Page 22 of Fake Dating My Billionaire Boss

Maybe once I’m at my office—with the door closed and locked—maybe I’ll finally be able to think.

Because if I stand here and watch her stretch up on her tiptoes and look out toward the woods for one more instant, I’ll lose my mind.

I keep replaying that kiss. Even now, I’m remembering the feel of her lips on mine. How, when I held her and breathed in, I could almost taste her sweet scent. What is it? Roses? Strawberries?

And the way she looked at me, after. It was like she was peering straight into the secret parts of me that no one else can see. I back away from her.

“Fine. Got it. Go,” she says, waving at me dismissively. “I should go track down Bo anyway, that goofy dog, and then put these groceries away. You can fill me in on Addison later, over dinner. What time do you want to eat? Six? Seven?”

I never agreed to dinner.

This is my home. She’s acting like it’s hers.

I glance at her again and thoughts I don’t want to think fill my mind. How incredibly soft her lips were, and how sweet they tasted. How her body felt, snug against mine. We fit perfectly together. When I had my arm wrapped around her waist and she hugged me, it was like we were two puzzle pieces, clicking into place.

I shake my head in an attempt to clear it. “I’ll be home late.”

“Seven it is. Have a lovely day at work, Huggy Bear.”

“Please don’t call me that.’

“Just practicing for my role.” She smiles at me, and that blasted dimple nestles into her cheek and fine smile-lines fan out from the outer corners of her dark eyes.

I fumble my way across the room as though she’s a fire-breathing dragon, and I’m an untrained knight without armor.

When I reach the bedroom, I lock the door behind me, but I can still hear her out there, calling for that dog of hers.

How am I going to survive this summer?

Chapter 8

Bella

How am I going to survive this summer?I wonder, as I survey the line-up of pristine new knives on display in Damian’s massive gourmet kitchen.

I am completely out of my element.

I’m used to small, tight, cozy spaces for one thing. This house is bigger than any place I’ve ever lived in.

And I’m used to having onlyoneknife to choose from when I chop garlic. What are all these knives for, anyway? There are about thirty of them, all different sizes and styles. I tug one that looks about right from the magnetic strip. It’s not only the big, strange house or all the weird, rich-person luxuries around me that are overwhelming me. It’s the fact that Damian is going to be home at any moment, and that makes a fluttery feeling stir in the pit of my stomach.

Butterflies, the devil on my shoulder says.

No.I can’t have butterflies in my stomach when I think about my boss.

I refuse.

This morning was a huge mess.

A huge, complicated, confusing mess. Living with Damian was going to be stress-inducing enough, given the stunt I’m trying to pull. Now that I know what it feels like to kiss him, the crazy mess is mountain-sized, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to clean it up.

I dice six cloves of garlic and slide the pile into the skillet on the massive, gas-burner stovetop beside me. The garlic sizzles as it mixes in with the heating olive oil and onions.

The rest of the day, after he left for work, passed in a strange blur. I felt unsettled as I familiarized myself with the guest room. It’s actually more of a guest suite than a room. There’s a galley kitchen attached, plus a massive bathroom, and even a gym complete with treadmill, rowing machine, elliptical trainer, and free weights. Apparently in billionaire-land, it’s important that guests have the opportunity to snooze, snack, shower,andworkout.

I unpacked my clothes into a low, black- lacquered dresser near the bed, stashed the groceries in the galley kitchen, and then poked around the “billiards” room next door. Damia n was right about the light . There’s an abundance of natural light, which will help me when it comes to mixing colors. Somehow, I managed to settle my nerves enough to order my canvas, stretcher frame, and paints. I also sketched for three hours straight and took Bo for a long walk in the woods. As luck would have it, there’s a little trail cut into the lush forest behind Damian’s mansion, which is convenient for dog walks.

I considered cooking this meal in the little kitchen attached to my guest room, but it didn’t make sense. Not with this giant kitchen at my disposal.

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