ILIANA’S POV
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White short skirt with a slit that hugs my waist, white cropped vest with four gold buttons down the middle coming in a v-shape neckline, I slip my feet into the white sandals, letting out a shuddered breath. “I hope my mother is in a good mood,” I force a smile as I turn to face Drystan, but it turns into a real one as he stands tall, fixing the collar of his light blue button up shirt, the first two buttons undone, exposing his tanned skin. His white trousers fit loosely, yet so perfect that my mouth waters. “Don’t worry,” he rolls up his sleeves mid forearm, gazing into my eyes with a reassuring look.
He’s so f*****g perfect.
His eyes drag down the length of me, and his throat bobs as he swallows, “You better not bend over in that skirt, or we might have problems.” he
