Anastasia slowly turned, her breath catching in her throat as she took in the tall, powerfully built figure standing behind her on the balcony.
He was dressed in formfitting black fatigues that molded to every chiseled line and sinewy muscle of his body like a second skin.
She blinked slowly, the muted glow of moonlight playing across his ruggedly handsome features. "Are you...real? Or am I drunk already?"
A low, gravel-toned chuckle rumbled from deep within his chest as his lips curved into a lopsided smirk - part sarcastic amusement, part undisguised yearning. "Why don't you come closer and find out for yourself?"
As if in a trance, Anastasia abandoned her wine glass and drifted towards him.
Her fingers trembled ever so slightly as she reached out to ghost over the curved planes of his bicep, the taut musculature unyielding and scorchingly warm even through the thin fabric separating their skin.
