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“Ready?” the marshal asked.
She nodded.
He pulled away.
She didn’t look back.
The world shifted.
Ronan stood before the mural, watching her. “This could be your life, Lissy-love. You don’t have to keep running.”
“I’m not running,” she snapped.
His gaze cut deep. “Yeah. You are.”
Felicity woke with tears on her face.
24
Frustrating days
They faced off on the mats, the driving bass pulsing through overhead speakers, something fast and relentless that set the tempo whether you wanted it to or not. Felicity flexed her hands, the thin padding across the knuckles still stiff, and made the mistake of looking at Ronan properly. Gym shorts. Sleeves cut clean off his T-shirt. Bare arms. Solid. Defined in a way that made her irritation spike for entirely the wrong reasons.
Her fault. Entirely her fault.
It had been a frustrating day at work. Mercer needling her — since dropping those images on his desk, he’d been snide and reactive. She couldn’t wait for his two weeks suspension to be done. Just four more days to go. Then there was an update on the Liminov trial in four months — a reminder it was all temporary.
When the text arrived — Up for a gym session? — like a fool, she’d said yes.
“I need to punch someone,” she’d said when she climbed into his truck.
He’d just glanced over. One corner of his mouth tipping. “Lucky me.”
And here they were.
She moved first. Quick jab snapping toward his face, stopping just short
He caught it. Easily. By barely moving. “Hit me,” he drawled, releasing her.
“I am hitting you,” she growled, infuriated.
“You’re tapping.”
“I am not—”
“Felicity.” His gaze dropped briefly to her hands, then back to her face. “Commit.”
Something in her chest tightened.
Fine.
She drove forward, jab snapping out, cross following hard. He blocked, but she didn’t give him space. She stepped closer, swung a hook with real weight behind it.
He deflected.
She danced back, her breath hitching. She drove a front kick into his midsection. His hand closed around her shin, stopping it cold. Balance tipped, her weight thrown off, her hands instinctively caught his shoulders to steady herself.
Heat radiated off him. Her breath hitched. Her pulse kicked hard.
