The same army officer from before opened the rear door. Clay handed Georgie into the backseat and ducked to follow. Hunt would be driving and he already had his instructions. Georgie fidgeted beside him and winced. “Problem?” She offered him a nose squiggle and shrug. “My feet are killing me. I don’t wear high heels for a reason.” There was his opening. “Why doesn’t your building have an elevator?” “It does. But...” Her cheeks flushed. “Claustrophobia?” Now her blush made sense because his thoughts went right back to that evening in Scottsdale, too. Red was definitely her color and he wondered if her lingerie matched her dress. He fully intended to find out. “Ah, yes. Claustrophobia and nyctophobia all in one package, tied up with a red bow.” “Go ahead. Make fun. Must be nice to be perfect.”
