The city glowed beneath them–tiny lights flickering like candles. She stood at the edge of the balcony, robe slipping from one shoulder, hair tousled by the wind, completely unaware of his presence.

He watched her from the doorway, sipping wine. The silk clung to her back, molded to her skin by the breeze, sheer enough to tease him with every dip and curve. He could see the goosebumps on her arms, the way her fingers curled slightly around the iron railing. Every inch of her—barefoot, back arched, vulnerable and oblivious—pulled him like gravity.