Evans pulled a knife from behind him, stepping closer—so close she could drown in the scent of his cologne. Then, wrapping his hands around her, his breath warm against her skin, he sliced through the zip tie on her wrists, freeing her.
Why was she feeling so heated? Why was her heart hammering so loudly? Why did her lips suddenly feel parched?
He stepped away, and her senses snapped back into place. She massaged her wrists, unaware that he was watching. But by freeing her, he had indirectly told her that escaping was nothing more than a dream, even without the restraints.
Evans returned to his desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a thick stack of papers. He set them down and slid them toward her.
Sylvia hesitated before stepping forward, her eyes narrowing as she read the bold title
