Project: Runaway Heiress Read Online Free PDF Page A

she should be building on that initial assessment by adding “smells really good” to the tally.
    He was a good-looking man with exceptional taste in cologne, that’s all. Lily hoped that others might consider her on the pretty side with good taste in perfume, as well. Especially after how much time she’d put into her appearance tonight.
    Nigel—her boss, her attractive and well-scented boss —returned his gaze to her face.
    “You look lovely,” he commented. “Ready to go?”
    “Yes.”
    To her surprise, he offered his arm. There was nothing romantic in the gesture, only politeness. After a short hesitation, she slipped her hand around his elbow and let him lead her down the well-lit, utilitarian hallway of the apartment building.
    Would an American man have acted so gentlemanly, or was it just Nigel’s British upbringing? Whatever the case, she liked it. Maybe a little too much.
    They walked down the three short flights of stairs rather than waiting for the elevator. Outside, the early evening air was fresh and cool, but not cold. A long, silver Bentley Mulsanne waited at the curb, and Nigel opened the rear door, holding it while she got in.
    She’d intended to slide across so he could climb in behind her, but there was a rather large console turned down between the two rear seats, as well as fold-out trays on the back of the front seats. The one on his side was down, with an open laptop resting on it.
    While she was still marveling at the awesome interior of the luxury vehicle, Nigel opened the door opposite hers and took his place, quickly closing the computer and tray.
    “Sorry about that,” he said, moving the laptop out of the way on the floor beside his briefcase.
    When she didn’t respond—she was apparently sitting there frozen, like a raccoon caught rummaging through household garbage—he returned the center console to its upright position, then leaned past her to pluck the seat belt, stretch it across her motionless form and click it into place.
    As he stretched to reach, his arm brushed her waist, terribly close to the underside of her breasts. A shiver of something very un-employee-like skated through her, warming places that had no business growing warm. She swallowed and tried to remain very still until the sensation passed.
    Nigel, of course, had no idea of the response he’d caused by such an innocent action. And with luck, he never would.
    Licking her lips, she tamped down on whatever was rolling around under her skin and made sure her lips were turned up in at least an imitation of a smile.
    “Thank you,” she said, tugging at the safety belt to show that she was, indeed, alive and well and capable of simple human functions. “It looks like you’re working overtime,” she added, relieved that her voice continued to sound steady and normal.
    He leaned back in the seat, running his hands along his thighs and letting out a breath as he relaxed a fraction. “There doesn’t seem to be overtime with this position. It’s round-the-clock.”
    Lily certainly knew what he meant by that. She’d worked twenty-four/seven to establish the Zaccaro label. Then when her sisters had joined in, the three of them had given all they had to get the company truly up and running.
    Even now that they had their boutique open and were producing items on more than a one-off basis, life was no less stressful or busy. They’d simply exchanged one set of problems for another. And having an office-slash-studio at home only kept the work closer at hand.
    “For tonight’s dinner,” Nigel began in that accent that would be charming even if the looks and personality didn’t match—at least to her unaccustomed American ears, “we’re meeting with a designer who’s looking to move from Vincenze to a higher position at Ashdown Abbey.”
    Lily’s eyes widened a second before she schooled her expression. Vincenze was a huge, multimillion-dollar design enterprise. A household name and very big deal. If she