Control

"Tóso ómorfi," someone almost growled behind me.

My heart jolted with shock in my chest as I shrieked and whirled around.

An imposing man stood before me, his almost-black eyes full of desire. The sleek tuxedo he was wearing fitted the broad expanse of his torso like a second skin. His sun kissed complexion was without flaw and a shadow crept across the shape of his clean shaven jawline. I could smell the bittersweet musk of his aftershave from where I was standing. He was the human vessel of Adonis.

In less than two steps, he had strode forwards until he was right in front of my face.
I could not breathe. The air was as heavy as lead in my lungs. A second passed. He paused-I allowed the moment I had to recoil from him to dissipate around us-and he gripped my chin hard and pushed his mouth fiercely over mine.

I was paralyzed and my mind raced.

Why was he in the women's toilets?

Frances Hayward is a journalist known for her ice queen demeanour-despite her popular articles discussing the do's and don'ts of romance as alter ego Valerie D'Voire. She is also cursed with the burden of keeping her emotions in check after an accident in her past. Ensuring her dormant state is natural for Frances, but tensions run high and remaining in control proves difficult when she meets Greek bachelor Mr Krieos.