Undone by His Touch

Who was she to lecture him? To talk in platitudes about something she didn’t understand?

She was young, too young surely for the responsible job of running Carinya. Her skin still had the smooth, taut texture of youth. Unblemished and perfect.

Declan clenched his fists, recalling the pulse of need that had shot through him as he’d traced her features, learnt the high curve of cheekbones and delicate point of her chin. Her silk-soft hair, pulled back from her face. Her neat nose and soft, plump lips.

Damn! His fist pounded the toughened glass window with a dull thud that did nothing to ease the turbulent roil of emotions churning his gut.

Anger—yes.

Impatience—that was a given.

Frustration—that word had taken on a whole new meaning since Chloe Daniels had entered his home. Before that he’d been frustrated merely with his blindness, his incompetence in this world of darkness, his inability to find and punish the callous woman who’d driven Adrian to his death. That failure ate like a canker at his soul.

Now Declan’s frustration had the keen edge of sexual hunger. The ever-present hint of Chloe’s vanilla-sunshine scent in his home tantalised his nostrils and fed the gnawing hunger in his belly.

For too long his dreams had been haunted by Adrian’s fall. Now they’d changed, waking him nightly, sweating and with his heart pounding.

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