The name was on the tip of the tongue, yet remained elusive.
"I don't know." The door opened, and a breeze lifted Maeve Lane's stray hairs at her temples. Her glossy red lips curled into a faint smile, her delicate face glowed with a pearly sheen in the light.
Asher Forrest was captivated at first glance by the girl with raven hair and snow-white skin in front of him.
She was unbelievably fair and striking, from head to ankle; wherever her skin was exposed, it held an ivory-like delicate texture, as if a beauty carved from jade.
Her light-coloured eyes were like glazed cerulean, lashes dense and curled, lips naturally red, even her furrowed brows were breathtakingly beautiful.
Maeve Lane frowned with some impatience; the moment this man entered, he stared at her with a probing gaze, as though assessing the value of prey, making one feel uncomfortable.
At this instant, the gaze finally jogged Sarah Sutton's memory; she exclaimed:
