Forged In Fire
I pulled the zipper down slowly, watching the fabric separate, revealing more smooth skin, more lean muscle, more evidence that Catarina Vitale was not the delicate princess I'd assumed her to be.
"There," I said, my voice rougher than I'd intended. "Done."
"Finally," she muttered, shrugging out of the bodice and letting it fall to the floor.
She was wearing something underneath—a thin silk slip that covered her from chest to mid-thigh—but it did nothing to hide the weapons still strapped to her body. Or the fact that she was clearly in excellent physical shape. The kind of shape that came from serious training, not casual gym sessions.
She turned to face me, still holding the knife, her exp
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