Page 46 of Sublime Target

And he’d gotten the sense that despite her initial reaction—infernal ear-splitting scream and all—the way she’d clung to him like that had been somewhat intentional. How could he forget the way she’d nestled her sweet little face against his chest as the wind ruffled her hair, dousing him in her complex, intoxicating scent?

He would get her to hold him like that again just because he could.

And he would ensure Ikriss’s mate and her staff prepared her only the very finest of human foods. Something that was sure to impress and delight her.

Humans went mad over food.

Perhaps it was the very thing that would help her relax and lower her guard.

Even though she’d accepted his invitation, she was still wary of him, and rightfully so.

She was curious, though, and that was good.

So was he.

In the short amount of time they had together, he, Jerik Garul, former High Commander and all-round tough bastard, would have to convince her that he wasn’t as bad as the rumors made him out to be.

To her, never.

EIGHTEEN

When Jerik returned, he was different, somehow—calmer or something. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. A half-smile played across his lips, but his stare was as intense as ever.

Maybe that was just him.

Always intense; a forceful personality.

She got the feeling he was used to getting his way.

“We’ve arrived,” he announced as he walked across to her seat, placing his hand on the headrest. She got an eyeful of his broad, powerful arm. The armor molded against him perfectly, contouring over bulging muscle.

Deep in the innermost part of her thoughts, she wondered what he would look like without the outer layer, that impenetrable second skin. She could almost visualize his arm: taut, silver, veins prominent against his honed muscles.

She’d gotten a sense of how strong he truly was when he’d held onto her as they were being pulled into the cruiser by that deceptively thin cable.

It had felt like she was being restrained by warm, living steel, only he was gentle about it, never forcing her or hurting her.

To be like that… it must take a lot of self-control.

“Where are we, exactly?” She looked up. He towered over her, silver and obsidian and perfectly restrained.

She couldn’t even fathom what he was thinking.

What he was doing right now.

Surely, his intent was more than just platonic.

How had this happened so fast? Why was she going along with it so easily?

It was so unlike her—but maybe it was for that very reason that she’d taken a chance and gone away with him.

For the past several years, her life had been a predictable routine. Go to work, anticipate Garner’s needs, control her emotions, put out small fires, stay behind until everything was perfect, go home, eat takeaway, go to sleep.

Rinse and repeat.

She had friends she met up with regularly. She had her four weeks of annual leave. She booked holidays in predictable places—fancy beach resorts or mountain retreats, well-reviewed and safe.

She always went on holiday alone. Her brother and sister were busy with work and kids, her friends couldn’t get leave approved at the same time as her, and her parents didn’t want to travel anymore—they were getting old, and they preferred familiar places and things.

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