Grey raised an eyebrow.
Now, he could say for certain that short women were not his preference. But beautiful women—now that certainly was. Tall, short, long-legged baddies, or step-stool warriors, it didn't matter at a certain point.
The woman across from him, or maybe down below him, could only be described as beautiful. Either that or on fire.
It was hard to describe, but it felt like he was staring into the maw of the purest flame. Her eyes and hair shared the same sheen of amber that reflected the sunlight like reflective, polished copper.
"Well, damn." Grey said.
The young miss blinked, not quite understanding how that replied to her question. Then her brows turned down as though she might burst into tears.
"You're not willing to sell? I'm sorry, I was a bit hasty…"
She had forgotten that many such blueprints were the heirlooms of entire families. It wasn't her place to demand them just because she could.
