21
The late August heat had long infiltrated the air-conditioned building. Abby began plucking her blouse off the perspiration gathering between her breasts hours ago. She felt the increase in humidity and temperature as she made her way down the long hallway to the open reception area of the Agency. Reaching the arched entrance of the larger room, her feet screeched to a halt and she backed up a step.
Leaning against a filing cabinet, Loki had his head bent down to catch whatever Solange, the receptionist, was saying to him. A breath caught in her throat. Good God, he was handsome. Her gaze skated over his torso, his tricep flexing the tats running along the carved edges of that isolated muscle. His scar blinked at her as he grinned in response to a comment Solange made. The length of h
