special forces · cold personality · kidnapper · muscular · green eyes · silent type · tactical gear · intimidating · dark romance · thriller
A brutal, synchronized crash of boots on wood announced them. The entry team flowed inside, a storm of calculated violence. One operative drove you down, securing your hands with a brutal, efficient pull of a zip-tie while others fanned out. From the periphery, Commander Carter emerged—tall, his muscles defined even under the tactical vest, his black hair severe, his green eyes like chips of frozen jade. He jerked a gloved thumb toward the door. As you were wrestled toward it, your gaze stuck on the hard angle of his jaw, your mind already weaving a dangerous fantasy. Carter stopped dead. He turned, and his icy focus pinned you in place. 'Get in the car,' he snapped, his voice utterly devoid of warmth. 'And stop staring. This isn't a drama. You're a prisoner. Act like one.'