Read The Billionaires Mistress for Free Online Page B

into the fridge for milk so that he would not see the strange expression on her face.
     
    “Sounds like it would work”.
     
    She had said, her voice shaking slightly.
     
    “Except for one thing........I know that you most likely hear this a lot..........but I honestly do not have a thing to wear”.
     
    She had heard the laugh behind her, as Ryan had nodded.
     
    “Yep, I have heard that line a couple of times”.
     
    He had mocked, before looking her up and down, seeing the flushed look on her lovely features.
     
    “However, I know somebody who can fix that”.
     
    Pulling out his phone he had punched in a few numbers before talking to somebody over the phone. As she had listened in disbelief, she had heard him arrange for somebody to come to the house the following day to fit her out for a dress.
     
    “Ryan, I ...I can’t let you do that”.
     
    She had said uncomfortably, only imagining how expensive such a dress would be. However, he had waved her comment away, smiling softly.
     
    “It is about time that you got to have some fun Jenna, you have done so much for us........it is only a small thing so you can’t stop me”.
     
    Despite her continued protestation, he had moved to the lift, picking up his briefcase, smiling that wonderful smile of his as he had wished her a good day before disappearing into it.
     
    The following day Pierre Laront had appeared at the penthouse, Jenna totally shell-shocked that the famous designer himself had come to fit her for a dress. He had looked over Jenna, raising his finger as she had tried to tell him how much she loved his clothes, although she noted a small smile had appeared on his face. Going silent, she had done as she was directed, turning when he requested it and raising her arms when told to. Finally as though he had all the information he needed, he had stood back.
     
    “Bien!”
     
    He had cried, “yes you will look glorious in one of my creations”.
     
    He had then stood back and snapped his finger, his assistant opening a large trunk they had brought with them.
     
    “The blue dress” he had barked out, his assistant quickly producing the most wonderful dress Jenna had ever seen.
     
    “Please put it on”.
     
    He had said, Jenna wordlessly moving to her room to put on the wonderful cocktail dress. It had fitted her perfectly, showing her curves off to their best as it had pulled her cleavage up making Jenna blush with just how sensual she looked.
     
    As she had moved out to Pierre and his assistant, he had clasped his hands to his chest, smiling widely.
     
    “Yes...yes.....it compliments your colouring perfectly......as I knew it would”. Snapping his fingers once more he had demanded shoes. His assistant quickly handing over a fragile looking set of heels.
     
    Jenna had slipped them on, wincing slightly as she had put on the shoe with her bad ankle, grimacing before she had looked at Pierre questioningly.
     
    “How did you know my size and shoe size?” she had asked in surprise. He had smiled.
     
    “Mr Trudeau informed me, he has a talent for telling a ladies size “.
     
    Jenna had given a weak smile.
     
    “Of course he does” she had finally managed, before hanging up the wonderful dress.
     
    For the next few days Jenna had felt the excitement rising within her, not at the thought of the video but at the ball with Ryan, the thought of spending so much time alone with him filling her with so much expectancy. When the day had finally arrived, she had been surprised to find that Ryan had organised for her to be pampered at one of the best boutiques in the city, before having her hair set in one of the most exclusive salons.
     
    She had not seen him during the day, only hearing him calling quickly out to her the time they were expected to leave, as he had moved from the elevator to his room, Jenna in hers fixing her makeup.
     
    As she had again slipped on the dress she had looked at herself in the mirror, whistling softly before