Oliver and I sit staring at each other. A million thoughts are racing through my mind, none of them pleasant.
I’m the first to look away. I can’t concentrate with those bright green eyes of his pinning me down like that.
Eyes that unusual shade of chartreuse green, like the first fresh leaves of spring - a trait that he must have inherited from his mother, Cynthia Winsworth, who has those same alluring green eyes.
How the hell didn’t I notice that before? It’s so obvious. I’ve probably missed all sorts of signs.
Think Val! I tell myself. Think! Try to remember that day you first met him back in October. Was there any clue that it was all a set up? Could it really be just a coincidence that the two of you got trapped in an elevator together? Surely not. And what was he doing at WhiteSta
