Free The Boss (A Billionaire Romance) by Naomi Adams Page B

their generosity." Earlier that day, Anon sent her an Andy Warhol piece to auction off, along with various other artifacts and treasures. "Art's a big seller."
    "Art? I'm sure it's you who inspire their generosity."
    "And the cause, of course." Clara said, grabbing her purse from the counter. "People want to help people; it's human nature."
    "You're right." He took her hand in his and beamed, "I didn't mean anything by it. But you are inspirational."
    "Thanks." She poked him in the chest, bashful. "It's just, knowing good people are out there makes living in this world worth the hard times, don't you think?"
    One eyebrow reaching for the stars, he pulled her into his arms, "What kind of hard are we talking about here?"
    She felt his cock against her tummy, "Hey," she said, reaching down to make sure he was still tucked neatly behind fabric. They sniggered together as she stepped back, smoothing down her dress. "You're a little fresh this end of the date."
    "Fresh?" He winked, "Oh, I'll get a lot fresher given the chance. I missed you."
    "You have?" she blushed and kissed his cheek, excited, increasingly enamored with this man. "You big softie, you."
    "Nothing soft about me." He winked, teasingly. "Not when I'm standing this close to you anyhow."
    In fact, there was only one problem with Fredrick.
    No matter how much she tried to ignore it, she couldn't understand how he could afford his lifestyle.
    It just didn’t make sense.
    Posh restaurants in New York don't come cheap, and fire fighters didn't earn enough as far as she could see.
    This could be a problem so she resigned herself to asking him about how he tops up his income at some point during their date.
     
     
     
     

Chapter 2
     
     
     
     
     
     

 
     
     
     
    They arrived at Del Posto on 10th Avenue, and once again, Clara was amazed by his choice of restaurant.
    The place was romantic and busy, and the menu was seriously pricey.
    She peered across the table, searching his bold smile for a sign that this was the right time to ask, "This is a great place, Fredrick. You must allow me to pick up the check this time."
    "No, no," he shook his head, raising his hand. "I'm a little traditional when it comes to this kind of thing. Humor me, let me pay?"
    "It's too expensive in here, have you seen the menu? And you spent a bomb last time we were together."
    "I wouldn't book to eat somewhere without researching how good the food was. Unfortunately, good food comes at a price. You deserve the best, beautiful."
    I also deserve the truth.
    Okay, here goes…
    "Are you sure you can afford it, though? I mean, jeez. You should give lessons on making your fire fighter's paycheck stretch so far."
    "My what?" He appeared baffled, which confused her. "Oh, I get you. Thing is, I inherited some money from my father five years ago. The interest alone helps with luxuries. It's about all he ever gave me."
    "Ah . . . " Inheritance from the capitalist absent father? Didn't hate you so much after all? "Oh, you never said, but of course, why should you? Sorry, non of my business."
    Fredrick shrugged, but never said anything else, and seemed to avoid looking at her directly by grabbing the menu and staring down at it. "What do you fancy? The lobster is excellent."
    "I'm thinking steak." Clara didn't even look at the menu, watching him instead. She should quit prying, but his reaction only doubled her suspicion, "You never said what kind of business robbed you of his attentions. Was it banking, marketing, retail?"
    Fredrick groaned and actually cringed, still staring down at his menu.
    Then he fired his stare toward Clara and inhaled deeply, "Okay Clara. I don't want to lie to you about anything and since you asked me outright, I guess it's time to confess . . . "
    Confess?
    Oh shit.
    "What is it? You're scaring me?"
    And he was.
    Was he about to ruin the wonderful beginnings of something special between them?
    Did she want to know?
    "You . . . won't like the truth, but please try to