Page 397 of Billionaire Temptations

“Put that down! You’re nasty.”

“You have five seconds to tell me what happened here last night and with whom. And you better not say it was with Sebastian because you specifically told me that you wouldn’t and couldn’t.”

As I cut into my bagel, I sat there with a smile on my face.

“Five…four…three…two…”

“Okay. Sebastian just happened to show up here right before my parents did, and my mom invited him to stay for dinner. They left. He stayed, and we had sex.”

Her jaw dropped as she took the seat across from me. “But?—”

“I couldn’t help it. He was so charming, sexy, and irresistible. It’s those damn brown eyes.”

She sighed as she bit into her bagel. “So now what?”

“I don’t know. I like him. I know that much.”

“Where is he? Didn’t he stay the night, or was he gone again before you woke up?”

“He left last night. He had to fly to Minneapolis this morning for a meeting.”

“Hmm. So he got what he wanted and left? Sounds like me, and that’s not a good thing.”

I shrugged. “He asked for my phone number, so I’m sure he’ll call me later.”

“Did you get his?”

“He said that I’ll have it when he calls or texts me.”

“And you don’t think that’s strange?”

“Whatever. If he wants to play games, he can. You know how I am about playing games.”

“Good girl. Keep your head held high. I have a strange feeling about Mr. Bennett.”

“What do you mean? You haven’t even met him yet.”

“I know I haven’t, but something tells me he’s a very complicated man.”

“He can be complicated all he wants. This girl won’t get tangled in his web.” I smiled as I finished off my bagel.

Climbing out of bed,I made a cup of coffee and took it into the bathroom to start getting ready for work. Today was the official opening day of the gallery. Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, I checked it to see if maybe Sebastian had sent me a text message last night. He didn’t, and a small part of me was disappointed. It had been a week since our last encounter. Shrugging it off, I finished getting ready and headed out the door.

It was a busy week and one that I welcomed. New art pieces were delivered, and displays were set up. As I was sitting at my desk researching some new ideas, my assistant, Gregory, stepped inside.

“Chloe, there’s someone here who would like to speak to you. He’s an artist.”

“Send him in.” I smiled.

Looking for new artists was the most exciting part of my job. As much as I loved historic art and artists, I also loved discovering the talents of individuals looking to break into the art world. If I could make that happen for someone, it would make me happy.

As I got up from my desk, a young man, probably early twenties with short, spikey black hair and piercings, walked in with a large black binder.

“This is Caden Rice,” Gregory said before shutting the door.

I extended my hand to Mr. Rice. “It’s nice to meet you, Caden. I’m Chloe Kane. Please have a seat.”

“Thank you, Miss Kane. It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for seeing me.”

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