Her first instinct was to run.
Run, Mira. Run.
She wanted to leave behind the things Sheila had asked her to pick up, come up with a convincing lie, and forget about this entire errand. But running would only make her a coward.
"Hi, stranger."
His voice was smooth, glazed with amusement, his lips stretching into a mischievous smile—one that was both irresistibly attractive and dangerously dark.
Mira swallowed. She had never met anyone who exudes such an air of mystery yet was so damn alluring.
He looked innocent enough, but that smirk, that wicked smirk could make a woman weak in the knees.
And God, how was it possible for someone to be this good-looking?
The events of that night replayed in her head, again and again, as if taunting her. She forced herself to push them aside.
Forg
