Rett
The conversation within the front office stalled as Emma stepped into view. Coming the direction of the stairs, she made her way to the doorway. As I scanned from her golden crown of hair to the toes of her shoes, I made a conscious effort not to audibly gasp at her magnificence. Emma was absolutely stunning. The light blue dress she wore highlighted her vibrant eyes and brought back memories of our first dinner. I had a brief thought about the matching blindfold.
In her hand was a small purse.
For an instant, she stood in the archway and surveyed the front office. By the way the room stilled, this could be one of those moments when the guest of honor arrived, a dignitary or a queen. That was what Emma was—a queen. My marvel wasn't brought on by doubt that she'd keep her word and
