He was the best I was going to get.
With that statement rolling around in his skull, irritation pounding his temples, Nakos stared at Amy, waiting for her to break. He knew her better than anyone. Too much tense silence, and she'd crack. It was just a matter of time.
Shadows from the trees created havoc with the moonlight on her alabaster skin. Her dark cocoa hair swept past her shoulders, and he had the damnedest itch to shove his hands in the strands and force her to look at him. Since dancing with her inside, she'd yet to glance at him more than fleetingly and that, more than what she'd said, had concern sinking its claws deep.
Arms crossed, he shook his head. This wasn't her. The defeat in her shoulders, the sad curve of her lips, the lack of spark in her mermaid eyes...Not his Ames. Where was her fire? Where was the woman who could argue him into a corner and make him heel? She exuded confidence like most people did pheromones.