19
Darce felt his jaw drop, but couldn’t do anything about it. She was beautiful. The epitome of feminine grace and lethality all wrapped up into one lithe yet curvy package that had his heart racing and his c**k as stiff as an iron bar. Crouched in front of him, she was dressed for combat but looked nothing like any soldier he’d ever seen. Certainly none he’d ever served with heated his blood and tented his pants like this one did.
“Move out of the way.”
Her voice was a melodious snarl, its dulcet tones stroking along the back of his neck as though it had fingers of its own. He wanted nothing more than to obey her, to step aside and let her pass. If he did that, though, Lillian’s blood would be on his head. If that happened, Jack would rip his still-beating heart from his chest, and Da
