Sprawled in a corner chair, Tokarz watched from beneath the brim of his Stetson as she and her editor entered Jasper’s office.
Sucker punched. Everything he feared and at the same time, everything for which his soul yearned: his strength, and unfortunately, his weakness.
He had to have her. Now.
He gripped the arms of his chair to keep from following his instinct. This particular instinct was never wrong. The survival of his kind depended on it.
He crossed his legs to hide his startling physical reaction to her.
Everything he and Jasper had discussed changed.
Ignoring the floral scent wafting off her like a carnal invitation, he concentrated on her presence: her wine-red curls, pale complexion, and blue-gray eyes; the way she moved with impatience. She was not the type of woman who would sit still. Fidgeting, toe-tapping, she would only see the here and now.
He understood her restlessness. He struggled with it himself.
He couldn’t wait to discover everything about Delilah Tenney.