Chantelle sneered, "All in all, you're just an ordinary man, a slave to your desires with a pathetically mediocre mind."

She had finally caught an opening to hit Andrew where it hurt, and she was not about to waste it.

Andrew chuckled. "Ms. Garcia, you really do live up to your title as a master of psychology. You got most of it right. But you still missed one tiny detail—like the fact that, right now, I've got a very clear image of your naked body in my mind."

The bluntness of that line stunned Chantelle, and her expression twisted in outrage. She snapped, "Andrew! That was in the past—how dare you bring it up like it's nothing? Aren't you worried I'll kill you?"

The usually cold woman was genuinely furious now.

Andrew shrugged lazily. "I'm sitting right here, wounded and unarmed. Go ahead, kill me. But even if you did, you still wouldn't erase the fact that you once stripped bare in front of me."

Chantelle raised her hand in fury but forced herself to lower it again with