James Wallace's POV
I stare at the ceiling of my old room. I haven't slept well at all; I'm not used to being here anymore. Or maybe I'm just completely stunned by everything that happened in the early hours of the morning. Damn it! "Megan Blake"—how did I never see her before? She's always been a child in my memory, in my eyes, not this... woman, this young woman she is now. I know I looked at her differently, that my human instinct made me think a thousand things upon noticing her physical qualities, confirming that what Lucian said is true. She is a rare gem. What am I saying? She looks and feels like a completely tantalizing sin. And she tells me that she always liked me, that with just one look from me, she would have fallen at my feet before. And now? I can't just ignore this. I try
