Taming The Bad Boy Billionaire Box Set 1 (Taming The Bad Boy Billionaire 1-3)

There was that doting look again. I’d seen it so many times. But why the fuck was he using it on me? Had it really been so long since Gemma? Or Anya? Or whoever came next?

“I think...” I stepped forward, laying a hand on the display case to steady myself. Two glasses of champagne? Hadn’t I said the limit was one? My eyes widened as I saw the price. “I think they’re two thousand dollars!”

Nick blinked. Not at all following. When I stayed incredulously quiet, he asked again.

“Yeah—but about the shoes? What do you think about the shoes? Do you like them?”

“Have you completely lost your mind?”

He paused. Then smiled.

“That’s a yes.”

And just like that—he was off. Both the shoes and the purse draped over his arm.

Come out with me, he said. I just want to apologize, he said.

THE MAN HAD GONE ROGUE!

“Nicholas!” I hissed, as he circled back to the lingerie.

There were quiet snickers coming from the saleswomen gathered behind the desk. No doubt they thought we were having some sort of lover’s quarrel. The only thing that confused them was why I would be here in person. Nick usually shopped for his women alone. And his women certainly wouldn’t have put up a fuss about the things he was choosing.

“How about this?”

I stopped dead in my tracks, as he held up an ensemble so sparse and sexually inviting, that I literally glanced around for the hidden cameras. Surely this was a joke, right?

“I’m sure Anya, or Claudia, or Sophia, or Olivia would all love it.” My cheeks flushed as the saleswomen giggled even louder. “Put it the fuck down, Nick.”

But Nick was his father’s son, whether he liked it or not. He was born to take the things he wanted. He was born to do this at all costs.

Rule number one: never admit guilt.

“This?” He jiggled the hanger with a little smile. “This is not my fault.”

“Oh really.” I crossed my arms over my chest. I couldn’t wait to hear how he tried to get out of this one. “And how do you figure?”

His handsome face shone with self-righteousness.

“You were the one who picked that terrible bag.”

“Purse,” I corrected, rubbing my temples.

“That terrible bag which couldn’t be more than twenty bucks—tops.”

Twenty bucks?!

“Nick—it is several hundred dollars.” I couldn’t have stressed the word more. “That’s why I picked it. We agreed this was supposed to be price comparable, right?”

He nodded curtly.

“That’s what I’m doing. Honoring our professional arrangement.”

A sarcastic bout of laughter burst out of me, as I gestured to the lingerie.

“And what about that is possibly professional?”

Both of our eyes swept over the laced bra, for a moment. The black satin straps that hung down. Connecting to a thong. Connecting to a garter. Connecting to something else that...well honestly, I’m not even sure what it was. At some point, it could have been footies.