He was suppose to protect his heart, not lose his own...
Callen has always had a stoke of luck with everything. The ladies to his missions, he succeeded in them all.
But all Callens luck strikes out, Literally...
When a daring mission cost his life...
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Her fingers were just about to slide off the narrow sill when Mr. Dawson tugged her through the window and up against his wide chest. Her scream faded into a strangled gasp at being so quickly snatched from peril. She kept her eyes shut as she clasped her arms around him. He smelled like the sea, she noted distantly. She tried to stand. Her feet made contact with what felt like a hard wood floor, but her legs shook so badly he had to support her.
She hadn't fallen to a messy death.
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Thankful for being rescued, she squeezed him harder, then almost completely lost her train of thought. Her breath escaped in a rush as she hugged him tighter, rather enjoying the feel of him pressed against her.
"Thank you," she murmured. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." She kept squeezing, just to make sure his muscles felt as firm as they looked, then said in a quavering voice, "I was too frightened to drop back down to the branch, and then I couldn't pull myself up, and when I looked down I couldn't even see the ground, not that I could see anything what with it being pitch black outside, but I thought for sure I was dead. . ." She pulled back, her words trailing off as she got her first good look at him in the light.
Her breath escaped in an awe-filled rush as she studied the features candlelight illuminated to perfection.
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He was beautiful.
No, beautiful was not enough; he was, well, magnificent. With his Nordic-like cheekbones, Short cropped hair, tantalizing green eyes, made even more green by the copper colour of his skin, and his buff-coloured breeches tucked into black boots, all he'd need was a patch over one eye and he'd be the spitting image of a high-seas pirate, a swashbuckling hero come to rescue her.
