The Colonel's mouth was pressed into a hard line, stony eyes shining with barely concealed rage. His usual fidgeting had stilled as though he were frozen to the spot, every tanned and toned muscle in his body tense and taught like piano strings. Waiting to pounce. His anger was directed towards the man standing in front of him. Some goddamn Pentagon windbag who had probably never been on the wrong of a gun in his life. Jack forced his fingers into fists by his sides and bounced on his heels, long eyelashes fixed into place as he refused to even blink. Slowly, carefully, the corner of his mouth turned upwards that another person would have mistaken for a smile but she knew better. His was the warning signal of a trained assassin. Dark, sparkling eyes continued to pierce a hole through the man in front of him, refusing to back down. No one in the room dared to move.
As she silently stared, Sam drew in a short, sharp breath, loud like a gunshot in her head. She'd never been more turned on in her life.
She was so screwed.