Elise Moreau stood on Silverhaven’s cliffside promenade, the ocean’s whispers mingling with the scent of her latest perfume, Lune Noire. At thirty, she’d escaped her ex-fiancé, Marcus, whose possessiveness had stifled her creativity. Her boutique, Scent of Dusk, opened tomorrow, a testament to her reclaimed freedom. The moon hung low, casting silver light over her silk dress, its neckline dipping to reveal the curve of her breasts, her auburn hair loose in the breeze.

“Careful, the cliffs are steep,” a voice rumbled, low and warm, like aged whiskey. She turned to see a man approaching, his silhouette carved against the moonlight. Tall, with dark hair falling over piercing blue eyes, he wore a silk shirt, unbuttoned to reveal a sculpted chest glistening with sea mist. He held a stray bottle of her perfume, dropped in her distraction.

“I’m Elise,” she said, her voice steady despite the heat his gaze ignited. “Thanks for the save.”

“Julian,” he replied, his smile slow and sinful, eyes tracing her lips. “This scent—it’s yours, isn’t it? Bold. Intoxicating.”

Her pulse quickened, his words a caress. “It’s my work,” she said, stepping closer, the air sparking. “I’m opening a boutique tomorrow.”

“I’ll be there,” he promised, handing her the bottle, his fingers brushing hers, sending a jolt through her core. “A woman who crafts desire like this deserves an audience.”

Her laugh was soft, but her body hummed, craving his nearness. “Careful,” she teased, her voice husky. “You might get more than you bargained for.”

“I’m counting on it,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on her lips, close enough to kiss. He stepped back, leaving her breathless, her skin tingling with unspoken promises.

That night, in her atelier, Elise blended fragrances, Julian’s face haunting every note. Her hands trembled as she mixed rose and amber, her body alive with a hunger she hadn’t felt in years. As she locked up, a shadow moved across the street—a man watching, his face hidden. Her heart skipped. Was it Marcus, or just her imagination?

Scent of Dusk glowed with candlelight, its shelves lined with Elise’s perfumes, the air heavy with jasmine and musk. The opening night drew Silverhaven’s elite, but Elise’s focus was elsewhere—Julian Voss, who arrived in a tailored jacket, his blue eyes locking onto her across the room. Her emerald gown hugged her curves, its slit revealing a glimpse of thigh, and his gaze made her feel bare, desired.

“You kept your promise,” she said, offering him a glass of champagne, her voice low, teasing.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he replied, his fingers grazing hers as he took the glass, the touch igniting sparks. “This place—it’s you. Sensual. Unforgettable.”

Her breath hitched, his words sinking into her skin. “Care to test that theory?” she asked, leading him to a private alcove where her newest scent waited. She dabbed Lune Noire on her wrist, offering it to him. “What do you think?”

He leaned in, his lips hovering over her pulse, inhaling deeply. “It’s fire,” he murmured, his breath hot, eyes dark with want. “Like you.”

The alcove felt smaller, the air charged. “Dangerous words,” she whispered, her body leaning toward him, craving his heat. His hand slid to her waist, pulling her close, and their kiss was a slow burn, deepening into hunger. Her gown slipped, his fingers tracing her bare shoulder, her moans soft as he kissed down her neck.

A guest’s laughter broke the spell, and they pulled apart, breathless. “Later,” he promised, his voice rough, eyes promising more. As he mingled with the crowd, Elise’s phone buzzed—a text from an unknown number: He’s not who you think. Her heart pounded. Was Julian hiding something, or was Marcus playing games?

Chapter 1: Scent of the Night

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