Page 42 of The Billionaire's Beauty

“Come later, then,” I said immediately.

Another hesitation. Another regretful smile.

“Be careful, boss. You don’t want your assistant falling in love with you, do you?”

Yes! I do! That sounds like a slice of heaven to me!

Luckily, she leaned in and gave me a tender kiss to cap off the weekend. Then she got out and disappeared into her apartment building, consigning me to a night without her that was every bit as long and miserable as I’d feared it would be. Worse, she left me to realize that we hadn’t even discussed how we’re going to proceed from now until the end of the summer.

Am I an idiot, or what? And what about—

My phone buzzes next to my legal pad, jarring me out of my thoughts. I stop scribbling, spare a quick glance at the lawyer—Jesus Christ; still droning—and check the display.

It’s a headless selfie of a woman showering, with heavy emphasis on her pale breasts, jutting pink nipples and the hand between her legs.

I sigh and give the photo a dispassionate once-over. It’s a nice shot and a great body, but only one woman sends me these shower selfies, and it ain’t Bellamy.

Sure enough, there’s a text to go with it. From Claire, an investment banker I hook up with a couple of times a month or so.

Thinking about you. I’m in the neighborhood. Coffee?

Can’t,I type without regret, glad I have a ready excuse. Claire and I have always been heavy on the fucking but light on the talking. Even if I weren’t drowning in all things Bellamy right now, grabbing coffee with Claire would be exactly as exciting as the meeting I’m currently suffering through. Stuck in a meeting.

She responds immediately.

Alas! Can’t wait till Friday night. We still on?

I frown down at my phone. Friday night? Am I forgetting something? And then it hits me. We’re supposed to hook up at my place Friday night. We scheduled it a few weeks back because we’re always so busy. I promised her lobster and champagne. She promised me Agent Provocateur lingerie and a blow job.

I hesitate, choosing my words carefully.

Sorry. Can’t Friday. I was going to text you. Something’s come up. Let me get back to you.

I hit send, pleased that I’ve managed to sound sufficiently vague and neutral. Until her response arrives.

Who is she? Her pussy can’t be as hot as mine.

Good old Claire. Subtle as always.

Take care of yourself, I tell her, then turn my phone off and wonder how much more suffering I’ll have to endure before the morning ends.

Luckily, the meeting seems to be breaking up.

“I’ll know more tomorrow after I make some calls,” the lawyer says. “I’ll keep you posted.”

A murmur of relief ripples around the table as we all stand and stretch. The lawyers file out, taking their never-ending opinion letters and memos with them. Damon, meanwhile,wastes no time hurrying over to give me shit.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were looking for someone,” he says with that familiar brotherly malice in his eyes. “Coincidentally, I noticed that Bellamy isn’t here yet. Missing her, are you?”

“Not sure what you’re talking about,” I say, willing my cheeks not to burn as I grab my coffee and head for the door. “She’ll be here in a minute.”

“I’m talking about that shit-eating look on your face,” he says with a grin of delight. “Look at you. You look all happy and glowy. Got you wrapped around that pussy already?”

Yes. Yes, she does.

“Shut the fuck up,” I tell Damon with a warning glance at Ryker to make sure he doesn’t get any cute ideas about joining in the fun. “Watch your mouth about Bellamy.”

“Whoa,” Damon says. My brothers exchange looks of poorly concealed glee. “This is worse than we thought.”

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