“Care to watch and learn, luv?” Oh, he’s good. Beneath the shadow that the brim of his hat cast across his features was a sharp, handsome face, with a pointed chin and the kind of cheekbones Tempest had only seen illustrated in books of legends and fairy tales. She thought his eyes might be brown, but then he shifted slightly and they caught the light, and Tempest realized they were gold. Not amber or topaz or citrine. Pure, molten, unrelenting gold. They were perhaps the most astonishing eyes Tempest had ever seen. Wicked Hell, the man was handsome.
