Down on the field, the exact second Daniel saw that Irene had lined up in lane four, his possessive, hyper-competitive instincts flared into a volcanic blaze. He didn't say a single word to his coaches. With pure, unyielding arrogance, he marched directly over to the purple team representative who was currently preparing to hop for lane three. Daniel ruthlessly yanked the burlap sack right out of the employee’s hands, giving the terrified man a single, freezing look that sent the clerk sprinting back to the bench.Daniel stepped into lane three, standing directly beside Irene.The proximity was instant and suffocating. Irene didn't look at him, but she could feel the intense, rigid heat radiating off his tall frame. Daniel stepped into his sack, pulling the rough material up to his waist with a fluid, arrogant flick of his wrists, his dark eyes cutting a sideways glance toward her bare waist and high ponytail.“You look ridiculous, assistant,” Daniel murmured, his voice dropping into
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