Moira lounged in the chair with exquisite poise: spine straight, hands laid one over the other on the arm of the chair. "And yet you have so much business, I don't know how you fit in anything else. Stark Industries, your work as an inventor, saving the world, and still fitting in time for extravagant parties."
This would be a challenge. Part of her had feared that he'd just be an extravagant playboy, maintaining his wealth and empire through luck. The man in front of her was near impossible to read, which was a point in his favor, though it also meant that she might fail.