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that good-looking, she thought, eyeing him critically. His hair was dark, a little long, and shaggy. His face was a little too rugged, his mouth bracketed by lines that could have come from a grim life, or long-hidden dimples—though he didn’t give the impression he was a man who smiled much. He had plenty of scars. One dark brow was bisected by a thin line, while another, a good two inches long, slashed his left temple near the corner of his eye. He had a puckered scar high on his right shoulder, and another on his left hip. She’d kissed all of them last night.
    Acadia couldn’t see the color of his eyes in the meager light, but she remembered staring into them across a candlelit table in the cantina the night before: dark and heavy-lashed. Sexy. Hypnotic. Zakary Stark was unlike the men she usually dated. Different enough that he was exactly what she’d needed last night to kick off her grand adventure.
    Clearly a lover, not a fighter. Unfortunately, she needed a different kind of man right now. Preferably one who was well armed and willing to kick some butt.
    â€œI get that we’re waiting.” Zak’s voice cut the unnerving quiet in the people-filled room as he spoke with mind-blowing, annoying calm to the leader. Waiting wasnews to Acadia. Had she missed something? “While we’re just hanging around, why don’t I go ahead and get dressed? Save you all some time?”
    â€œWaiting for what, exactly?” Acadia couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
    Zak ignored her.
    His broad chest was lightly covered with crisp dark hair arrowing down his belly to … Oh, Lord. He wasn’t aroused, but his penis lay against his well-muscled thigh, and it was— Wow . Acadia swallowed. It took some concentrated efforts to disengage her attention and draw her gaze back up his body.
    Just looking at the ripple of muscle and satin-bronzed skin on the way up made her brain conjure the feel of his mouth between her legs, and the rasp of his callused hands as he—
    She blushed from her head to her toes. Every man in the room was suddenly staring at her as if he too were imagining what had happened right on that very bed hours before.
    A whole new wave of fear-fueled adrenaline zoomed through her system with nowhere to go and layered with the sudden surge of lust, making her so woozy that she swayed. She was standing there with two thugs gripping her upper arms, their dirty fingers leaving streaks on her bare skin, and she couldn’t stop staring at Zak’s package? What the hell was wrong with her?
    On the other hand, it was a diversion from relentless terror.
    Zak turned his head slightly, as if he could feel herfocus fixed on him like a tractor beam. Intense dark eyes clashed with hers across the twelve feet separating them in a brief and all-encompassing look. Acadia’s gaze skittered away like spit on a griddle.
    She had absolutely no idea how to interpret the look he’d just given her. Run? Stay where you are? Dive for the floor? Drop dead? In books and movies, the helpless heroine always knew exactly what her hero’s silent stares meant. Hell, those heroines could read a whole chapter into a single glance. In real life—not so much.
    Long strands of her hair stuck to the sweat on her face and throat as she gave the man on her left a cool look. ”I’m getting dressed now.” She made a move toward the scattered clothes she’d put out the night before, which were now on the floor. The man on her left blocked her with the barrel of his gun, warning her to stay put. To hell with that.
    The room was like an oven. They were all sweating, and God—they smelled so rank her eyes stung. She made another useless move to break free, but the men beside her restrained her. Acadia screamed her fury and tried to kick them as she fought to break their hold.
    The guy in charge turned to see what the commotion was and shouted,