He was tall, taller than anybody I’d ever seen. He wore all black, like his housekeeper, and it was clear he had not shaved in recent days. The lower half of his face was covered with a dark, bristly stubble, framing lips that were surprisingly full. His nose was strong and patrician, but it was his eyes that were the most compelling: they were black, with strong black brows slashing over them. His gaze was intense, and it felt as though his eyes—those dark pools of mystery—were luring me in as Hades must have lured Persephone to her doom.
My Dark Husband by Percy Wittlesford