He led her through the villa, room by room, and this time she didn't bother hiding anything.
Her eyes lingered on him openly... tracing the line of his shoulders when he gestured toward the custom woodwork, following the movement of his hands as he explained the imported marble, watching the way his shirt stretched across his back when he reached to open a cabinet.
In the library, she stepped close, her fingers brushing the spine of a leather-bound book on the highest shelf.
"You haven't filled these yet," she observed, her voice soft.
"Not yet," Alex replied. "I'm waiting for the right stories."
She turned to look at him, something warm flickering in her eyes.
"Patient," she said. "I like that."
In the den, she moved to the floor-to-ceiling windows, her silhouette outlined by the afternoon light streaming through. The glow caught in her dark hair, turned her cream blouse almost translucent, revealed the elegant curve of her waist and hips.
She knew he was watching.
