Ethan met Captain Hayes' intense gaze across the expensive desk. He swirled the amber whiskey in his glass, the contrast between the luxury and the man chained before her creating a palpable tension.
"If you don't believe what's written in those files," Ethan said, his voice dropping to a smooth, intimate register, "why don't you just let me walk out? I'm a decent citizen, you know."
Captain Hayes let out a small, dry laugh—a sound that barely reached her eyes. She leaned back, crossing one powerful, tailored leg over the other, the movement exposing a sliver of taut skin above her boot.
