Carlos Sainz Hair Novels & Stories

Carlos had multiple faint puncture wounds from Conrad's canines, and then finally had figured out where to mark, an almost identical place as hers. Carlos' hair was in a messy ponytail, which was unusual for him. He usually prided himself in his hair's appearance, braiding it or tying it back - or at least combing it. His white t-shirt is creased, and he's still wearing his pyjama bottoms as he appears. "And you marked dad," Sabrina grins, giggling as she looks at her dad. "Yeah, I did," Conrad cringes, slightly horrified. She didn't think she did it that badly, but the injuries on his throat would disagree with that opinion.

She called and the handsome man smiled. “May I have this dance?.” He asked with a gentle bow and an outstretched arm. Thirty minutes back... Carlos Alberto heaved a sigh of relief on seeing Noah finally join the celebration. He calculated that he would be out of there in no time after he got the opportunity to speak with the man. Or so he thought. Carlos was completely blown away to see the CEO walk in with a woman, her red hair was what had caught his attention in the first place. “Red hair, I love redheads.” He thought dreamily. But Carlos was in for yet another shock.

I reply arrogantly, thinking of the woman who reminds me of a princesa right out of a storybook with that hair and those curves. “Yet you call her Princesa.” Jose mocks. I exhale slowly, “Cabrón?” “Yeah?” he smirks. “Shut it.” They both snicker. “Don’t you like a woman with light hair?” Carlos asks. “And those curves… no?” Jose adds.

Vesper had often said it, albeit annoying sometimes, but I didn't believe most of the things that came out of his mouth. Not him alone, even Zain and Lance. "Doesn't matter if I believe you or not," I said. Zain shook his head, but amazingly, his hair, which was piled atop his head in a quiff, was still intact. He must have an amazing stylist or maybe a hair product that could make his hair stay in such a position despite the movement he made. Zain stepped towards me, and he gripped my hand, startling me. Raising my head to look directly into his eyes, he smirked, "Your beauty outshines even the goddess of beauty."

I say aloud. "This is-" Ryan stops in mid-sentence when he notices my new haircut, "Woah, Sanaya. What happened to your hair?" "Show it to me." Carol touches my arm. I turn my head to her. "I went to the salon you suggested." I shrug. She observes my hair thoroughly before saying, "My God. Sanaya, this hair color making you look beautiful and young." Tessa laughs, "I agree with you. I also want to do my hair now."

But one detail was wrong—his hair. Carlos’s jet black hair, normally a polished symbol of his composure, was scattered and unruly. That alone told me something was amiss. I gave him a long, deliberate look, my gaze lingering on the disarray. He caught it and, almost reflexively, tried to smooth his hair back into place, but the effort was useless. “How was it?” I asked, my tone clipped. His hand, out of habit, raked through his hair, gathering a clump of it.

Not young men like Harvey or Joe, or Jayden or Olly. Carlos didn’t have a boyish look on his face at all! He was a manly-man. His hair was cut short, his brows were arched beautifully, a hint of facial hair on his jaw was visible, his hair had a hint of grey and his body was buff. It was obvious that this man works out in the gym. He wore a suit that couldn’t hide his hard biceps. She wondered how he really looked under it.

she said, disappointed. “I am sorry but Xavier’s order to do it,” he said. She gasped. “That bully, so he spread the news in the school that I got the longest name in school and teachers are calling me different names,” she said, annoyed. “Liam, finally, you are here,” she turned and shocking beauty was standing in front of her, Carlos Onosis. He was tall 6ft.1inches and leaner muscular. He head off towards Liam and Bro hugged him.

Some minerals and dirt cover up even the strongest smell in the world. I was already on the porch of the house and I could see her, her limbs were tied and a man with an eye patch was holding her. Her hair was messed up and her features declared boredom and irritation. My eyes left hers when I noticed another familiar scent and soon I saw him get out of the car looking serious. He crouched down and untied Alison's legs before facing me. Santiago, very different from what I remember. Pulling from his mother's genetics, his blond hair was shaved on the sides and low on top, his previously amused and smug brown gaze showed seriousness and a block, as if he didn't want anyone to see what he felt

Alejandro said gently, reaching for the remote. "No." My voice was harder than I'd heard it in months. "I need to see what we're fighting against." On screen, Carlos appeared looking perfectly calm, devastatingly handsome in a dark suit that probably cost more than most people's cars. His performance was masterful, the grieving husband, the worried charity leader, the man carrying an impossible burden with quiet dignity. The studio lights made his expensive suit shine, and his perfectly styled hair didn't have a strand out of place. He looked like the kind of man people trusted with their money, their votes, their lives.