Forbidden Romance Tales
He moved with the unconscious grace of someone utterly at home in his own skin, and in this fortress of wealth.
Jennifer’s breath caught. Henry had spoken of his son, of course, the prodigal playboy managing the lesser branches of the business, the one who never settled down. But the photos in Henry’s office hadn’t prepared her for the reality of him.
Six-foot-three of coiled, elegant male, hair as black as a raven’s wing, carelessly styled as if he’d just run his hands through it and his eyes were a startling, piercing green that seemed to see right through her carefully composed facade.