“I like it,” Director Sheffield nods. “Let’s go with your idea. Agent Matthews, get her an alias and whatever else she needs. You start tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Sir,” I smile, although it’s more to myself. This is my time to shine. Not only did I just get promoted to field agent, I’m about to make the arrest of the decade.

***

Muttering a string of curses under my breath, I’m finally able to pull my left hand free. I breathe a sigh of relief, quickly undoing the other bind.

When I took the mission, I wasn’t counting on my plan being thwarted by a dragon shifter. Now, I have to escape his base – this remote island – and get back to the real world.

The mere thought of him frustrates me, prompting an irritated huff as I finally get free, wringing my hands together to ease the pressure left behind by the tightness of the binds.

“Right… I need to get out of here…” I say to myself, commanding my feet to the floor and groaning. The icky feeling of being in the same dress as it clings to me like second skin sends a shiver down my spine.

One thing is for sure – the dragon man is a heartless prick.

I'm about to head toward the door when the man suddenly appears in front of me. Out of nowhere, he startles me, a tiny squeal falling from my lips.

My eyes flit to the door that remains locked. Somehow, he just walked through it without having to open it. There's so much more to the dragon shifter, it seems. Some kind of magic. A mystery I shouldn't be intent on uncovering.

I have Luca Mancini's case to work on. That's enough on my plate.

Why, God, why?

I gulp when my eyes flit back to the man, his turning dark as he stares at me through narrowed slits of contempt.

“I knew it!” he accuses, stepping forward and grabbing my shoulders. My upper arms are so small in his large hands, they almost disappear.

I don't understand why I care about how warm and familiar his touch is. Or why that warmth spreads through me, igniting every fiber in my being as if awakened for the first time. It takes every ounce of inner strength to remember that I'm a prisoner here.

He has no right to glare at me disdainfully for wanting to escape. I have no reason to be here except for his crazy explanation that his “inner dragon” won't allow me to leave.

Pffft! How ridiculous!

“I knew you'd be out of that bed the minute I walked in,” he snarls. “Good thing I didn't open the door.”

“I know perfectly well how to escape any situation,” I retorted. “Especially one as dangerous as this.”

“You think?” he scoffs, then does the unthinkable. As if my curvaceous figure weighs nothing more than a feather, he picks me up by the waist, tosses me over one shoulder, and marches ahead.

“What are you doing?” I exclaim.

“Shut up…” he drawls coolly. “When will you learn that your life isn't in danger here?”

“The moment you let me go!” I bite back.

As if in response to my demand, he plops me onto my feet inside the bathroom he'd just carried me into. Staring sternly into my eyes, I notice the way the emerald jets flash with golden circles, the golden specks between his eyes lighting up. He's staring at me, but it's almost as if he's staring past my soul into a void only he can see.

Only when the hints of amber turn green again does he seem to return to the moment.

What was that?

“Olivia Jackson, huh?” He folds his arms across his chest and raises an expectant brow.

I glare at him through narrowed eyes. “How do you know my name?”

“It doesn't matter,” he clicks his tongue, nodding at the shower. “Get in. You haven’t freshened up since you got here.”

“No thanks to you,” I bite back sardonically. As frustrated and furious as I am, I can’t help but feel like the shower is calling my name. It’s been two days, and I need to freshen up.