Maeve laughed softly. “You are so accustomed to getting your way.” Mal’s face scanned hers meticulously. Her stomach flipped as a quick breath rose up in her chest. When his eyes landed on hers he spoke. “No one fights me quite like you do.” The words slipped from his mouth like it made him hungry. She grinned. “Someone has to,” she said. A small laugh escaped his lips. “And you think you’re the one for the job?” “The alternatives are grim.” His brows raised.
