Bound to Her: Three Dates With a Billionaire Read Online Free Page A

sliding from orgasm to slumber before I withdrew and left the bed to flush the condom away and wash my hands.
    When I came back she was lying on her back, the T-shirt already tugged down over her thighs, the sheet crumpled and pushed aside.
    I sat and watched her breathe, her breasts moving, before I got the courage to put my pajama bottoms and T-shirt back on and climb into bed, persuading her back on to her side so I could put my arms around her without fear of her touching me.
    It wasn’t for me I did that, but for her.
    This couldn’t last. I knew that even as I tried to get used to the crazy sensation of having a woman sleeping in my bed again after so many years.
    No, it couldn’t last.
    Could it?

Chapter Two
    C assie
    Over the course of seven days Troy and I saw each other perhaps twice. But we texted every day. He was witty, funny and utterly gorgeous, and I loved his messages. I’d accepted his apology. What else could I do? I was putty in his hands. I’d never known anybody like him. Even with his phobia about being touched during sex, I could cope. And that made much more sense to me. At first I’d thought he had a kink and wanted to play. I’d have carried on thinking that way, but he chose to trust me with his weakness, and that meant so much more to me.
    I went into work as usual, collected my tray of tesserae and carried on painstakingly constructing my part of the Roman pavement, in the roped-off part of the gallery. I loved this work.
    I was only doing part of the pavement. Normally they wouldn’t allow interns to do it, but I was qualified and experienced, having worked on archaeological digs in the past. And, of course, I was cheap. This was one of the largest pavements the museum possessed, and they’d made the most of it, inviting the public to see the museum staff at work. At the moment a group of schoolgirls were standing behind the rope,
    My phone chimed. I leaned back on my heels and pulled it out of my pocket. Give up waitressing, it said.
    I texted back. No.
    Come to my place tonight.
    I can’t, I’m working.
    Troy was in New York while he was appearing in a play, Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra. Unusually for Broadway, they were having a bare two weeks of previews before opening. That was because the costar, Sonia Riley, was booked for years ahead, so the management wanted to make the most of her. I couldn’t wait to see him onstage. Or anywhere, come to that. I hadn’t seen him for days.
    Our hot and heavy affair was turning into an on-off thing, with Troy calling me when he could spare an hour or two. I wanted him as much as ever, but he seemed distracted when we met. Understandable, but I’d have liked a bit more of an idea of what he wanted.
    I guess that was my insecurity talking. I should just be thankful I was sleeping with one of the hottest actors around, and enjoy it while I had it. Troy was only in New York for six months, and he didn’t strike me as the kind of guy who could do a long-distance romance.
    I was getting antsy, I couldn’t deny that. And we hadn’t talked about the thousand dollars he’d left me as a “tip” on our first night together. I’d taken it, and thanks to that money my immediate loan worries were allayed. I still felt guilty about it, though. I shouldn’t have taken it, but I was desperate.
    My phone pinged again. I’m busy tomorrow night.
    I know that. I’d have gone to see him, but Broadway previews were out of my budget. Practically everything except eating and paying my rent was out of my budget. When I went to Troy’s, he fed me. We usually ordered in.
    “Where would this pavement have been situated?” someone called out from the rope.
    I turned, my professional smile pasted in place. “We’re not completely sure, but we think it was probably the dining room. See that fruit?” I waved toward another part of the pavement. The girls behind the barrier, resplendent in their plaid skirts, turned and looked. The ones who