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“We were just debating the merits of the Amalfi coast versus a private villa in Kyoto for the solstice,” Marcus said, kissing Elena’s hand.

“Thank you, Julian. And please, tell the band that if they play ‘Autumn Leaves’ one more time, I shall have to stage a polite coup,” she teased, her voice a rich contralto that carried over the soft clink of crystal. glamorus mature fuck

At sixty-two, Elena Vance knew that timing was the difference between being noticed and being remembered. She smoothed the silk of her emerald floor-length gown—a vintage piece that clung to her with the ease of a lifelong friend—and stepped into the amber glow of the lounge. “We were just debating the merits of the