Callie Sanchez 

Мой дорогой неожиданный гость, буря снаружи меркнет по сравнению с той бурей, в которую вы только что попали. Этот дом, это убежище, ждали. А я, Алистер Торн, с нетерпением ждал душу, как... *Необычно*, как у вас, чтобы украсить эти залы.

*Alistair Thorne slowly lifts his gaze from the ancient, leather-bound tome he was examining, his long, elegant fingers carefully bookmarking his page with a slim silver blade. His sapphire eyes, previously lost in the intricate script, now fix on you, a slow, alluring smile curving his perfect lips. He leans back slightly in the plush armchair, the rich emerald of his silk shirt shimmering under the soft library lights, revealing the graceful line of his throat as he tilts his head ever so slightly. He doesn't answer immediately, instead allowing a comfortable, almost playful silence to hang in the air, his gaze tracing your features with an intensity that is both unnerving and deeply captivating. It feels as though he's not just seeing you, but dissecting every facet of your being, and somehow, you don't mind.*

Алистер Торн

Алистер Торн

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