Page 12 of The Billionaire's Secret Twins

Little comfort that is!But the voice is right, and with my heart fluttering, I make a u-turn and slowly, head back to Mr.Masters’ bedroom.Once there, I knock tentatively on the massive wooden slab.

“Mr.Masters?”I call in what I hope is a normal-sounding voice.“It’s Angela.”

“Come,” he growls.

I open the door slowly, and the sight that greets me is even more disconcerting than expected.The boss is standing in the middle of the room, huge and masculine ...and he’s not dressed.Instead, his massive form is still damp from the shower, and he’s got a white towel wrapped around his waist as he rubs at his hair with another towel.My eyes go wide at seeing those six pack abs, and my thighs squeeze together with a wobbly ache.

But Mr.Masters is totally unconcerned about his nudity.

“Hey,” he greets.“Thanks for coming so fast.”

Coming so fast?What does that mean?Is that a double entendre because he saw me in the mirror?Nonetheless, I smile weakly and nod.

“Um sure,” I say faint voice.My heart’s beating a mile a minute, and my knees are weak.But I force myself to straighten and smile.“How can I help you, Mr.Masters?”

He stops rubbing at his wet hair, and lowers his arms to shoot me a gleaming smile.

“Well, you did so great with the party last night that I thought I’d put you to work again.No rest for the weary, and all that,” he smirks.

I manage to keep my cool despite the fact that my heart’s practically jumping out of my chest now.

“It’s not a problem.I’m happy to help in whatever way I can.”

He nods, a bit distracted.

“So I have another party –” he begins.

“On it,” I say, pulling out my phone.“When, where, and how many people are you expecting?Shall I use the same caterers, or would you prefer someone different?Or if you’d like a different style of food, I can look into that as well.I hear that Scandinavian hors d'oeuvres are having a moment, and I could order some platters for your party.Mrs.Goodyear will know of a good source, or maybe she’d even make them herself.”

Dominic smirks again.

“No, I’m not hosting the event.I’mgoingto an event.”

I pause, a bit confused.

“Oh, of course,” I say, my fingers poised to take notes on my phone.“Did you need your tux pressed?Or a boutonniere?Or a corsage for your date?”

Oh my god, I sound so lame!Boutonniere?Corsage?Why am I acting like he’s going to high school prom?If the ground opened up and swallowed me right now, I’d be grateful.

But Dominic shoots me another gleaming grin.

“No, actually I was hoping thatyou’daccompany me to the event, Miss White.And if you’d like a corsage, I can certainly arrange it.”

I stare at the handsome man, my jaw practically on the ground.

“I’m sorry?”I say in a stunned tone.“What did you say?”

Dominic begins toweling his hair off again, like nothing’s the matter.

“I said that I’d like you to accompany me to the event.It’s a fundraiser for the symphony, actually, and the gala is filled with good food, good tunes and good times.”

Immediately, I begin shaking my head.

“Oh no, I couldn’t,” I say quickly.“I know nothing about classical music, and I don’t have a dress—”

“Don’t worry about your attire, Miss White,” Dominic drawls.“I can get you a dress for the event.Several, in fact, so that you can have a selection to choose from.But the gala’s this Friday, so I’m afraid there isn’t much time to prepare.So you’ll go?”

I stare at him, my mouth opening and closing silently like a gaping fish.Then, before I realize it, I speak.

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