stayed on hers, her courage impressing him like hell. Unable to resist, he reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the silky feel accelerating his pulse.
And suddenly, for the first time, he really saw her. He saw more than her dazzling green eyes, more than her heart-stopping face and tempting curves. He saw a woman with courage and strength, who was willing to put her life on the line to protect others from a violent fate.
This was the woman who’d defied Amir. The woman who’d been willing to barter her own freedom to get Henry the care he required. The woman who spent her life healing battered women, using her medical skills to ease their pain. And this was the woman who’d fled her home as a teenager, willing to brave the dangers of street life to pursue her precious dreams.
His throat thick, he traced her jaw, the purple bruise standing out in stark relief, proof of the violence she’d endured. He couldn’t deny her physical appeal. She had an uncommon beauty, a combination of sultriness and passion that had attracted him from the start.
But her spirit impressed him even more. She didn’t have to lead this kind of existence. It would have been much easier for her to give in to her father’s wishes, marry a member of the Jaziirastani royal family and submit to the traditional role they’d prescribed. Or she could have cashed in on her exotic beauty, garnering fame and money as a model or a movie star. Even now, she could earn a fortune as a plastic surgeon catering to wealthy celebrities desperate to recapture their fading youth. Instead, she dedicated her life to helping the people the rest of society overlooked.
Her altruism affecting him deeply, he threaded his hand through her glossy hair. He skimmed the graceful line of her throat, the tilt of her gray-green eyes. Her full lips were parting in a sensual invitation he was hard-pressed to withstand.
And damned if he didn’t want to kiss her again.
His mind clamored an instant warning, that he was making a mistake. This case was complicated enough. He couldn’t get involved with a woman under his protection, not with so many lives at risk. Giving in to the impulse before had been bad enough, threatening to blow his objectivity sky-high. But now...
Now her spirit drew him like a beacon, torching a need in his jaded soul. Reminding him of a distant time when he’d been a different man, a man with honor and pride and ideals.
Unable to stop himself, he shifted closer, his palm bracketing her jaw. Her pulse raced under his thumb. Her breath hitched, the soft sound luring him in. Their gazes tangled, then locked, heat pulsing between them, that attraction he’d felt from the second he’d met her building steadily out of control.
And then her eyes fluttered closed, her lashes like soot against her pale cheekbones, her lips an invitation a better man would resist.
He was no longer that man.
He lowered his mouth to hers. Her sigh made his heart drum, her amazing warmth inflaming his blood. He took her lips in a blaze of possession, the velvety feel of her jolting every buried part of him back to life.
The scent of her inundated his senses, her soft curves driving him insane. He sank into the kiss, giving vent to the urges mounting inside him, to the clamors he couldn’t contain.
And she kissed him back. Her gentle hands clung to his shoulders. Her moist tongue dueled with his. Growling, he widened his stance and pulled her against him, needing the intimate contact, planting his hands on her rounded hips. Her answering moan shuddered through him like a shockwave, and reality began fading away.
He wanted her. Badly. He trembled with the need to touch her, to lose himself in her sultry warmth. To pretend the past hadn’t happened. To forget the danger lurking nearby, to be worthy and whole again.
But it had happened. He couldn’t erase his mistakes—or forget the man he’d become.
And this wasn’t the time or place. The terrorists
And suddenly, for the first time, he really saw her. He saw more than her dazzling green eyes, more than her heart-stopping face and tempting curves. He saw a woman with courage and strength, who was willing to put her life on the line to protect others from a violent fate.
This was the woman who’d defied Amir. The woman who’d been willing to barter her own freedom to get Henry the care he required. The woman who spent her life healing battered women, using her medical skills to ease their pain. And this was the woman who’d fled her home as a teenager, willing to brave the dangers of street life to pursue her precious dreams.
His throat thick, he traced her jaw, the purple bruise standing out in stark relief, proof of the violence she’d endured. He couldn’t deny her physical appeal. She had an uncommon beauty, a combination of sultriness and passion that had attracted him from the start.
But her spirit impressed him even more. She didn’t have to lead this kind of existence. It would have been much easier for her to give in to her father’s wishes, marry a member of the Jaziirastani royal family and submit to the traditional role they’d prescribed. Or she could have cashed in on her exotic beauty, garnering fame and money as a model or a movie star. Even now, she could earn a fortune as a plastic surgeon catering to wealthy celebrities desperate to recapture their fading youth. Instead, she dedicated her life to helping the people the rest of society overlooked.
Her altruism affecting him deeply, he threaded his hand through her glossy hair. He skimmed the graceful line of her throat, the tilt of her gray-green eyes. Her full lips were parting in a sensual invitation he was hard-pressed to withstand.
And damned if he didn’t want to kiss her again.
His mind clamored an instant warning, that he was making a mistake. This case was complicated enough. He couldn’t get involved with a woman under his protection, not with so many lives at risk. Giving in to the impulse before had been bad enough, threatening to blow his objectivity sky-high. But now...
Now her spirit drew him like a beacon, torching a need in his jaded soul. Reminding him of a distant time when he’d been a different man, a man with honor and pride and ideals.
Unable to stop himself, he shifted closer, his palm bracketing her jaw. Her pulse raced under his thumb. Her breath hitched, the soft sound luring him in. Their gazes tangled, then locked, heat pulsing between them, that attraction he’d felt from the second he’d met her building steadily out of control.
And then her eyes fluttered closed, her lashes like soot against her pale cheekbones, her lips an invitation a better man would resist.
He was no longer that man.
He lowered his mouth to hers. Her sigh made his heart drum, her amazing warmth inflaming his blood. He took her lips in a blaze of possession, the velvety feel of her jolting every buried part of him back to life.
The scent of her inundated his senses, her soft curves driving him insane. He sank into the kiss, giving vent to the urges mounting inside him, to the clamors he couldn’t contain.
And she kissed him back. Her gentle hands clung to his shoulders. Her moist tongue dueled with his. Growling, he widened his stance and pulled her against him, needing the intimate contact, planting his hands on her rounded hips. Her answering moan shuddered through him like a shockwave, and reality began fading away.
He wanted her. Badly. He trembled with the need to touch her, to lose himself in her sultry warmth. To pretend the past hadn’t happened. To forget the danger lurking nearby, to be worthy and whole again.
But it had happened. He couldn’t erase his mistakes—or forget the man he’d become.
And this wasn’t the time or place. The terrorists
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