Floral Cingarette.

The last time he saw her, at the gala a few nights back, when she leaned over his table with that same poised elegance, slipping something unseen into his drink.

And then hours later, he’d woken in disgrace, an his dragged through the media.

She was dressed in a certain liquid gold gown tonight and it was flowing like sunlight over her figure.

She laughed at something a man beside her said, then turned her head towards him and their eyes met.

Her lips curved into a ...