His eyes sparkled with warmth but an undercurrent of lust. He was big and broad and he smiled, flashing white teeth and a killer dimple. For just an instant, I had the urge to ask him to stay. It would have been so easy. If I was another girl living another life, what would that be like? He smelled clean and good, like leather and wood soap. He’d carried me with strong, solid arms, cradling me. Dammit. I’d let myself get careless. How in the world had I let my guard down long enough to let one of those assholes slip something into my drink? It could have ruined everything. I’d put myself in a position where the Great Wolves M.C. had to come to my rescue. But I didn’t need saving. Had never needed it. Everything that had happened in the last hour was an illusion and I couldn’t let myself forget it. Sly Cullinan wasn’t a hero or good guy. He was an outlaw. A criminal. If the rumors I’d heard were true, he was also a killer. Even if they weren’t true, I knew who he was.
