THUD.
Who is this woman?
Confused, Zain stared at the stranger in front of him—right before he was slammed against the wall, her palm clamped firmly over his mouth. His back hit hard enough to knock the air out of him.
Still trying to process what was happening, curiosity won over panic. He let the drama play out for a moment, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. His eyes flicked toward the large bedside window—the same one she'd clearly jumped through to get into his hotel room.
Before he could move an inch, she shoved him back again. Harder this time.
Zain studied her up close—tense, alert, powerful. For someone barely 5'7", she was strong enough to pin a 6'2 man so thoroughly he could barely shift. When he looked down at her, he took in the details: a striking woman in a red side-slit dress, probably mid-twenties. Her slicked-back hair was tied into a long black ponytail that swayed as she struggled to keep him in place. Long lashes. A model's frame.
Damn. She's hot, he thought.
Five minutes of chaos passed, and Zain still had no idea what the hell was going on. At some point, he stopped resisting altogether—partly amused, partly enjoying the view.
"Sorry," she said at last, pulling her hand away, clearly realizing the danger chasing her was gone.
She moved toward the window, ready to disappear the same way she'd arrived.
That's when Zain grabbed her wrist and yanked her back.
"Hey," he said sharply. "You don't just barge into my room, pin me to a wall, cover my mouth, and walk away like nothing happened. I want an explanation."