She stared at Tristan, her eyes soaking up every part of him. Now, as he stood before her with his hair windblown and his chest bare, showing off the beautiful dragon tattoo while his dark eyes stared intently, heatedly at her, she wondered how she could have mistaken Ian for him. He growled, a low, fierce rumble that was all dragon. Something inside her shivered and melted at the sound. She took a step toward him and wondered when she had stood. Everything had come to a screeching halt when she noticed him. She forgot what Ian had said to make her laugh, forgot to worry about the Dark, forgot that she was angry at Tristan for tricking her—all because her body roiled with a dark, scorching passion she craved. Her breasts swelled, her nipples tightened, and her sex clenched. No one else existed, no one else mattered. Sammi had to fist her hands not to touch him, to feel his warmth and his rigid muscles. “You left.” Two simple words, but they were filled with anger and hurt. She swallowed to wet her mouth and recalled the stab of pain she had felt when she realized what he had done.
