AUTHOR'S POV
The door opened and closed, and a man in his late twenties strode inside carrying a thick folder. He paused immediately, heart thundering, legs unsteady, goosebumps crawling over his skin. It wasn't the cold, though the air conditioning bit at his arms; the true chill came from the man seated behind the desk.
He wasn't even looking at him. His attention was fixed on something lying flat on the polished surface.
The younger man swallowed hard, breath shaky as he forced his feet forward. He stopped in front of the desk, palms sweating around the folder.
"Harper Wilson," he murmured with a cold smile on his face. His eyes locked on the photo of the gorgeous woman. Raven black hair, full lips, green eyes flecked with gold, a honey skin that made his tongue water…his finger tracing the outline of her jaw, nose, lips. "She's perfect."
