His Secret Muse: An Alpha Billionaire Romance by Linnea May Read Free Book Online Page A

is, announcing myself as a puppeteer just came to my mind because I was thinking of our conversation.
    “I don’t think I can teach you much, though,” I say with a low voice. “You’re a much better puppet master than me, aren’t you?”
    I have to admit, it has been a while since I last flirted. Hence, my more than clumsy attempts.
    He is polite enough to grant me with a light chuckle.
    “Who was that woman?” I ask.
    “My personal assistant,” he explains. “You could have told her the truth. But I like how serious you are taking my order. Very promising.”
    Promising? I frown, unbeknownst to him. But before I can ask what he means by that, he moves on.
    “So, will I have the honor of seeing you again?”
    “Yes,” I respond. “I think I would like that.”
    “That is as much enthusiasm as I can hope to get,” he says.
    “I’m sorry, I wasn’t-“
    “How about tonight?" he interrupts me. “It doesn’t seem like you have any plans.”
    That sounds kind of sad, but it is true.
    “What do you have in mind?” I ask.
     

Chapter Nine
     
    He suggests an odd place for his meeting. A rather cheap diner not far away from the venue where his reading took place. When I show signs of wariness, he is fast to reassure me.
    "It's just a precaution," he says. "Right now hardly anyone knows that I am back in town. I would like to keep it that way."
    "And that diner is your safe place?" I joke.
    "No one suspects me there," he says. "They usually check other places. Luckily, my face is not that well known to the public. Especially in places like that."
    I wonder who ' they ' were, but didn't bother to ask. He has only given me an hour to get ready and get to the place, so even when we were still talking on the phone, my head was already half way elsewhere. Mentally digging through my closet, to decide what I was going to wear. At least it didn't have to be fancy because I don't think I own anything that would have been suitable for a five-star place.
    But I want to feel good about myself. I have never been good at "girling myself up" as Lesley puts it. Always in jeans and shirts, most of which are decorated with geeky motives, guaranteed to keep me single for a while.
    I do have exactly two dresses, both summer dresses that would be too cold for the current temperature.
    My efforts to make myself presentable for him end up in me sitting in a pile of clothing, sighing with desperation. Now I remember why it has been ages since I bothered to date someone.
    So much time and effort spent for what?
    This man . My heart flutters at the thought of him. Yes, he might actually be worth it.
    When I walk out the door to meet him, I am wearing a short black skirt and a sleeveless shirt beneath my coat. One of my favorite outfits and one that makes me feel pretty without being too much over the top.
    I am not good with make-up and only apply very little for occasions such as this. For daily life, especially for work, I just don't see the point. Plus, I lack the skills to paint my face in a beautiful fashion within less than half an hour - and without creating a giant mess, accompanied by angry cursing at my inability to do something that appears to be the most natural thing for most women.
    I don't see him anywhere when I arrive. He told me to take a seat if I were to arrive first. So I do.
    I sit down in the last free booth by myself and wait, trying to calm my nerves.
    Less than a few moments pass before someone approaches my table. It's neither a waitress nor is it him. Instead, a broad guy in a dark shirt and dark pants stops next to me. He is wearing sunglasses, which I cannot help but remark by raising one eyebrow.
    He looks down at me but doesn't bother to take off those silly sunglasses.
    "Miss, would you please come with me," he simply says.
    Then I recognize him. He is one of the bodyguards who stood in front of Cedric's room after the event last week.
    I frown up at him. "Excuse me?"
    "You are waiting for Mr. Crow,"