Novel & Cerita Amouage Memoir Man

“Freedom won’t keep you warm when you’re old.” He stood, stretched, then did a little spin. “Come on, Mum. It’ll be wicked to tie all this handsomeness to one woman. Look at me, fresh, wealthy, wanted. The CEO of King’s Company. The nation’s most eligible bachelor.” He walked over and kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry, I’m your son. That’s enough legacy.” She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the tiny smile. **************************8 Amaya’s phone rang loud enough to pull her out of deep sleep. She reached over, fumbled a little, and answered.

I asked Amelia quietly as we sat in a conference room as cold as a morgue. She bit her thumbnail. Classic sign of stress. Or defeat. Or both. “He once owned a place in Nice I didn’t even know about until a year into the marriage. You really think that was the only one he kept secret?” I nodded slowly. “So we’re treating this whole report like... historical fiction?” She gave a weak smile. “Welcome to elite marriage. Where money and lies sleep in the same bed.” The door opened. Zane Romano walked in, Vivienne Duclair trailing behind him. They looked like they’d stepped off a legal thriller movie poster—plus the smell of overpriced cologne and egos the size of a helipad.

You’re the most frustratingly beautiful man I’ve ever met… and the only one who’s ever made my stomach flip like this. What the hell have you done to me… sir… Amara drank him in with her eyes, nearly memorizing every detail. His sun-kissed skin. That jawline that looked like it had been sculpted by the gods. Even the tiny mole near the corner of his lips hadn’t escaped her attention. What perfect lips… and you’re the only man who’s ever kissed me like that—deep, consuming, and hot enough to make my knees go weak… And the way you kissed me down there...

The man's athletic body leaned in front of Amanda's body with his sturdy arms confined to the woman holding on to the bar table. The scent of masculine and expensive perfume that he wore was smelly in both of Amanda's nostrils. Intoxicating scent that can damage the brain if it is continuously inhaled. Amanda give so much courage to stare at the man who have those strange brown eyes. The man's gaze was so sharp and intimidating Amanda. If she stare longer, Amanda believes she will be hypnotized. "Who are you!?" hissed Amanda. The smirk that the man displayed made Amanda's groin twitch without being asked. Double damn! The man's face folded to become more charming and sexy at one time.

Amanza flicks his dreamy eyes up to my mind, studying me with characteristic intensity and analyzing every minor detail about me as a lady. "Have these comely feet ever been massaged, my darling?" He asks, holding one of my ankles hostage in his large hand while the other hand stirs up a passion in my other leg. Amanza places my legs across his muscular thigh, not setting me free. My eyes glisten as I look at his excellent bone structure while enjoying the pleasantries of Amanza's smooth voice. It alone did unexplainable things to me. But I listened and was willing to let him prove that he was ready to start again. His touch on my body was an excellent place to begin.

He believed that Adam was too mad at him, and Adam didn't like it when he was around. “Maybe, they're busy.” Amoux bowed his head. However, he was thankful that his father had removed his memories, but he still remembered their plan. He couldn't believe someone could see memories; what kind of ability was that? “I don't think your father would be too busy, especially since his son was in the hospital. You're his successor, and I know that he would do everything to protect you.” Adam's voice was too severe; he was glaring at Amoux and trying to intimidate him.

She was always moving around me as if I was her lifeguard and it was really annoying. I know that she's Amoux type but I don't think Amoux is the type to mix pleasure with business. In the sense that he was the one that went to bring them to Deep Water. “Yes, Reagan. He should be back soon, I think I have to go have a shower, ” Amoux answered as he looked at how rough he was. “You sure do need a shower, because man. You stink, ” I replied, and tapped his shoulders then immediately removed my head as if I was getting dirtied by him.

She glanced at him from head to toe and tilted her head back towards the shelf of goods as if nothing had happened. "Wait—don't tell me you don't remember me?" The man did not stop pursuing Ameira. When she was sure that the products were in the right place and in order, Ameira walked away. She just looked straight ahead even though the man was still following her. The man grabbed her by the elbow before she could finally leave. "Yah, I'm talking to you. Has what happened last night become so ingrained in your mind that you can't remember it anymore, or are you just pretending you don't remember me?" His voice was a mixture of sadness and frustration.

She grabbed a silver letter opener from the counter, her breath coming in shallow hitches. "Hello? Is someone in there?" The voice was deep, but it didn't have the metallic edge of Duncan’s Command. It smelled of Cedar, Rain, and something wilder. Amora pulled back the curtain. Standing on the porch was a man she hadn't seen in years. He was broader than she remembered, with scars peaking out from the collar of his denim jacket. A Rogue or at least, he looked like one. She threw the door open. "Oscar?" she whispered.

He never touched any of it, always saying, "A gentleman stays away from the kitchen." I shook my head. "No need. She's your wife. It's only right that she lives there." Lisa raised her brows. "I've already humbled myself. Why are you still so arrogant? Besides, you can scold me if you want, but you and Anthony were husband and wife. How can you not even trust him?" I replied coldly, "Don't say it like that. I don't have a husband who pretends to have amnesia and brings another woman home. Let's part on good terms."