Leo lounged against the banister, drumming his fingers on the polished walnut.
Ivy. A name as beautiful as the woman herself. He had nearly wrecked his Stanley when he’d caught a glimpse of her shapely legs in the air as she wriggled to right herself. Even now, his blood heated at the mere memory of how warm her stocking-clad calves had been beneath his hands.
IvyHer face…something about it…Like he’d seen her before. Just when he thought he’d placed it, the memory would dissipate like morning mist. She was certainly unique, and he knew without a doubt he would not have forgotten meeting her. Her hair was a Gypsy black, rich and long. Eyes the color of cocoa. Her skin was a light olive. She had a hint of Italian in her blood or perhaps something else and it fascinated him. It also was dam
