Upon seeing me, she opens the door fully, and the sight of her hits me like a punch to the gut. She isn’t wearing an oversized sweater or carefully arranged layers. Instead, she stands before me in a fitted gray tank top and tiny sleep shorts that leave her thick bare legs exposed against the warm glow spilling from her room. Her dark hair falls half loose from its bun, unstyled and soft around her face like she’d been trying to sleep but was failing.
Christ… She’s beautiful.
With soft curves and plush skin, she has the kind of body that would’ve been carved into marble centuries ago. The kind of beauty that sculptors practically built religions around.
My body inconveniently reacts to the sight of her as her eyes narrow slightly. “Why are you staring at me like you’ve seen a ghost?”
I drag my gaze to her face through sheer force of will.
“Just checking to make sure you’re good for the night.”
Mackenzi blinks once before the corner of her mouth curves lazily upward. “Ensuring I’ve eaten no longer enough for you?” she asks playfully with a tinge of sass to her tone. “What’s next? You gonna start tucking me in, too?”
And,fuck me, the way my brain immediately supplies the image. Her in this room, sleepy and warm beneath tangledblankets, while I lean over her. My hand brushing hair away from her face. Pulling covers over bare skin. Her looking up at me like?—
Nope.
Absolutely fucking not.
Heat curls, low and vicious, through my stomach as I clear my throat hard enough to almost choke on it.
“Oh my God!” she exclaims, the look on her face a mixture of embarrassment and intrigue. “You’ve actually thought about it.”
“I didn’t.”
“You’re blushing.”
“I’m leaving.”
She laughs softly, that damn dimple appearing in her cheek. I stare at her for one second too long before stepping back into the hallway. “You good?” I ask roughly, trying to gain my composure.
Her expression softens just slightly, and her voice drops to a breathy whisper. “Yeah… I’m good.”
I nod once before getting the hell out of there before I do something dangerously stupid like try to stay.
I make it halfway down the east wing before I exhale sharply through my nose and drag a hand over my face.
By the time I reach my room, restless energy buzzes beneath my skin. I strip out of my clothes and head straight for the bathroom sink, bracing both hands against the marble counter while cold water runs over my hands and wrists.
It doesn’t help.
Twenty years in private security and the military taught me how to compartmentalize almost everything—fear, violence, grief, and attraction. Mackenzi somehow slips through every single crack anyway.
I shove away from the sink, before that thought can settle too deeply, and change quickly into black running shorts, a dark T-shirt, and old running shoes that have seen more than a few miles since we arrived in Cartagena.
Downstairs, the mansion hums softly with electronics and distant thunder. The command center glows blue fromrows of surveillance monitors tracking every hallway, entrance, and perimeter angle around the property. Gunnar, Hawk, and Jagger are still at work, the three of them looking up when I step into the open doorway.
“One of you keep eyes on her,” I instruct, grabbing a flashlight from the equipment shelf near the door. “I’m going for a run.”
Gunnar glances toward the storm pounding outside the reinforced windows. “It’s fucking pouring out there.”
“East fence alarms glitched twice earlier,” I say. “Might as well kill two birds.”
“Bullshit,” Hawk snorts quietly without looking up from his paperwork, and I try desperately to ignore him.
Gunnar studies me for another second before sighing. “Fine. I’ll keep watch on the chaos gremlin.”
I leave before any of them can say anything else. The estate stretches, massive and dark, against the night sky, security lights illuminating sections of winding stone paths, iron fencing, and carefully maintained gardens, all now battered by the weather. The storm hits me hard the second I step outside, a cold deluge drenching me almost instantly and soaking through my shirt, while the wind tears across the open grounds.
