Three Days Before Christmas
The morning sun filtered through the dense canopy, dappling the forest floor in soft, golden light. It was a stark contrast to the stormy violence of their arrival, and to the tempest of passion that had consumed Amara the night before.
She woke slowly, a delicious lethargy weighing down her limbs. She was tangled in the pilot’s arms, her head resting on his chest, the rhythmic thump of his heart the only sound in the quiet clearing. The memory of his lips on hers, his rough voice claiming her as “Mine,” washed over her, sending a fresh wave of heat through her body.
For a moment, Amara Walters—Senior Associate, cynical urbanite, and ruthless litigator—simply didn’t exist. There was only Amara the woman, safe in the arms of the man who had kept her alive.
He
