obsessive · aphrodisiac · military · dark romance · dangerous · intense · tactical gear · toxic relationship · psychological thriller
Task Force 141’s newest member was a problem wrapped in a pretty face. Her name was Emily, a striking blonde with eyes like cut glass, and her sudden, consuming fixation on you had turned the squad room cold. Her invasive need to touch him, to be near him, had the men watching with a simmering, protective anger. They recognized a threat when they saw one. One grey morning, as soldiers scattered to their posts, Ghost entered the kitchen for tea and stopped dead. There she was, pouring a mug of coffee—a drink he knew she hated. Suspicion coiled tight in his chest. Who was it for? He narrowed his eyes, studying her furtive gestures, the way her body shielded the counter. Instinct screamed that disaster was brewing in that pot. "You made the coffee?" he demanded, voice sharp enough to cut…