The Billionaire’s Desires Vol. 1 by Emma M. Green Read Free Book Online Page A

goes into raptures again over my dress, which I had just bought that morning. Black, with a close fit that moulds around my body. The long-sleeve top is cut from satin with little white polka-dots that capture the light and compliment my complexion. Then the dress flares right at my hips. The thick, luxurious cotton skirt stops right above my knees. I wear it with silky stockings that have a black line tracing the curves of my calves and my little black leather ballerina slippers. A bit different from my normal wardrobe, this outfit makes me feel beautiful and confident; for once I know how to make myself look good. Marion's compliments go to my head and I pirouette around, letting her admire me from all angles.
    “I've rarely seen you dress so sexy, Amandine! Is your billionaire hanging around here?”
    Here we go again...
    “No, Ms. Detective, I just wanted to make myself feel good. And I'd really like it if you'd stop bringing him up every three minutes.”
    She moves away, grumbling, but I catch up with her and playfully jump on her, letting out a little yelp. I'm in a good mood, it's no time to get into an argument! And in response to my attempts to keep things light, she asks me if someone drugged my tea and we both start cackling like a pair of hyenas.
    Little Miss Lunatic has an urgent need to visit the washroom. I take advantage of the time to put my hair up in a quick chignon and redo some of my makeup. Then, arm in arm, we head towards the first room of the temporary exhibit. I discover the work of an Italian photographer, Mimmo Jodice, who focuses on the city. The first selection of black and white photographs leave me speechless. They show sides of Paris that I've never seen, and make me realise I'm way too comfortable in my subway-work-subway routine. A photo of Angoulême attracts my attention: I recognise the area around the train station of the little city that I've only visited once. Angoulême...the name sounds like a sweet melody to my ears. Dreamy, I don't notice the little gestures Marion is making next to me. She eventually jabs me with her elbow, startling me.
    Ladies and gentlemen, the graceful subtlety of Marion.
    “Don't look now, but there's a gorgeous guy who's been staring at you for minutes.”
    “Maybe he's checking you out, Bruce Lee!”
    My arm hurts, you brat!
    “No, no, I'm sure that he's really into you.”
    A little hurt by my martial arts comparison, she moves away towards the next room.
    And suddenly I feel it, those eyes on me, more precisely, on my neck: magnetic, electrifying, overheating. Could it be that...I don't dare turn around to look at who's watching me, so I go the other way and make my escape to the first room of the exhibit. I hear footsteps behind me, has the stranger decided to play hide and seek? I speed up, just to see, and my ballerina slippers are almost clacking on the stone cobblestones of the lobby. The footsteps behind me also accelerate. Trying to avoid a group of people on a guided tour in front of me, I suddenly turn to the left towards the lift. As I press the button I hear the deep, warm voice of Gabriel Diamonds. I'd recognise it among a crowd of a million people!
    “So it is you, I'm not dreaming.”
    His gentle murmur paralyses me and his breath on my neck sends shivers down my spine.
    Oh my god, he's really here! What do I do what do I do what do I do?!
    Trying to hide my excitement, I don't turn around.
    “So you're the sort of lady who likes photography?”
    His tone is mocking, but I also detect a touch of tenderness in his voice.
    That's new.
    The lift doors open in front of me and we enter at the same time.
    “Going up?”
    As usual, Diamonds doesn't wait for my response and we start rising upwards as he pushes the button for the second floor. A few seconds later, he presses the red button which instantly blocks the elevator from functioning. About to protest, I look up at him but my attempt to rebel goes up in smoke. Once again I'm struck by