In my novel Masquerade, book two of the Andalusian Nights trilogy, the heroine Luz is maddeningly attracted to her new employer, Andrès. I say ‘maddeningly’, because while Andrès is in so many ways a good match for her – charismatic, intelligent, charming, successful in his work – he is also edged with darkness. Luz’s body aches to get close to him; her mind, however, screams ‘danger’.

Take, for example, this excerpt from the book:

He looked like Apollyon, his head tilted back a little in haughty disdain and his swarthy profile limned clear-cut against the vaulted backcloth of brilliant darkness: proud and arrogant, belonging to the distinguished physique of a man born to dominate and rule. She was aware of a fluttering stir in her gut, shooting pulses at her nerve-endings that were becoming all too familiar.

Apollyon, in case you’re wondering, is a dark angel in Greek mythology, and the Devil himself according to some Biblical sources. Clearly not the ideal man to fall for, and yet Andrès makes Luz feel so intently. No wonder she drives home ‘as if running away from Lucifer himself… in a frenzy of shock and confusion’.

For the coming days, whenever Luz encounters Andrès she is plunged into turmoil, and invariably finds herself comparing this man to the prince of darkness. He is as ‘handsome as the Devil in his white dinner jacket and dark trousers’. He hasa ‘devilish glint in those dark smoky irises’. Angered, he looks ‘like a fallen angel, raised from the bottomless pit to take out his wrath on mankind’.

Understandably, Luz is perturbed by her pervading instinct that there is a darkness in Andrès. But she is also excited by his devilishness. Take the following glimpse:

As Luz glanced at the elegant businessman facing her, she took in the lean jaw and slight frown marring his perfect profile. She imagined he was as magnificent as an avenging angel when in full flight of fury. Luz saw him stiffen as he noticed her looking at him. That hooded gaze was back as he lifted his glass to his mouth and drank, watching her, before slowly placing it down again. She quivered as if those sensuously sculpted lips had touched hers.

Masterful, enigmatic, powerful, unhindered by rules: is it any wonder women are attracted to ‘bad boys’?

What is it that draws Luz to Andrès? If I were being kind to Luz, I would say it is that she can sense what lies beneath his mask; that she knows what is for show and what is real; that she knows that the light in him far eclipses the darkness.

Truthfully, though, the attraction is based more on the universal fascination for, and attraction to, ‘the dark side’. As Oscar Wilde wrote, ‘We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell.’ In a country just awakening from the repressive regime of Franco, which exacted so many limitations and rules, Luz is drawn to rebellion, to a man who will spar with her and allow her to explore her deepest desires – and despite his smart suit and professionalism, Andrès on some level represents this.

Do you enjoy romance novels with a devilish hero? Does the fallen angel type appeal to you? Who is your favourite romantic hero with an edge of darkness? I would love to hear your thoughts.