The Don stood still for a moment, his sharp eyes locked on his opponent, the silence between them thick with promise. Then, with deliberate calm, he peeled off his shirt, exposing his raw masculine energy.

From her uncomfortable position on the floor, Tatjana stared, transfixed. She wanted to sigh, to swoon over him, at this piece of carved manliness… rippling muscles, flat board abs…

The Assassin’s large hand was around her throat, but she was unaware of anything but the ...