Georgina," He Murmured, Pulling Me Closer. "you

Adrian Smiled And Clasped My Hands, Taking A Few Steps Toward Me. "and As For Who You Are, You’re The Same Beautiful, Brave, And Ridiculously Smart Caffeinated Fighter You’ve Been Since The Day I Met You.” Finally, He Put “beautiful” At The Top Of His List Of Adjectives. Not That I Should Have Cared. “sweet Talker,” I Scoffed. “you Didn’t Know Anything About Me The First Time We Met.” “i Knew You Were Beautiful,” He Said. “i Just Hoped For The Rest.

Where Are The Dogs?" I Asked. "at Training," He Said. "i Have A Friend Who's An Expert Dog Trainer, And He's Giving Them Some Stealth Lessons. He Used To Work For A Local K-9 Unit." I Didn't Think It Was In The Chihuahua Genetic Code To Ever Be Stealthy.

None Of The Bravado He Usually Showed Was There. I Guess There Was "usually" And Then There Was Being Held In The Grip Of A Really Ripped, Really Tall, And Really Pissed Off Russian Guy.

Having Your Own, Um, Cave At Eighteen Is Pretty Cool.

You Guys Didn't Really Think You Could Go Off On A Party Weekend Without Me, Did You? Especially Here Of All Places—" He Froze And It Was One Of Those Rare Moments When Adrian Ivashkov Was Caught Totally And Completely Off Guard. "did You Know," He Said Slowly, "that Victor Dashkov Is Sitting On Your Bed?" "yeah," I Said. "it Was Kind Of A Shock To Us Too.