With both attackers down, Berg re-focused on the man he held captive. He spun him around because he wanted to ask him a few questions about what the hell was going on. He was calmer now. He could be rational.

But when the man again faced him, Berg felt a little twinge in his side. He slowly looked down . . . and found a combat blade sticking out.

First he’d been shot. Now stabbed.

His grizzly rage soared once again, and as the intruder—quickly recognizing his error—attempted to fight his way out of Berg’s grasp, desperately begging for his life, Berg grabbed either side of his attacker’s face and squeezed with both hands . . . until the man’s head popped like a zit.

It was the blood and bone hitting him in the face that snapped Berg back into the moment, and he gazed down at his brain-covered hands.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered. “Shit, shit, shit.”

The other intruders, ignoring the pain from the shots, scrambled up and out of the suite. As far away from Berg as they could get.

Someone touched his arm and he half-turned to see the woman. She raised her hands and rewarded him with a soft smile.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Originally from Long Island, New York Times bestselling author G.A. Aiken has resigned herself to West Coast living, which involves healthy food, mostly sunny days, and lots of guys not wearing shirts when they really should be. Writing as Shelly Laurenston, she is also the creator of the wickedly funny Pride series. For more info about G.A. Aiken’s dangerously and arrogantly sexy dragons, go to www.gaaiken.com.