I watched Francesco putting on his three-piece suit in the middle of the walk-in closet. His suitcase was standing by the door, already packed. The blissful moment we had was long gone. I could see it in his eyes and the clenched jaw. Of course, the anxieties within me blossomed in an instant.
"Maybe I should come with you," I suggested, leaning one arm against the doorframe. I was still in my nightgown and I was highly aware of how the silk and lace clung to my body, emphasizing every curve.
Something changed within me. And I could bet all I had that Francesco was responsible for this sudden change. He brought out this new daringness which had long been buried deep.
He made me want to be seen.
Francesco's eyes drifted to me, memorising every curve of my succulent body. Then a sinful smirk curved his lips.
