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

weren’t on their phones, or gossiping and taking no notice of their teacher, that was. “That is probably an indication of where the pavement was set.”
    “Why can’t we go in there?” One of the girls indicated the closed door and the attendant guarding it. They’d opened the room to selected viewers now, and it was proving very popular. Not surprising, considering the contents.
    “Did you read the sign?”
    “It says adults only.” The girl rolled her eyes. “Pu-lease. This is a museum. How bad can it be?”
    I dusted my hands on my knees. “You’d be surprised.” A few girls sniggered. “Actually you might not be, but the museum has a duty to protect the young against corruption.” I got some outright laughs for that, which was why I’d said it. I grinned back. “You’ve probably seen it all before, but the museum can get into serious trouble if they let you in.”
    “Oh, so it’s worth seeing?” someone asked.
    The female teacher, a pretty woman who looked around ten years older than her pupils, tilted her head and watched me through cynical eyes. She was waiting to see how I’d handle it, but I didn’t doubt she’d break into the conversation if it went on too long.
    Another girl, sporting nails so long they could credibly be called talons, chipped in. “It’s outdated. When you can access all those sex tapes online, what makes them think we’ll faint if we see naked people?”
    “It’s more than naked people,” I said, then bit my lip. I probably shouldn’t have told them that. “Okay, so it’s legal. We’re not allowed to show you. There are similar mosaics in Pompeii.” They could look those up online.
    A ripple of understanding went through them. A few girls nodded. There were twenty of them in the gallery, most watching me reconstruct the pavement, and a few wandering around. I never went to the kind of school that insisted on plaid skirts and royal blue blazers. I was surprised that the talons were allowed. Maybe the owner’s parents were big benefactors.
    The girls were sixteen or seventeen, at Junior High. We asked for prior information of school visits, so we would be ready to talk to them and we’d had this school on our list for a year. Adults would be constantly telling them they had their whole lives ahead of them, and to work hard. I remembered so well, but in her case, if she wanted to get out of her small town, I had no choice.
    A tingle went through me as someone came through the doors of the gallery. I didn’t have to get a full view to know who it was.
    Nobody looked around at first, until one of the girls looking at the other exhibits squealed and clapped her hand to her mouth.
    I waited. Would Troy back out? I wouldn’t blame him if he did. Since he seemed intent on keeping our affair on the down low, he’d probably wait until they’d gone. Since his father was a major donor to the museum, he had a reason to be here in any case. He could use that as an excuse.
    Troy kept coming. The brave man worked his way around the crowd to the front of the rope. By then he was surrounded by the girls. They clung to him like bees around a honeypot. He glanced at me and grinned. “If I’d known you were busy, I’d have come later,” he said.
    Someone thrust a phone in front of him and snapped a quick selfie. He grabbed the phone. “Oh, I think we can do better than that,” he said.
    I watched a Hollywood star working. Troy didn’t shy from attention, and he didn’t go around surrounded by bodyguards. He’d told me he’d dismissed a few, lost some and simply told others to fuck off until his father had stopped sending them. People sometimes didn’t believe someone with his fame, not to mention his reputation, would wander around the city on his own, and he got away with a lot by claiming he was a lookalike.
    As superhero Foxman, he’d had curly, unkempt hair, but now, for his new part, his hairstyle was more severe, short at the sides and a little longer on top,