Clara
I woke slowly, reluctant to open my eyes. My mouth was dry, my tongue heavy with the bitter aftertaste of alcohol. My whole body ached with thirst.
When I finally blinked into the light, fragments of last night began to rearrange themselves in my mind. Behind a massive oak desk sat Adam, immaculate in a gray three-piece suit. He looked as though he had stepped out of some American mafia film from the first half of the twentieth century. Handsome. Undeniably so.
For several quiet minutes, I watched him as he read through a stack of documents, until his dark eyes lifted to mine.
“Have you had your fill of staring yet?”
I startled so violently I nearly jumped out of my skin.
“Oh my God!”
His lips curved into a satisfied smile.
“No need to be so formal. Just Adam will do.”
“That
