Jane, or Sensual Jane as Rocco would come to call her, was a free-spirited artist with a presence that could light up a room. Her long, curly hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of night, and her eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint that left Rocco breathless.
It was a typical Wednesday evening when Jane strolled into the restaurant, looking for a place to grab a quick dinner before a gallery opening. Rocco was expediting food in the kitchen, his white apron stained with the remnants of a busy lunch service. As he watched Jane take a seat at the bar, he felt an inexplicable jolt of electricity run through his veins.
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