Desperate Measures

Melody gave a small gasp, like if she had just run away from something awful. As if he was holding her against his rough palm at the moment. Like it happened every time he was around, she felt a surge of what she wished was pure rage coil inside her and then pulse low.

She clenched her teeth and tightened her hold on the one remaining shoe, its heel poised and ready. "Next time," she vowed, "I won't miss my target."

Once again, she had managed to catch him off guard. And he came to enjoy it as much as he had in London.

Her brown eyes were sharp and intent, and he had no interest in trying to decode the emotions whirling within them. Her bare feet and tangled hair, in addition to the little flush on her cheeks, unnerved him. It showed a different, more alluring part of her personality.

Morgan stood up gently, his gaze locked on hers without wavering.