My palm glided up her ribs, counting each one under my touch, feeling the frantic flutter beneath her skin. When my thumb brushed the underside of her breast, barely grazing the sensitive curve, her knees buckled.
I held her steady, my strength effortless, my gaze locked on hers—dilated pupils, lips parted, completely lost.
"Eros," she gasped again, the name a broken confession on her lips.
I brought both hands to the single delicate tie at her hip. The silk knot seemed to whisper as my fingers worked it loose. With agonizing slowness, I peeled the negligee down over her hips, letting it glide over her thighs, pooling at her feet like liquid shadow.
The moments of losing her lingerie underneath were memories Amanda never remembered...
She stood before me, bathed in the golden light of Harold's perfect suite—naked except for the glittering diamond on her finger.
Vulnerable. Exposed. Radiant.
