Across the way, Roman Rhodes saw Stella Sterling approaching and stubbed out his cigarette.
His voice was low. "Still half-asleep?"
Stella Sterling shook her head and walked toward the parasol, her mind filled with filthy thoughts.
As she walked, her eyes met his, and she instantly looked away as if she'd received an electric shock.
She felt guiltier than someone with a troubled conscience.
Roman Rhodes's eyes narrowed. As the young woman stepped into the shade of the parasol, he took her wrist. "What is it? You don't feel well?"
"Not at all," Stella Sterling said, pressing her lips into a smile and lowering her head to meet his gaze.
He was sitting, and she was standing before him.
Just then, a warm breeze carrying the scent of grass gently blew past.
It ruffled the hair at his temples and fluttered the open collar of his shirt.
From her vantage point, looking down, Stella's eyes easily caught a glimpse of the view beneath his collar.
