Major Iqbal’s eyes snapped toward the door as it creaked open, his sharp gaze softening the instant he saw her. “Shit…” he muttered under his breath, stepping forward, every muscle tense, yet his voice lowered as he approached. “Are you alright?” he asked, kneeling slightly to help her pick up the fallen donut box, his large hands brushing hers in a casual touch, though every inch of him screamed protective intensity. His usual cold, calculating demeanor was gone; all that remained was the man completely undone by her presence. “You shouldn’t have seen this… it’s not… it’s not for you,” he said softly, though his grip on her hand lingered, unwilling to let go. Around them, his agents froze—everyone knew Major Iqbal obeyed no one, except her.