Page 57 of Most Eligible Billionaire CEO

I’ll be at the Camélia café. I’ll see you there by a quarter past seven. As for the lingerie… I’ll be waiting impatiently all day knowing that underneath your suit, you’ll be wearing these. I haven’t seen you in black underwear yet. I’m getting hard just thinking about it. I’m sure you brought clothes from New York, but I took the liberty of getting you a few new pieces. Hope you like them. See you soon.

—Bryce

Amanda…

I hate having to use an alias.

I shake it off and focus on getting ready.

I apply my makeup and sleek back my hair with care. I want to embody the perfect executive assistant.

Now the fun part.

Bryce selected a black lace bra with a butterfly wing motif. Each wing covers a nipple and only when I snap the front closure can I appreciate the full effect.

Very. Sexy.

Before slipping into the suit, I check the label.,

I gasp.

Dolce & Gabbana Milano?!

Holy luxury brand.

When I slip into the perfectly tailored suit, I’m shocked at how well it fits my petite and curvaceous body.

He has me all figured out.

I’m not sure if that’s a good thing. I don’t know that much about him. Other than his sexual side, he’s a closed book.

When I walk inside the Camélia café, at ten past seven, a hostess guides me to Bryce’s table.

“Morning!” I say.

He moves his attention away from his phone.

For a long beat, his eyes run up and down the length of my body.

I can’t read his expression, and grow nervous under his inspection.

He hates the suit on me.

Jesus. What did he expect? I’m not a freaking super model.

He nods slowly. “Like I said last night, you could stop traffic. It’s a good thing I’m sitting down, or else, I would’ve landed on my ass.”

He did not just say that.

I beam.

His gaze drops to my feet. “Yellow high-heel shoes with a black suit? Sexy.”

I bought these yellow Louboutin shoes when I was out shopping for the gala. I figured since he wired so much money, I might as well grab a few extra items for future evenings with him. Or other clients.

God, I hate the thought, but that’s what I signed up for. It’s not like I’m Bryce’s twenty-four-seven escort.

“In Paris, you can be this daring,” I say, secretly proud of the effect I have on him.

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