His face was pale and free from stubble–not a worker’s face but rather a corporate executive’s. An aristocratic nose was set above firm lips, wh...ch right now were drawn tight with anger. Lines furred across his brow as he cold eyes continued to stare at her. She watched the rage begin to build in those eyes which brought home the point only to clearly: this was a dangerous man, one you did not want to be on the wrong side of. His rage could be lethal. Rage which was at the moment centered on. Ariel needed more. She needed all of this extraordinary man. Consequences be damned. She tugged at his shirt, trying to pull it off. At her soft cry of frustration, Damien broke contact with her chest and, grinning, yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. “I want you, Ariel. Take off the rest of your cloths.” She slid from the table with his assistance and eagerly removed the rest of her clothing as he did the same. Towering over her, he ran his hands up an down her sides. When they. More

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