A professional CALL GIRL, falling for a heartless ASSASSIN with eyes of ice. A paranormal romance darker than sin.
By day, EVELYN SCOTT works in a café, but come nightfall she secretly escorts herself to the wealthy upper classes of Amsterdam. Every...
75% percent of women don't orgasm from 'regular' sex.
Evelyn's p.o.v
"Need any help there, love?"
I turned to face the voice, this time more than welcome for a stranger's help until I matched the deep voice with a face. Oh God, please not now. This was no stranger.
"I'm fine actually, thank you." I tired my best attempt at a blasé tone but the crimson blood currently running along my hand and down my forearm contradicted my words. He rose up to his full, staggering height and tilted his head to one side, seemingly amused by my answer. There had to be at least a foot difference between our heights.
"So you're telling me your hand normally bleeds like that on a daily basis? I'm no doctor but it looks like you need my help." His voice was soft, almost verging on caring but I didn't look at him. I knew better. "Look, just let me help you." He repeated in a firmer, demanding tone. I risked another look up and found myself lost in those deep, glassy eyes. The same eyes that belonged to a killer, a murderer. That shook me out of his hold.
Luca's eyes roamed the bar behind me, depthless sapphires scanning the surrounding area at all time. It was almost as though he had some kind of sixth sense for danger. To say the man was intimidating would be an understatement. He somehow managed to captivate the whole room with his presence only, and without even meaning to do so. His air of easy confidence was overwhelming and caused me to check myself; he wasn't the only one here with a hero complex, although mine was a little less hero and a lot more more cowardly wimp. His jaw was clean shaven and contrasted against his thick brows and unruly dark hair that seemed to have been almost forgotten in his rush to get inside the club.
"Not you." I backed away from him with a wary step. I had watched this man kill in broad daylight with my own eyes, he was not a man I wanted to get involved with.
He blinked in surprise and then to my astonishment, he smiled. "How do you do that?" His eyes didn't completely lose their brooding edge even with the smile, implying that he was the type of person that enjoyed keeping everyone at arms length. For the briefest of seconds, I allowed myself to wonder why that might be. Was he scarred as a child in some way or did he just enjoy being an arrogant asshole? Either way, it wasn't my place to find out why. It never would be and for some unknown reason, that caused me to frown.
"Do what?" My hand was now starting to sting, the pain registering slowly and then all at once in a sudden wave. It felt as though my entire hand was on fire, every nerve burning until I could hardly keep my eyes open. I had never had such a serious or gruesome looking injury and the pain was overwhelming. All the blood reminded me of Hope's accident and I gulped down the painful memory.
"I could help you with that pesky injury of yours if only you'd let me." He paused for a second, returning his gaze to me. I felt goose bumps rise down my arms as his eyes raked over my short dress and then snapped back up to my face. "You're a stubborn little thing now, aren't you Evie?"
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