Francine fought down the urge to roll her eyes. Did she remember him? Ummmm… yeah. Hell, yeah. What hot-blooded woman would ever forget Mark Hayden? The man was a trained doctor, he was a former battle surgeon, he was a bodyguard. Throw in his mint-green eyes sparkling with humor and intelligence against his café-au-lait skin, and his hulking, mountain-of-muscle frame, and he was also panty-meltingly hot. Like, scorching, burning, five-alarm, call-every-truck-in-town hot.“Sure,” she said now, her voice a bit chilly. No sense encouraging him, she figured. In both her personal and professional experience, guys who looked like this were all-too-aware of it, and seemed to expect women to fling themselves at them as their due. “How are you, Mark?”God, the way she said his name, with that sexy rolling ‘r’, that hard, breathy ‘k’. Francine was from Canada, from Québec, and her French accent was faint, but still present. He’d never forgotten that smoky, almost dirty voice – so at odds with
Last Updated : 2026-01-05 Read more