The chambers were dimly lit by the soft glow of oil lamps and the last traces of evening light filtering through the tall windows.
The air was warm, scented with the faint traces of incense and the richer aroma of the wine Jake had ordered brought up.
A tray sat on a low table near the bed - fine crystal goblets, a decanter of rich red wine from the villa's cellars, and an assortment of simple but elegant foods: sliced meats, cheeses, bread, and fruits. The large four-poster bed dominated the space, its dark silk sheets already slightly rumpled from earlier movements.
Matilda stood near the table, her voluptuous figure outlined by the lamplight. The emerald silk gown clung to her full, heavy breasts and the soft, womanly curves of her hips and belly.
She looked every bit the mature beauty Jake craved—soft where it mattered, strong in the lines of her face and the quiet confidence in her posture.
