There was a muted squeak of leather as the man crouched down to look at the very young girl who sat positively stiff with terror in the corner, her jaw locked to keep from trembling. He extended one hand - clad heavily in a leather glove - and turned her cheek with one finger. Still, she didn’t look at him as he inspected her lowered lashes. “Look at me.” he commanded.She did so reluctantly, lifting her tempest-tossed eyes to his torso, noting the royal indigo color of his richly embroidered tunic and the heavy muscles that rippled beneath it. His leggings were black in color, and also equally embroidered with intricate weavings of gold thread. The leather boots that had alerted every man and woman to his presence were freshly polished, and the stitching on the thick leather was beautifully complex. Slowly, hardly daring to do so, she raised her stormy blue-gray eyes to his face. It was a broad, handsome face, with a rugged jaw line and stubble-covered cheeks. His eyes were a bright. Primikov, my name in Scott Willams, I’m the CEO of the Buccannon Agency, and I personally wanted to be the first person to greet you.” He thrust out his hand in a firm but friendly fashion, which Nikki took in the ritual welcoming motion expect- ed of her. She smiled at him, but said nothing. Scott Williams, one of the most powerful men in American business, a sophisticated man of the world, felt for a moment like the wind had been knocked out of him. All he could do was stare into the mysterious brilliant blue eyes of this wonderfully exquisite woman. Then after a moment’s pause, he realized that the other passengers where waiting for him to say something to the girl; that he was beginning to look foolish just standing there holding her hand. “Ahhh, Ms. Primikov, may I have the pleasure of escorting you to the home office, and then make arrangements for your stay with us?” Nikki looked back at the handsome older man and smiled again. He was probably.
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