Reckless Hearts: A Billionaire Romance Read Online Free PDF Page B

events.
    I picked out a pair of coal-colored slacks. The ones I wore to church or to a nice restaurant. Then a nice buttondown blouse that had some frills along the seems.I couldn’t quite bring myself to wear a dress or skirt. They just weren’t me. And I wanted to look nice, but I also wanted to look like me.
    Although I have to admit that I did stand in front of my bathroom mirror for a few minutes, twisting and turning and holding my back straight or sticking my chest out, looking for the posture that up-sold whatever goods I had.
    Then I'd deflated and shook my head at the stupidity of it. I wasn't trying to get X to check me out.  Was I?
    But he looked so good in that suit , I thought as the elevator counted 38 off.
    I also copped to my nerves. And my excitement. I'll actually get to see what color his eyes are! God, it was just like junior high again and squealing delightedly with the other girls about some hot guy who sat next to you in algebra.
    The elevator slowed to a halt and my stomach caught up with the rest of me. Actually it came on a little fast and I swallowed back down against the pressure.
    A relatively plain reception area greeted me. Though I think maybe understated described it better. Grey walls bordering on beige. Greige? Three pairs of well-appointed chairs near the walls, each with a small, circular table.
    In fact, the only thing on the wall was the Utopia Incorporated logo above the secretary's tall desk. The logo was the 8 on its side infinity symbol with a capitol U over it.
    "Miss Chambers? Just on time. If you go through the door to your left that will take you to his office," the secretary said. She was a pretty blonde with her hair pulled back into a high bun that showed her feline cheekbones.
    If she thought anything about my choice of clothes she said nothing. This got to me more than it should have. I wondered if maybe I should have gone with a skirt and blouse combo. That maybe I should have put all that aside and dressed more feminine instead of just nicer.
    I noted how she just said 'he' or 'his.' Plain pronouns. No name. Not even 'Mr. X.' Who was this guy?
    I took the door to the left, pushing it open and finding myself in a short hallway, the walls the same greige as the reception room. At the end stood a door with no window.
    Before I could psych myself out I went and pushed the door open.
    "Hello, Allison."
    "Hi," I said, still standing in the threshold. I couldn't quite bring myself to step inside. Like I was a vampire, needing an invitation to set foot in a private space.
    He noticed my hesitation and stepped up from his desk, walking over to me. "Come in, please. You don't mind if I call you Allison, do you?" he offered his hand.
    He was tall. I figured that he might be. But standing in the back row of the amphitheater and looking down at him had screwed with my perspective.
    And his eyes were brown. A deep color like a nice wood stain. They contrasted heavily with the crystalline white around each iris.
    For some reason I'd been expecting to look up into cold blue orbs, as melodramatic as that sounds. But his eyes could even be called warm.
    I chalked this next bit up to my nerves, trying to sound sarcastic and friendly but fearing that I actually came off bitchy instead.
    "Only if you don't mind if I call you George," I said, telling my hormones to leave me alone.
    The corner of his mouth twitched. "George isn't my name."
    "Neither is, 'Mr. X.'"
    He regarded me in that curious way again. That appraising look on his face. The strange thought rose into my mind that this man could see right through me, right into me.
    I found this incredibly frustrating because he was as opaque to me now, even this close, as frosted glass. You could see the shape of something within, but only that blurred outline.
    I got the impression that he was supremely calm and collected. Of course, why wouldn't he be? He probably dealt with high-stakes business decisions every day, faced down an