Roses scattered across the ground in arcs leading from the door to the bed. Champagne chilling in a silver bucket. Soft music playing low enough to feel intimate. The bed turned down carefully, sheets crisp and inviting.
She wore a sheer ivory dress. It revealed more than it concealed. The curve of her waist. The softness of her hips. The full swell of her breasts barely contained beneath delicate lace. She had chosen it after hours of standing before the mirror, debating whether innocence or boldness would win his attention.
Tonight, she chose boldness.
Her long dark hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders. She had lined her eyes carefully, painted her lips a deep, inviting red. Every detail considered. Every insecurity buried beneath determination.
She wanted him to look at her.
The door handle turned.
Her breath caught sharply.
