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I latched on to his strong, calming tone and did as he asked, managing to complete step one: straddle a stranger.
Fear, always the worst backseat driver,
“Why do I feel like you’re Bruce Willis giving us a list of his motley crew, and I have to go round them up like we’re in some Armageddon movie?”
“Carter. Fucking. Dominick.”
Carter backed up, his hand resting atop the gun strapped to his side. Then those tight, strong abdominal muscles flexed before my eyes. Thank God my vision isn’t that bad . . . because damn.
“Did he hurt you? Touch you?” Her silence was a disaster to my state of mind. Does he need to die? Say the word, and I’ll make it rain with his blood.
“Did you just make a joke?” “Maybe.” Probably not.
how turned on I was even with the fate of the fucking world hanging in the balance. That alone should’ve let her know I wasn’t the good man she thought I was. Because I’d let the world burn for just one more minute with her.
I’d changed before we’d landed, but Diana, and her love of being cleaner than a bar of soap itself, had showered again.
“So, something happened on the jet? I swear that bedroom needs a cigarette after all it’s witnessed in the last two years.” Griffin managed a smile that time, and I was tired enough to smile back.
Our lips fused. Tongues met. Souls interlocked. Forget a prince waking a princess with a kiss, this man made me feel like an immortal with one.
He set his forehead to mine, his breath fanning across my face. “Where the fuck have you been all of my life?” “It wasn’t our time then. And I suppose it won’t be until we finish the mission.”
Fail: first attempt in learning.
my mother was wrong about the word fuck. It wasn’t unbecoming. When Carter said it, it could, in fact, make me come.
Kilian? I hadn’t heard of that brand. I read the label out loud: “I don’t need a prince by my side to be a princess.” “From the sounds of it, you found your king.” Touché. Carter was certainly that.
It was hard to think straight with those dark eyes fixed on me and all that intense brood pointed my way.
“Never thought my job would have me feeling like a kid stuck going back and forth between their parents.” A smile cut across his lips. “No offense.” “A little taken.”
Fiancée. Fuck. What a gorgeous fucking word, second only to wife.
