Taming the Dragon. Kendra Leigh Castle
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a pair of eyes the bright gold of a candle’s flame locked with hers, and she knew she was in plenty of trouble anyway.
He looked like some dark and malevolent god banished to earth standing there in the doorway. Tousled raven hair, pieces of it gleaming what looked like deep purple, skimmed sharp cheekbones. His face was angular, with a square jaw and a regal blade of a nose, softened only by his mouth. Even set in a disapproving line, his lips looked soft, sensual.
It was exactly the wrong thought, Tess knew, struggling to center herself before she did something ridiculous. But if his face wasn’t enough, the man looked as though he’d only just thrown on the pair of black jeans he was wearing. Her eyes skimmed down his bare chest before she could stop herself, making detailed mental notes on every taut muscle, every slash and curl of the intriguing tribal tattoos that marked his golden skin, disappearing beneath pants he hadn’t bothered to button...
“Who wakes me?” he growled, in a roughened voice as dark and decadent as sin itself.
Tess opened her mouth, though she hadn’t yet decided whether to answer or scream for help.
It didn’t matter.
With a flicker of movement, Kaden St. George dragged her inside and shut the door behind them.
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