4
“You’re what’s wrong with me, you crazy b***h!” Connell growled, hyper aware of how damn cute his mortal enemy was.
She was in a word—adorable. Finally up close to her, he could see all the details he had missed before. She was definitely Asian, but mixed, a little over five feet tall.
Despite her diminutive size, she was perfectly proportioned. She had creamy skin that looked smoother than silk. Her eyes were the color of honey. As he’d thought in the club, her hair was black, but it had a streak of blue. It was longer too. The gossamer strands were an asymmetrical curtain that fell below her shoulders.
He’d never been attracted to petite women before, preferring ones he could stand next to without feeling monstrous.
Ironic, that.
However, this woman could probably drive a fist cl
