Delfina stared at the man approaching. Her eyes raking him from head to toe and back again. Decked out in a tuxedo which hugged every ridge and muscle of his body, a body which after the past six days she was incredibly familiar with. His thick black hair was twisted in a bun at the back of his head, and it was shiny and glossy, and she fought the urge to tug it from its restraints and wind it around her fists and shove him to his knees and under her dress. His raised eyebrows told her he was reading her thoughts, and she cleared her throat.
Carma was at her side before he was, and she mumbled about Furio arriving too soon and being a buzzkill. She snickered at Carma’s words.
“Furio. You made it.”
“I’m sorry I am late to the party,” he looked at her as if she were the only one in the ro
