Oakley's POV
Her long gown was bouncing as she fled the ballroom, and I could see that she was crying from the hands she had over her face. My black eyes were fixed on her.
My lips curled into a smile as I kept staring at the area where she had just passed through. The image of her dress train bouncing as she ran never left my thoughts. Candance, my darling Candance. As she came down the steps to meet me, I grinned to myself once more, remembering how lovely she was.
The white gown she was wearing, which I noted was corseted, fit her like a glove and looked custom-made for her; in fact, I had it made for her, and the manner it was so flawless astounded me. The corset emphasized her bosom, and I felt a primitive impulse to bury my face in them and leave bite marks to let everyone
