The moment Sarah Lacy stepped out, the world seemed to pause.
Her black hair cascaded down her back like a sheet of silk caught in a gentle breeze. A soft blush tinted her cheeks, giving her a warmth that contrasted with the cool elegance of her swan-like neck, pale and smooth, its graceful lines flowing into the delicate dips of her collarbones—subtle, natural curves that drew the eye the way moonlight pulls at ocean tides.
Two slender straps rested lightly on her shoulders, supporting a swimsuit tailored with meticulous precision, sculpted to frame the proud, breathtaking lines of her figure.
A sheer rainbow-hued sarong wrapped loosely around her slender waist—a waist so narrow it seemed a single arm could circle it with ease. The gauzy fabric swayed with each tiny movement, rippling
