The villa was silent at midnight, the only sounds were the distant murmur of the sea and the soft crackle of a single low-burning lantern in the corner of the chamber.
Jake slept deeply on the soft mattress. Right then, the doors to his chambers opened slowly. And a woman entered the chambers and walked right towards his bed. The woman's footsteps were barely audible on the plush carpet, and she stood silently at the edge of the bed, watching Jake sleep.
The lamplight painted her silver hair in soft gold as she slowly untied the sash of her robe. The silk whispered down her body and pooled at her feet, leaving her completely bare.
In her middle years, she was still beautiful in the way only a woman who had lived fully could be — full, heavy breasts with dark nipples; the soft curve of her belly; the generous flare of her hips; and the silver-threaded curls between her thighs. Age had not diminished her; it had only deepened her.
