She looked at him, studied his long, crooked nose and the way his black hair fell around his whetstone jawline, the heavy arch of his dark brow. Those eyes, shards of obsidian, bored into her. He was not an attractive man—he could even be terrifying. She ought to be frightened. She was, a little. But not disgusted. Not repulsed. No, she wanted him very badly, and that couldn’t happen if she was disgusted by him.