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Summary
That's why he was still here and not in a car to the plane out of Dubai. The opportunity for more was in front of him. More? Info? No. Armand can't be trusted to tell the truth. More of that golden brown skin, and the man who has been giving him half-hungry glances finally inviting him to touch it. A breath away from his body. The distance was closing.
Daniel stares at the wound on this pretty young throat. The blood drips onto the collar of the dusty shirt Armand still wore.
“Before it closes, Mr. Molloy,” Armand chides.
