Bound To Him: Three Dates with a Billionaire by Emma Lyn Wild Page A

if the lifeline between us was broken. I am so stupid sometimes, I make myself cringe.
    “I’m sorry,” I mumbled, but I didn’t lift my head.
    It was the eyes. I knew those eyes, and once I’d got them, I got the rest of him. Hollywood bad boy Troy Cooper, in the news for all the wrong reasons, had touched me. Everybody knew Troy, from his start as a child star to the total hottie he was now. His current hit was playing in the cinemas, and my roomie was still sighing over it. He played Foxman in the latest superhero movie, but he’d died at the end. The media said they’d killed him off because his private life was getting more headlines than the parts he played. Movie fans were still bewailing the loss all over social media. Nobody really knew if Foxman would come back from the dead, or if he did, that Troy Cooper would be playing him.
    Now here he was, looking very alive, standing in front of me. Smelling gorgeous, like only wealthy people could. I bet he had that cologne made for him. How could he have blown everything so spectacularly? His latest scandal had sent him here, to New York, trying to redeem himself by playing Antony in Shakespeare’s play.
    “Why are you here?” I blurted out.
    “I’m opening in Antony and Cleopatra soon,” he said. His voice rumbled through me and I could easily imagine the power of it booming over a packed theater. “I’m looking at the Roman side. We’re doing this in togas, so I need to get with the program. I heard you had a special pavement.” I flicked a glance at the closed door. We weren’t opening that part just yet.
    “Plus, Mr. Cooper has kindly agreed to speak at the gala on Wednesday night,” Steve added.
    A fundraiser I wouldn’t be attending. Only the wealthiest people and their dates would be there, despite us grunts having done all the work. As long as they raised the money to finish this project, I wouldn’t mind. The pavement had been in storage for years. The room was finally going on display. If I could pick up all the pieces I’d just dropped, of course.
    I bent to pick up the tesserae, feeling stupid as they watched me. Steven told Troy Cooper all about the pavement and the room, the work we’d done and tried to kid ourselves about. We said it didn’t matter that somebody else got the credit, that all that mattered was the work, but we were definitely lying. I’d have loved to see my name on the plaque that would explain the room to visitors in the future.
    This end of the gallery was roped off, so after making sure I’d found all the pieces, I wiped my hand on my jeans and stepped over the rope, stumbling a little but recovering my balance. I took the tray back downstairs to lock up. Tomorrow I’d have to sort it again. If I was still here.
    Steve smiled at Troy. “Shall we go through?”
    Troy flicked a glance at me. “I don’t want to take up any more of your time. Can Ms-er- show me?”
    Steve glared at me, but since Troy’s father was a big donor to the restoration of both pavements, there was little he could do. “I set aside some time to show you these.”
    “Nevertheless, I don’t want to keep you. I’m sure she can answer any questions I have. You’ve explained it all very well.”
    Steve’s chest moved in a heavy sigh. He grimaced. “Very well.” He deigned me with a glance, his pale blue eyes boring into me. “Come to my office when you’ve done. Make sure you look after Mr. Cooper.”
    I nodded, then switched on a smile for Troy. It wasn’t difficult. “Shall we?”
    Reluctantly, Steve handed me the key for the private room. “Lock up when you’ve done.”
    I took the tesserae with me. Visitors to the museum would grab them all as souvenirs if I left them. Sighing, Steve held out his hand and I put the tray in it.
    He beamed at Troy. “Once you’ve done here, I would be delighted to show you the rest of the museum.”
    Troy gave him a tight-lipped smile in return. “I can find my own way out. I’ll see you