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Chapter 3

Word Count: 1121    |    Released on: Today at 18:48

anna was puzzled by her suitc

custom design she'd commissioned herself.

urrowed. She tri

ghtened up, her eyes narrowing as she surveye

aration of war, was in the hands of a stranger. And in that same suitcase, tucked into a side pocke

as switched at the airport. Get to JFK security. I w

sed in a game on his tablet and didn't notice

took him less than twenty minutes to trace the airport taxi's destination and cro

yle. Sui

nts in that suitcase were tied to a multi-billion dollar merger. And on top of that, he had spent three months trying to secure a meeting with the elusive designer Spectre

ieve the suit

2, his face carved from stone, and kn

tle to ease the tension in her shoulders. Assuming it was room service with the champag

lled i

rld st

tly-Calhoun Richardson. Billionaire. Financier. The man who owned half of Manhattan.

ay eyes-those same gray eyes she had seen in the photograph-

saw them clea

t shade of stormy

t was a coincidence.There are too many pe

's lapels, her expression hardening in

nging to her neck and shoulders. Her skin, flushed from the heat of the shower, s

. No prickling of his skin. No visceral urge to recoil-the reaction that

t. "I asked you a ques

gray eyes sweeping over her with an intensity t

of the other bag. She moved to step aside, a cur

ball bounced out from the main room

atc

hipped around. "

incts kicked in. The boy ducked back behind the doorframe, his small face disappearing from view. Only the top of his d

lway, her bare foot catching on the edge of the rug. She lost her

her robe c

t out, his hands finding her waist, pu

ainst his hard chest. The robe gaped open, revealing the swell of her breasts and the s

ck, he didn't

ker of something-surprise, confusion, something deeper-in his stormy gra

to stand, yanking the robe shut, her cheeks burning.

een burned, but his eyes remained locked on her, filled

. In five years of service, he had watched Calhoun Richardson stand perfectly still while beautiful

ndering if he wa

Calhoun didn't leave. He straightened his tie, a gest

asked. It wasn't a qu

child to protect and a war to wage. This man-this billionaire, t

ess," she said, her

ng him standing in the silent, opulent

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