Read Bound To Him: Three Dates with a Billionaire for Free Online

your face. Without them you’re perfectly beautiful, but I’ve never been an admirer of perfection. I prefer something quirky and unusual.”
    It was on the tip of my tongue to say that he was beautiful, but I managed to keep the sentiment to myself. Barely. “I thought women strove for perfection.”
    “Some do. Some achieve it, then spend the rest of their lives maintaining it. Do you know how many hours Willow Moncrieff spends being pampered and primped?”
    “No.” Willow’s name had been linked with Troy’s in the press. Most still expected her to turn up here in New York. She was the love interest in the superhero franchise, and the media loved a sappy story.
    “Most of the day. Before a red carpet event she can spend two days solid in the spa. Then she emerges a perfect butterfly, shows up at the event, parades her borrowed clothes and sponsored jewelry and spends the rest of the next day taking it all off.” He grinned. “Yes, we dated, but not for long. I don’t blame her. She’s not a vain woman, but she was born beautiful and she’s using it while she can, before people get sick of her. That’s the price of fame. In a couple of years she’ll be able to pull back, maybe take some real acting parts that don’t require her to look like a runway model.”
    “What do you do?” I asked. My curiosity had gotten the better of me.
    “I work out. But I’m blessed with a healthy body. I did my best to ruin it for a few years, but not nearly as much as the media makes out.” He frowned, and stroked a red line on my foot with the tip of one finger. “I guess I did it in different ways.” Gently he put my feet on the soft floor and went over to the desk with its laptop and printing machine. He opened a slim folder and pulled out a piece of paper, frowning. “This is stupid, but I promised my old man I’d do it.” He picked up a pen and brought it over to me. “Before we go any further, can you read and sign this?”
    I looked at him, then the paper, then him again. No trace of humor showed in his expression. “This is a joke, right?”
    He shook his head. “Read it.”
    This was eerily like a movie I’d seen last year. Troy hadn’t been in that one, it was some up and coming star whose name I couldn’t remember. Hell, I was lucky to remember my own name with Troy in the room. He’d made the heroine sign something, a contract, that she’d eat properly and let him control her life. The jerk. Maybe the movie had set a fashion in LA. How did I know?
    I was tempted to tear up the paper and throw it in his face, but curiosity overcame me again and I glanced down.
    A few lines met my gaze, maybe half a page. I read it through.
    It just said that anything that happened between Troy and — there was a blank space, presumably for my name — was private, and could not be revealed by either party to the media or made public in any way without the permission of the other. The penalty was five million dollars. “What...?”
    “That’s how much some outlets are willing to pay for the down and dirty secrets about me,” he said. He handed me the pen. “With this, women who invent shit can be prosecuted, too. Feel free to tell anyone who asks that we shared supper and then you went home. What happens between supper and the time you go home, and what we said in that time is nobody’s business but ours.”
    “You have to do this?”
    “No, I fucking don’t, and it’s a complete downer.” He grimaced. “But my lawyers went down on their knees to me. Although they didn’t kiss my foot.” His voice lowered, reminding me of what he’d just done. “I’m flavor of the month with the scandal-mongers and the hounds are out to get me. My father’s nearly at the never darken my doors again point. So this is easier.”
    “What happens if I don’t sign?” I asked. He was so close, he overwhelmed me.
    “I call you a cab and you go home,” he said.
    “What about the feet?”
    “That’s your bonus, and