The Billionaire's Challenge - Final Google

Now? As in…this moment? She looked down at her uniform and shook her head. “Yes! Of course.” She unbuttoned the lemon yellow smock with fumbling fingers while searching for her bag at the same time.

“Looking for this?”

She spun around and, sure enough, her pretty, leather tote was dangling from his fingers. Somehow, the bag actually looked delicately sexy there. He was all tough, strong, and raw while her bag was about as feminine as it could be without being pink and flowered.

“Yes,” she replied, clearing her throat slightly. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” He gestured towards the doorway and she smiled nervously. With any other man, she would simply follow. But in this case, she was painfully aware of him behind her. She’d worn a simple, black sheath dress today with her favorite yellow heels, the ones that matched the Rembrandt Cosmetic’s uniform perfectly. Thankfully, they gave her another three inches, additional height that she definitely needed. But her shoes suddenly seemed a bit frivolous, even though they perfectly matched the amazing necklace she’d found last week. Caressing the delicate, linked blossoms, she wondered if she looked too frivolous.

If Reid had imagined the person who had submitted the brilliant marketing suggestion, he might have pictured a woman in her fifties wearing a sleek bun at the back of her neck and dark, severe suits with bright red lipstick and a sharp look in her eye that announced she was all business. So being faced with this stunning woman, soft, silky curls cascading over slender shoulders, delicate, almost elven features, and gorgeous blue eyes, he was enchanted. Surprised, amazed, and enchanted.

“You look beautiful,” he assured her when he noticed her nervously fingering the delicate yellow necklace. The movement brought his attention to her throat and Reid wondered if she was sensitive there. Or maybe along her ear? He’d already noted that she wasn’t wearing a ring. Neither a wedding ring nor an engagement ring.

A good thing, because he was more than interested. Hell, he even liked the sexy heels she wore even though she’d probably break an, admittedly sexy, ankle if she had to sprint anywhere.

Startled, she glanced over her shoulder at him.

He put a hand to her elbow. “You were touching your necklace, and you seemed self-conscious. I like it. The necklace suits you.”

Another blush. Damn, he liked that. He suddenly realized that the women he normally dated were tall and athletic. They wore heels, but they were more severe. This woman’s shoes were…pretty. It also occurred to him that the women in his past rarely wore jewelry except for perhaps sedate, gold earrings.

This delicate butterfly was about as far as possible from the women he was normally drawn to, but he couldn’t deny the instant, clawing need to…get to know her better. In many ways, he thought, as he held the door open.

The painfully hot sunshine combined with humidity that generally hovered in the seventy percent range hit both of them like a wet blanket as they stepped out of the air-conditioned office building. Virginia in the summertime was miserable. But Northern Virginia, where most of the federal government workers lived, was especially bad because, on top of the heat and humidity, one had to deal with the traffic. In a recent report, the Washington, D.C. traffic was listed as the worst in the country, even worse than Los Angeles and New York City. Not a list one wanted to top, but the residents of this area earned it.

From June through September, the sweltering, miserable heat was more pronounced because one had to sit in almost unmoving traffic just about any time of the day or night. During the winters, God help the area if even a snowflake appeared. The drivers in this metropolitan area didn’t get enough snow to learn how to drive in it. So even the smallest of snowfalls caused traffic to snarl and numerous accidents turned highways into parking lots.

Right now, the heat was in the nineties with no end in sight. Add in the seventy-plus percentage of humidity and the air felt like it was in the triple digits. Clothes stuck to one’s back, naturally curly hair curled into tight spirals and naturally straight hair lost any sort of bounce, laying limp against one’s neck. It was miserable!

“I don’t know how you deal with summers here,” he growled, taking off his jacket after only a few steps along the sidewalk.