Luca took in the robe she was wearing with the slow attention of a man who never missed detail. His gaze traveled from the hollow of her throat, to the bare slope of her legs beneath the silk. He lifted his wine glass and took a measured sip.
A smirk curved at the corner of his mouth. "Untie the robe."
"Here? Now?" she asked.
"Now."
Vee slipped her fingers to the belt and tugged slowly. She let the fabric loosen inch by inch, let it fall from her shoulders. The robe pooled at her elbows.
Beneath it, black floral lace hugged her breasts, sheer enough to hint, intricate enough to torment. Silky satin shorts skimmed her hips, clinging to the curve of her waist and the soft line of her thighs.
"Well," Luca drawled, setting his glass down, "someone clearly came dressed for a fuck."
His eyes were darker now.
"You're the one stalling," she shot back, lifting her chin slightly.
