Behind me, at the summit pavilion, Elizabeth remained motionless long after my footsteps had faded into the distance.
The freezing wind continued to lash against her, pressing the thin black silk robe even tighter against her body. The plunging neckline framed the steady rise and fall of her full breasts, the faint outline of her nipples still visibly hardened, not entirely from the cold anymore.
The high slits along the sides revealed the smooth, pale skin of her long legs, and the loose silver chain at her hips swayed gently with each subtle shift of her weight.
Her face stayed perfectly emotionless, a mask of icy beauty. No flush colored her pale cheeks. No frown creased her flawless brow. Yet inside, something unfamiliar lingered.
Elizabeth slowly lowered her gaze to her own body.
One elegant hand moved downward, slipping through the high slit of the robe with mechanical precision.
