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Meet Ares, a mouth-watering American, who’s all bravery and brawn.
Meet Margueax, human trafficking expert with an icy exterior.
Together, passion burns as they battle the enemy once and for all.

Pretty boy, Adonis, Marvel model—I know all the things they say about me. But all I want is to prove there's more to me than meets the eye, and save these innocent women from more tragedy and pain.


“He’s ridiculous. I mean, have you seen him? He’s a walking, talking cover model for a romance book,” I overheard MI5’s human trafficking expert say as I approached the place where she and I were scheduled to meet with her boss, Z Alexander.

I didn’t wait to hear his response. Instead, I stalked into his office despite the protests from his secretary, ordering me to stop.

Comments like the woman’s were something I’d heard most of my life, coupled with things like “Greek god” and “Adonis.” And, worse, a comparison to the model whose likeness had been used for the Marvel comic book character, Ares. True, it had been the fodder used when I was given my code name. However, the initial sketches had been drawn for the release of an issue that came out twenty years before I was born.

I cleared my throat, which was unnecessary for Z, who watched me walk in and didn’t bother to try masking his amusement at my hearing what the woman I was assigned to work with had to say about me.

“Good morning,” I said, taking a seat in the empty chair before it was offered. “You must be Margeaux.” I looked her up and down, letting my gaze linger a little too long on her ample cleavage.

While my intention had been to make her feel as ill at ease as her inappropriate comments had me, the stirring I felt in my groin was as surprising as it was unwelcome.

She folded her arms, covering her breasts, and raised her chin. Her eyes bored into mine when I finally looked up at her face. “Point taken,” she muttered.

My smile was as unexpected as the rate at which my attraction to her was building. Good on her for not pretending she hadn’t classified me as a piece of meat, as they say.

Z cleared his throat like I had when I walked in. “Well, this will be interesting,” he muttered.

I couldn’t agree more.

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