The first thing I did after resigning was travel.
Along the way, quite a few men tried to approach me, but none of them were worth remembering.
That night, at a bar, I sat alone, feeling a faint sense of emptiness. So I ordered company.
Luca Moreau arrived quickly. He was tall, easily over six feet, with striking features. He leaned down beside me, his voice low and warm.
"You're beautiful," he said. "Let's dance."
For a moment, I was caught off guard by his deep blue eyes. I didn't come back to myself until he gently guided my hand against his chest.
Beneath my fingertips, I could feel the firm lines of his muscles. A flicker of nervousness rose inside me.
He noticed. With an easy smile, he placed my hands around his waist and pulled me closer as we moved onto the dance floor.
The
