Devon stood abruptly, his chair scraping softly against the rug, his body moving on instinct. His dark eyes drank her in, tracing the familiar lines of her face, the slight flush on her cheeks and the way her lips parted in a mix of surprise and something deeper.
Serena Voss descended the final steps like a vision from his past, her auburn hair shimmering under the chandelier's glow, her ivory sundress clinging to every curve with effortless allure. Devon's gaze swept over her slowly, appreciatively from the elegant arch of her neck, down the swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist, to the sway of her hips and the toned length of her legs.
She was a masterpiece, unchanged yet somehow more intoxicating, the years adding a layer of sophistication to the fire he remembered.
