The Billionaire Boss's Temptation 2: Love in Bloom: The Billionaire Boss's Temptation, #2

By Lexi Black

The last slither of setting sunlight peeks it’s head over the dark horizon as I stand in the street outside my house, setting the sky above in beautiful ripples of smokey grey, dark purple and fiery orange. It’s an enchanting sight, but I can’t seem to tear my eyes from the sleek, black Mercedes that has just pulled up in front of me.

As I gawp like an open-mouthed fool, a man steps out of the driver’s side. For a second my breath catches in my throat, thinking that it could be Logan Norse - my mesmerisingly good-looking (if undeniably impertinent and arrogant) boss. But then I catch sight of the chauffeur's cap and the double breasted, shining silver buttoned jacket, and my heart allows itself to resume its normal pace. Of course I should have known that Norse would never drive himself anywhere, let alone come and pick me up to take me to the airport personally.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lexi Black
• Release date: Aug 30, 2016
• ISBN: 9781536574166

Book preview

The Billionaire Boss's Temptation

2

Love in Bloom

Lexi Black

Copyright © 2016 by Lexi Black. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used, reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form without the prior written consent of the author.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places, incidents and events are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Table of Contents

CHAPTER ONE - First Class Travel

CHAPTER TWO - First Class Accommodation

CHAPTER THREE - First Class Shopping

CHAPTER FOUR - First Class Dining

CHAPTER FIVE - A Night to Remember

CHAPTER SIX - Back to Reality

CHAPTER ONE - First Class Travel

The last slither of setting sunlight peeks it’s head over the dark horizon as I stand in the street outside my house, setting the sky above in beautiful ripples of smokey grey, dark purple and fiery orange. It’s an enchanting sight, but I can’t seem to tear my eyes from the sleek, black Mercedes that has just pulled up in front of me.

As I gawp like an open-mouthed fool, a man steps out of the driver’s side. For a second my breath catches in my throat, thinking that it could be Logan Norse - my mesmerisingly good-looking (if undeniably impertinent and arrogant) boss. But then I catch sight of the chauffeur's cap and the double breasted, shining silver buttoned jacket, and my heart allows itself to resume its normal pace. Of course I should have known that Norse would never drive himself anywhere, let alone come and pick me up to take me to the airport personally.

Miss. Sartre? The chauffeur asks, and I nod silently. He walks over and politely takes my small travel-bag from my hands and places it into the boot, before opening the car door and gesturing for me to step inside. I balk for a second - the last time I saw a car like this I had been drunkenly spying on Logan Norse in the early hours of the morning, watching as he guided a beautiful, leggy blonde into the back of his car. The memory still makes irrational jealousy bubble away hotly in the pit of my stomach, and I can’t help but wonder if this is in fact that same Mercedes.

If you don’t mind Ma’am. The chauffeur speaks again, a slight hint of impatience in his tone as he once again gestures for me to enter the car. Mr. Norse doesn’t like to be kept waiting.

I nod silently once more and duck inside the leather-clad back seat. I don’t dare to look behind me, because I just know that my three housemates - Harvey, Gina and George - will have their faces pressed against the window, watching with wide eyes and open mouths as boring, mousy, unexciting old me is chauffeured away to Bristol airport behind tinted windows. I’m going to miss those three, but at least I’ll only be gone for a few days, and I suppose I can’t really complain about an all-expenses paid business trip to Chicago. Especially when I’m taking that trip with a mind-blowingly handsome, billionaire tycoon. I still can’t believe he actually asked me of all people to go along with him, but then again I suppose I am technically his P.A (even though he couldn’t actually remember hiring me, but he’s a busy and important man, so I assume he has a lot on his mind).

If I thought being privately chauffeured in a Mercedes was extravagant, it is nothing compared to what I’m presented with when we arrive at the airport. Instead of having to park and go through the long and arduous checking-in process with the rest of the public, I am driven straight onto the tarmac and directly up to a private jet. It’s huge, sleek white form stands out starkly against the star-studded black night sky, and I have to ask myself if I’m not in fact dreaming this whole thing. But then the chauffeur coughs impatiently and I snap back to reality, realising that he is once again holding the door open for me, this time