Andre's POV
The moment her fingers made contact with my skin, revulsion shot through me like poison.
This woman's touch felt wrong in every possible way. Her hands were cold where they should have been warm, rough where they should have been gentle. Nothing about her reminded me of what I truly wanted.
I glanced down at her face and the disgust intensified. Layers of foundation caked her features like plaster, transforming her into something artificial and grotesque. False eyelashes hung from her lids like spider legs, and crimson lipstick had smeared beyond her lips, creating a messy stain.
How had I even confused her with Meryl for a split second? The thought made me sick with myself.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I snarled, seizing her wrist and shoving her away with enough force to send her staggering backward.
She stared at me with wide, startled eyes. "I assumed you wanted-"
