Dark Wolf Running. Rhyannon Byrd

specimen of both beauty and primitive, visceral masculinity. Big and broad but as lean as a racehorse, his ropy muscles packed hard and tight beneath that deliciously bronzed skin. He’d been shirtless in front of her last night, but she’d been too upset to really take in the stunning details. But wow. Just wow.

      Elise didn’t know how long she’d just been sitting there, staring like some sex-crazed female who’d never set eyes on a man before, but she jolted with shock when he suddenly slapped his palms against his knees and stood. “Now that you’re up,” he said, his voice sounding kind of tight and strange, “you should probably go ahead and get dressed. We don’t have much time before we need to leave.”