Marcello grabbed whatever his hands landed on tailored coats, shirts, even his gym wear without bothering to sort them. He stepped out of the walk-in closet only to find her waiting, arms flung wide and a goofy smile on her face like she was welcoming a long-lost lover.

Instead of handing the clothes over, he tossed them onto the couch. Her gaze followed the pile like a starved predator eyeing prey. It unsettled him, the way her eyes devoured the fabric as if it were something she could ...