"Ms. Evans? Your two o'clock appointment is here."

"Send him in, Bianca," I called out, not looking up from the blueprints spread across my desk.

"Right this way, sir," Bianca’s voice trembled slightly.

I heard the footsteps enter my office. I picked up my pen and finally looked up.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Thompson. I am—"

The words caught in my throat.

The man standing in front of my desk looked like he had just stepped off the cover of an Italian Vogue magazine. He was tall, with perfectly styled wavy brown hair, striking hazel eyes, and a sharp navy suit that fit his athletic frame perfectly, he was undeniably handsome....