Bianca craned her neck up. Her heart pounded against her rib cage. He was stunning, terrifyingly beautiful. Those high, sharp as blade cheekbones, an angular jaw that could have been carved from marble, a straight nose and thick-corded neck over his broad shoulders—a face sculpted for a monarch, for a God. The sun-kissed skin added to his charm. His eyebrows were a few shades darker than his hair. Full, bow-shaped lips were twitching in a half smile.
The tall man behind the counter with a white cap and a white apron over his white shirt and black pants cocked his golden head to the left and said, "May I help you?"
His voice… It was so deep and melodious. His scent… of spice and lush flowers. His eyes… they were the light hazel color, which was staggering against the black of the pupil and were fanned by the thick, heavy fringe of his eyelashes.
