61

WILLOW

We were back from France, although I didn’t want the experience to end. I had a life back here and my duty as Luciano’s wife.

I place my hands over my lips as I think back to the last kiss we had at the top of the wheel.

I glance over at Luciano as he fixes his burgundy tie. This is the first time in months since I have seen luciano in a color other grey, black or crème.

His grey eyes falls on me and I draw in a sharp breathe because he just caught me staring up at him.

“Do I look that attractive?” His asks with a sheepish grin.

“I am just surprised to see you in color,” I say as I quickly rake my eyes across his body.

“Ashley, forced me. Claiming you would like it,” He throws a stare at me before he returns on the screen of his phone.

“I don’t know why you feel insecure when you could literally wear a wet sponge and women would still be after you like ants and sugar,” I compliment indirectly before I look away.

“Technically, that means you find me attractive?” I can hear the