Caris opened her eyes and looked at the profile of the man driving her getaway car. Malachi Blackwood was quite possibly the most handsome man she’d ever seen in her life. His hair was thick, worn just a bit too long and it was a mess of black curls. His eyes were dark brown, like espresso coffee or like the earth her roses grew in, and he rarely made any attempt to censure the emotions in them and they were rimmed with thick eyelashes most women would kill for. His eyes laughed, mocked, and hated with equal ferocity and she’d seen grown men cry just from a scowl of Malachi. His nose was straight and proud, and his mouth was full, plush and in the moment, they were pursed as he drove, his eyes focused on the dark road ahead.
As she looked at his bare arms, she realized at some point he’d
