Page 220 of Billionaire Temptations

As the cabdriver pulled up to 425 West 50th Street, I reached into my wallet, handed him some cash, and climbed out with my purse and small bag. When I approached the door, a hot young guy, who I presumed was the doorman, held the door open for me.

“Thank you.”

“May I ask who you’re here to see?”

“Jackson Caine. He’s expecting me. He told me to take the elevator up to the top.” I smiled.

“Ah yes, Mr. Caine did say he was expecting you, Emily. You are Emily, correct?”

“Yes.” I grinned. “I’m Emily. Wouldn’t that have been awkward if I wasn’t?” I winked.

“Very awkward.” He smiled. “Enjoy your evening.”

When the elevator doors opened, I stepped into a small hallway, which forced me to turn right into the kitchen.

“Hello,” I spoke to the older man standing at the island.

“Good evening, miss.”

“Is Jackson here?”

“He told me to tell you that if he weren’t down when you arrived, he would be shortly.”

“Thank you.” I smiled.

Looking around his kitchen, it was amazing. White cabinets filled the walls with a light gray granite backsplash and matching countertops. The floor was also a light gray Italian marble that perfectly fit the décor and the high-end stainless-steel appliances.

“Welcome to my home.” Jackson smiled as he stepped into the kitchen and took my bag from me.

“Your kitchen is amazing, and I’m very jealous of your double oven.”

He let out a light chuckle. “Why?”

“Because I think they’re cool, and I always wanted one.”

“If you behave, maybe I’ll let you use it.” He winked. “Follow me, and I’ll give you a tour of the place. Maybe I have something else you can be jealous of.” He grinned.

He looked sexy as all fuck in his tan-colored khaki pants and dark blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. My lower half could barely contain the excitement.

“Here’s the living and dining area. And my office, bathroom, and guest bedroom are down that hallway over to your left.”

“Very nice,” I spoke as I looked over the space with beige walls, floor-to-ceiling windows, dark solid oak wood floors, and neutral-colored furniture made up of beige and red.

Following him up the stairs, we stepped into another living area with a wet bar, more floor-to-ceiling windows, and French double doors that led out to a huge terrace.

“Wow. " What a view,” I said as I stared into the breathtaking view of Manhattan.

“I love it out there on warm nights. It’s relaxing and a great way to unwind after a long work day.”

“I bet. I think I’m jealous of your terrace.” I laughed.

“And this is the room of all rooms.” He smirked as we stepped into his over-sized bedroom.

“I like it.” I bit my bottom lip as he set my bag down on his king-sized bed covered in a satin and ribbed-frame-patterned dark gray comforter with matching shams and decorative pillows.

“Thank you. Now that you’ve had the grand tour, how about some dinner?”

“Sounds great. I’m starving. By the way, who is that man in your kitchen?” I asked as I followed him downstairs.

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