The scent of jasmine swept in with the night breeze and teased him with memories of the woman he loved. He was much younger back then. Dillon loved to party, and he and his close friends lived in the darkness. They traveled from one social gathering to another, only to collapse in exhaustion when daylight arrived.

They slept until dawn gave way to twilight and began anew. Another gathering at a new friend’s house. Alcohol flowed freely, and so did the drugs. Such was his life, night after night, till the scent of jasmine crashed into his world.

When the gorgeous woman entered the room, the blonde in his arms was dancing. Every male eye focused on the beauty. Green eyes, as clear as the purest Emeralds, scanned the ballroom, lighting upon one male after another, continually searching.

A strapless, tight, blood red gown revealed shoulder-length Auburn hair kissing alabaster shoulders. The dress caressed areas of her body Dillon wished his hands could. He had no clue who she was seeking, but he couldn’t stop thinking. Please pick me.

His heart stopped when her eyes met his and locked, and she glided towards him. Dillon couldn’t’ breathe as the vision made her way around dancers, continuing her trek to him. A whiff of her unique perfume muddled his brain confusing Dillon but fading when she arrived.

Her voice made him think of brandy, the taste of fire with the first sip, then becoming a warm burn as it traveled to his stomach. “Would you like to dance?” She asked, pushing the blonde out of his arms and melting against his chest.

For his life, he forgot about the blonde. All of his senses converged on the voluptuous creature in his arms. Her fragrance wrapped around him, hinting at passionate, sultry evenings of summer. His surroundings faded away until he and the woman remained.

Time stood still, and he remembered nothing, only the curves pressed tightly against his, swaying to the music. Dillon forgot where he was until she moved away from him.

“Would you mind taking me home, my sweet boy?” Dillon felt her words sink into his skin and soar through his veins like warm butter.

He heard himself say, “Of course, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you walk alone in the dark?”

She put her arm through his, and they weaved their way outside. “What’s your name?” He asked as they walked hand in hand, stopping in front of a Brickstone house.

“I’m Amelia, and this is where I live. Can I interest you in a drink?” She had asked him.

The offer surprised Dillon, as did the fact she didn’t ask his name in return. Then her alluring scent called out to him, and he answered the urge to accept Amelia’s invitation. Inside, Amelia took his hand and led Dillon to the bedroom. He felt jasmine’s siren call in his veins like fire, sending him back to the streets of London and her.

Dillon tried to dampen the need. He would give Amelia a chance he never had. “You shouldn’t invite strangers into your house. It’s not safe nowadays.”

Amelia laughed. “My sweet boy. Your concern about my safety touches me.” She said as she removed her clothes and stood naked before moving back into his arms.

He tried, he thought, before the desire to taste her overwhelmed him. He sank his teeth into Amelia’s soft neck, drinking and dreaming it was Cleo.