As I open my eyes, I see a dark-haired, green-eyed man in the corner chair.
The last thing I expect is that he’s my BFF’s billionaire cousin, whom I don’t remember.
I’m in the hospital with no recollection of why I’m here.
Nicholas Saint-Michael – even his name is sexy.
He is eye-candy gorgeous, and his sleeve tats hint he’s a bad boy.
Ooohh…his lips are yummy, not to mention those six-pack abs and sun-kissed, bulging forearms.
I can’t take my eyes off him.
Those lips look velvety-soft and that first kiss tells me I’m right.
But I need to remember.
I’m sure there are secrets I’m not being told.
I don’t know if I should worry or sit back, convalesce, and enjoy this man at his mansion.
He pokes dangerously at the edges of my memory but makes my body sing.
Then come glimpses of past experiences – maybe false memories.
Gods, I hope so, because I can’t live that nightmare.
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