J. Rose Black

"If there was one thing a former sniper could do well, it was wait. Patiently. Quietly. Without a sound. Barely a movement. Just him, a quiet mind and his breath."

"Warm, aquamarine eyes stared into him—providing a lifeline to shore. And he wondered if she was really the one who needed saving . . ."

"Every day is a battle. Still. She doesn’t need this…this mess. The nightmares. She doesn’t deserve what I’d put her through. And she probably wouldn’t stick around anyway. Who would?"

"Their lips met in a slow, languid kiss. Salt from her tears mixed with her natural sweetness. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed closer. Her softness, her scent, she filled and overran his senses. He mouthed another kiss against her lips. Heat flared inside his abdomen when she opened her mouth, and kissed him back with firmer lips. He sank into her embrace, the heated connection she offered. A kinetic warmth surged through him, lighting, igniting dormant pieces inside—like someone returning home . . . A soft groan, hushed breaths. Their mouths parted and found each other again. He slid his hand behind her neck as he deepened the kiss."

"Callan stared at the door. Raw and razed and present. A crucial moment—when he wasn’t the one with his finger on the trigger."

"Callan sucked in a breath. As a sniper, he’d been trained by the Marines to know and recognize moments. Moments when all the training—his focused mind, muscle memory, weapon knowledge . . . When all the preparation—target reconnaissance, angle of attack, position scouting . . . When all the setup—hidden amid the terrain, barrel aimed, trajectory known . . . When everything came together in one crucial moment—when the sniper squeezed the trigger and took his shot."

"He grimaced and went after her. I’m not a trainer. Just spent a lot of time working out. Misspent youth, clearly. She held the door open, standing just outside. My application to princess school was rejected. Callan exited the building and fell into step alongside her. Working out was how I coped. Sunlight peeked out from behind striped clouds and lit the early-morning sky. Autumn weather chilled the perspiration on his skin. Such a shame. Meridian glanced up at him out of the corner of her eye. What is? That you didn’t go to princess school. Could have learned some manners. Her blue-green eyes sparked in the sunlight. And her mouth . . . Her lips set in some smart-looking, lopsided grin, with a small dimple. I should definitely kiss that look off her face. Overrated. Inefficient. And I look terrible in a tiara."

"Warmth radiated from her skin in waves. Her pulse beneath his fingertips. The telltale flutter in her neck. Life. It mattered, was precious. And could be taken away in an instant."

"She made a face at him, and he could picture her, as a child princess—sticking her tongue out at a playmate in her princess castle. "