Daniel chuckled under his breath as he closed the distance between them. His hand came to rest at her waist—warm, familiar—anchoring them both firmly in the moment.
"Careful," he murmured. "You're the one who started this."
Anna tilted her head, her eyes shining with mischief. "I know," she said lightly. "That's why it's more fun."
Her gaze flicked upward, thoughtful for half a second before she looked back at him. "Are you going to help me with my pants," she asked casually, as if the question didn't carry intent.
Daniel didn't bother answering. His hands were already there.
A soft chuckle slipped from Anna's lips—until it faltered. Because when she looked down, Daniel had gone still, focused. There was something devastatingly dangerous in the way he looked at her now—calm, deliberate, entirely in control.
