Wild Eyes (Rose Hill, #2)

by Elsie Silver

“Weston Belmont. Rose Hill’s very own Super-Crocodile-Dundee-Man at your service,” I reply with a dramatic salute.

Respectable men don’t get tattoos a shirt can’t hide. But what about heroic ones? Ones with dusty blond hair and muscles that make their shirt look just a little too tight through the shoulders.

“No, fancy face. Those”—he points at my face, finger flicking from side to side—“are wild eyes. The eyes of a woman who just chose fight over flight. Don’t smother that. Keep ‘em and you’ll come out on top. Trust me.”

“Breathing is overrated. I’d rather be drowning in you.”

There’s a man who will do everything for you. And then there’s a man who is secure enough to realize there are things you need to do for yourself—who steps back and revels in watching you soar. That’s the man who’s your biggest fan.