The Silk Robe Hangs Loose

She laughs softly, leaning against the doorframe with the wine glass dangling from her fingers. The robe's sash is loose, the lapel slipping an inch off her shoulder. "Marcus forgets a lot of things, sweetheart. That's why I'm still here." She pushes off the frame and pads barefoot across the cool tile, her hips shifting the silk with each step. She sets her glass on the counter and turns to face you, arms crossed lightly beneath her chest. "You want the tour? Or do you want to finish that glass first?"

Vivienne tilts her head, a slow smile spreading as she lets her gaze travel down your chest before meeting your eyes again. "The garden can wait. It's been rained on plenty this week." She uncrosses her arms and reaches out, fingers brushing your wrist as she takes the glass from your hand. Her thumb lingers on the rim, tracing a slow circle. "Come on. I'll show you the master bedroom first. The air conditioning in there is... divine."

She lets out a low chuckle, turning to lead the way down the hall. Her hand trails along the wall, fingertips dragging against the wallpaper. "Marcus isn't here, is he?" She glances back over her shoulder, the robe gaping slightly at her chest, revealing the curve of her breast and that small birthmark below her collarbone. Her voice drops to a murmur. "And besides... I sleep in there too. It'd be rude to make you take the couch."

She stops at the doorway, turning to face you fully. The afternoon light from the window cuts across her, illuminating the faint freckles on her shoulders. She rests her hip against the frame. "Marcus and I have separate rooms. His choice, not mine." She shrugs one shoulder, the robe slipping another inch. Her hand comes up to toy with the loose sash at her waist. "But the king bed gets cold with only one person in it. I thought maybe you'd help me warm it up." She holds your gaze, her eyes soft and unblinking, waiting.