Enigma by Shandi Boyes EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Shandi Boyes
- Language: English
- Genre: Billionaire Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 5.8 MB
- Price: Free
A frigid breeze causes the hairs on my arms to bristle and
goosebumps to form on my nape. It isn’t just the plummeting
evening temperatures causing this reaction to my body. It’s fear.
When I press my hands against the railing, I relish the coolness of the
stainless steel on my sweat-drenched palms.
Snapping my eyes shut, I take in a lung-filling gulp of air. “You can do
this, Isabelle,” I chant to myself.
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Millions of people do it every day.
I’ve spent the majority of my time today at airports. To say I’m fearful
of flying would be an understatement. I’m petrified. My flight this morning
was on a Boeing 777 from San Francisco to New York. I gripped the
armchair so tight for the entire eight-hour trip, my French-tipped nail nearly
snapped off.
There’s no logical reason for my fear of flying. I’ve never been on a
plane that plunged from the sky or lost loved ones during a disastrous flight.
My fear is just something embedded deep inside me. I want to say I’m
generally fearless, an adventurous person who regularly takes calculated
risks, but when it comes to flying, I’m a quivering bundle of nerves.
Gritting my teeth, I push off the railing before I lose my nerve and
collide straight into a wall of hardness that sends me sprawling onto my ass.
I wince in pain when my right wrist jars hard on the rigid gray marble-tiled
floor.
“I’m used to people falling at my feet, but not quite as undignified as
that,” says a deep, thick voice from above. Although his tone is stern, it also
has a hint of amusement behind it.
Mortified, I raise my eyes, drinking in black polished dress shoes, a
well-filled, impeccably tailored three-piece suit, and one pair of the most
exquisite eyes I’ve ever seen in my life. The pain zinging my wrist no
longer exists as my eyes roam over the magnificent creature in front of me.
More features come into focus—plump lips, powerful jawline, thick,
luxurious hair long enough to run your fingers through, but not too long to
be unkempt, and an ideally placed dimple in a chiseled chin. The very
definition of a man is standing in front of me, and the visual is riveting.
Shifting his head to the side, he arches a brow. He assesses me as
vigorously as I perused him. His penetrating glare has my heart rate
quickening. Now I wished I had taken my roommate’s advice and dressed
more professionally instead of for comfort, but when your backside is going
to be planted in a seat for a minimum of sixteen hours, you want it encased
in comfort, and there’s nothing more comfortable than my black Juicy
Couture sweatsuit.
No, I didn’t pay two hundred dollars for a pair of sweatpants. I found
these beauties at the thrift shop in San Francisco nearly two years ago. They
have faded a little, now more a charcoal gray than their original black, but
they still get the job done. I’ve removed my jacket and am wearing a white,
fitted cotton shirt that has risen to my stomach during my tumble.
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