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... hen she looked at him, a surreal chill swept across her entire body.

This man… even though he was so elegant and beautiful… there was something unspeakably dark and dangerous about him.

He was surely no angel. She could feel it. She could sense it in her bones.

"Hmm… Am I not talking to you?" The man extended his hand, almost reaching Sylvia's face.

Sylvia's eyes moved, trailing his actions, watching his hand curiously.

SNAP!

The man made a loud so ...

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“You…” She stepped back. Then back again, her mouth dropped open. “You… You cannot be…”

“I am,” Etan said, and his hair raked back as he pushed his mask off his handsome face. So handsome her heart raced.

His hair was ebony black, his skin a warm brown that threatened to fade in in the winter months. He stared at her with glittering green eyes, over high cheekbones and a noble nose, his jaw tight and shadowed this late in the day. His chin was high over the pillar of his neck that she’d just touched with its hard lines and steel strength, so different to her own. And his chest... She gasped and covered her eyes. She’d humiliated herself revealing her stupid, childish curiosity.

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“How can you say that? It changes everything!” She was horrified to realize she was crying.

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She couldn’t resist. She raised a trembling hand to his cheek, letting her palm catch on the scruff of his jaw. He blew out a breath and put his hand over hers, and that jolt that happened whenever they touched shivered through her again.

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