The Reality of You Read Online Free PDF Page B

hand, the perfectly cut nails, and pushed-back cuticles.
    Was I actually about
to touch him?
    “Reese Jordon,” he
said, stretching his hand closer.
    “Yes, I’m Naomi.” I
drew in another deep breath before I giggled. “Sorry, you startled me.” I
grasped his hand, hoping mine wasn’t sweaty.
    He gave me a quick
shake and let go of my hand. Dang. There hadn’t been enough time for me to feel
the sparks that had to have been there from his touch.
    I gestured to my
iPad. “I was just going over…reviewing the itinerary you sent.”
    Reese settled into
his seat, his expression tight and businesslike. “I sent you some other items
this morning, Ms. Porter. Go over all of those too.”  
    Ah, apparently we
were going with last names.
    He efficiently
clicked his seat belt. “There are a variety of documents including the resort
brochure. You need to familiarize yourself with the data and the information
prior to landing,” he said in a clipped tone.  
    The plane started
moving away from the gate.
    Data. Information.
Brochure. He was too close because those words floated over me as I stared at
his strong jaw, his thick, dark hair, his straight, perfectly angled nose. He
wore another expensive suit. Black this time. I caught a hint of his cologne
each time he moved. The scent smelled deep, rich, spicy, and luxurious. I tried
not to breathe it in with a noticeable whiff, but damn, the man smelled good.
Far better than anything I’d imagined in all of my daydreams.
    He kept talking
steadily, his monotone words not making much sense.
    Because I was too
giddy, too amazed, too overwhelmed that I was sitting on a plane next to the
man I’d been watching for the last seven months. He was talking to me . Sure, he assumed I was a secretary
while my head envisaged lusty, idiotic thoughts. I felt like a twelve-year-old
next to her boy crush. Inside, I was a fangirl screaming, fanning my flushed
face, and screaming again. On and on he droned, his full, lush lips moving, his
white, straight teeth—teeth I wanted to lick—peeking from behind those lips as
he talked. I had to stop my mind from imagining those lips on mine. I had to
remember Kara’s warning.
    “ They hire temps from us not only because
their own secretaries are too busy to leave, but because we always send them
the best. Do not screw up because you’re all goo-goo eyed over this guy .”
    He turned toward me.
“Do you suppose you can accomplish that by the conclusion of the flight?”
    Instead of his
profile, his entire face was turned toward me. Absolutely yummy. So yummy that
it obliviated his condescending tone.
    Do not screw this up.
    He shifted his body,
making me aware of his size. From across the lobby, I hadn’t fully noticed the
total width of his shoulders or his height. He had to be at least six-three,
and he had more of a football player’s physique than a basketball player’s.
Ironic how I continued to think in sports.
    “Well, do you?” he
asked in a demanding tone.
    “Um…” I murmured.
Oh, crap. I had no idea what he had asked. “Well, sure. Of course. No problem.”
    He nodded and sat
back. “Toward the end of the flight, we can discuss the items in detail.”
    “No problem.” My
teeth clenched. I sounded like an idiot parrot.
    His brow arched a
smidgen before he reached into his inner breast pocket, removed a newspaper,
and flicked it open. Apparently, I was dismissed.
    A sting of rejection
hit my chest.
    Just a secretary. Do not screw this up.
    The flight attendant
came over, checking our seat belts prior to takeoff.
    As the plane moved, my
entire body sizzled with tension and want. I wanted to reach out and touch him
again. See if he was real. Would my fingers brushing his arm seem that weird? Fangirl in me said, “Not weird at all! Do it! Touch him! Touch
him! Oh, please, touch!” I curled my fingers around the armrests so I
wouldn’t give in to the demand.  
    The plane took off
with the normal rush and whoosh that got my