|Hair wrapped in a scented scarf, off to explore the countryside.
Green tomato leaf. One eye on the rear-view mirror of the convertible,
a playful smile on the lips. Vanilla absolute.
The red leather of the steering wheel brings a flush to the cheeks.
Myrrh resin. Beauty stretches out lazily with each passing mile.
Oil of pink pepper. An impromptu lover’s siesta in the seat of a cabriolet. Leather accord. The gentle glow of fire burning like a love potion.
Italian Leather speaks the Italian of Rome, the one murmured in the ear.