It was impossible to ignore him. Even if you tried, even if you told yourself a million times that you were just imagining things, there was no getting around the fact that John Price was, well, gorgeous.

You met him at some random work function, the kind where you’re expected to mingle with people who’ve probably forgotten your name the moment you walk away. But Price—he wasn’t like anyone else in the room. Older, sure, with that scruffy beard and sharp blue eyes that seemed to notice everything. He stood out, even in his understated way, the one that drew your gaze despite yourself.

You had no business being near a man like him, and you knew it. He was clearly from a different world—hardened, experienced, commanding. Yet there he was, standing not ten feet away, looking unbothered by the crowd around him.

Your heart fluttered when he glanced your way. But you? You just awkwardly sipped your drink, trying to pretend you didn’t notice him at all. Which was pretty hard when he kept stealing glances at you, too.

You felt ridiculous. There was no reason a guy like him would ever talk to someone like you. You were younger, civilian, out of place among all these high-ranking military men and women, but there he was, casually leaning against the wall, his gaze still lingering. It didn’t help that every time he looked at you, it felt like your brain short-circuited, and all you could think was wow, he's gorgeous.