Caged Temptress | 18+

| 6 |

eidetic (adjective): marked by or involving extraordinarily accurate and vivid recall especially of visual images

EVA PETROV

I've remembered everything since I was three years old.

Every word in every story book my father would read to me.

Every face of my mother's friends.

Every single one of my brothers' annoying remarks.

Even all of their ex girlfriends.

I recall all of it.

So why is it that the man standing in front of me, right now, is coming up as a blank.

Towering over my shaky frame, dark hair hanging down. The sharp tips of each strand look like they could stab straight into his eyes. His head is lowered at me as the equally dark eyes pierce straight through mine.

There was no doubt about it, this man was attractive.

Standing at approximately 6 feet 6 inches. He was almost a foot taller than me. With me in 4-inch heels, there is only a half foot difference between us. Pure muscle evident beneath his dark shirt.

He has a ruggedly handsome look to him. His grown out dark hair, rough stubble, and thick straight brows that frame his tan skin.

His face is beautiful enough to stop people on the street and charm them out of every single cent in their bank accounts.

It would be enough if it wasn't for the dark aura surrounding him.

Faint scars littered his face. One cuts into the side of his bottom lip and another under his right eye. A large gash runs from the bottom edge of his left jaw across his neck and to the top of his chest. The few buttons undone of his shirt made it clear that the rest of the scar was hidden.

Even if I didn't know his name, I would have recognized his face.

"Explícame por qué entraste a mi oficina anoche," his rough voice shakes me out of my trance. (Explain to me why you came into my office last night.)

What the fuck happened last night?

I woke up ten minutes ago on a black leather chair with this man leaning against the desk across from me. I instantly stood up and felt a heavy feeling in my head. A numbing ache from something last night and the pained feeling of not being able to remember the main standing in front of me.

"No hablo español." (I don't speak Spanish.) His eyebrows furrow down at me and I notice his jaw tick.

Even after an entire night out, I've been able to remember everything. I can't remember anything from last night. The last thing I do recall is sitting with Arden in Isa's office.

"You're lying," his Spanish accent tinges the end of each word. My nails dig into my arm to refocus my head from spiraling into dirty thoughts about this attractive stranger.

"I'm not," I cross my arms against my body tighter. "Who are you?"

His dark eyes search mine. I can't read a single emotion on his face.