oking at Frank and not me. I felt irritated for some reason but kept my face s

tried to adjust her height and straightened her back all the more. "You must be Jordan Gallagher?" She queried, her well-defined eyebrows arched,

everage became so strong that I felt my throat go dry. She eyed me from head to toe, seemingly assessing why I was dressed in crumpled fatigues and questioning my life choices like keep

in a manner that said don't dare ignore my han

ying that he had a spoiled little sister who started a modeling career at the tender age of six who traveled around the world in her private plane for her projects. She was the daughter whom the Yates matriarch had died giving bir

hand. I don't usually feel awkward with handshakes as I always get one with my line of work, but this time as I stared at the woman before me, I felt like turning around to find a faucet

still had not exte

t enticing glare I had ever been thrown my entire life. Her bright green eyes were captivating. They were so bright that they seemed to emanate with their own luminescence and the tiny flecks of black lines outlined her irises like a powerful aura. Her lashes were very dark and long that they looked naturally curled to perfection. Her nose was upturned, seated in

ht to business. She folded her arms across her chest, and with my eyes following her

ed men and women alike cast an admiring look at my visitor. I even saw one of the guards grin at Frank suggestively, and I felt

savored the drink. I found myself swallowing hard as I watched her slender throat glide up and down as she drank. She tosse

like a lioness, " to ask