Free The Billionaire Submissive (Billionaires in Bondage) by Joely Sue Burkhart

vigilant tonight, then.”
    He was of the mind that a man paying to have the Mistress’s company would be more respectful than any Joe Blow off the street for fear she’d decide he wasn’t worth the time. She couldn’t argue with his logic; her subs were always extremely respectful even when they weren’t playing a scene. “I’m curious to see what you think of him. He’s not my normal type.”
    “Hmmm.” Dmitri winked. “I can’t wait to meet him then.”
    A commotion drew her attention to the front of the restaurant. Some of the waitstaff had gathered at the windows and were whispering excitedly. She sighed. “He’s here.”
    “How do you know?”
    One of the young waitresses squealed. “A limo! Wow, I’ve never seen one so long. Who is it?”
    Arching a brow, Dmitri started over to gawk too, but Lilly grabbed his arm and pulled him to the side. “Hold on a moment,” she whispered. “I want to see him in action.” At Dmitri’s confused look, she explained. “He’s used to being king of the hill. He’s certainly not used to coming in where everything has already been managed and decided for him. I just want to see what he does.”
    “But he’s not a client.”
    “Nope.” She smiled. “I’m working for him to do a magnificent stained glass commission, though.”
    “Interesting. I hope he’s paying you a lot because I have a feeling you’re going to be banging your head against the wall if he’s used to bossing everyone around.”
    She sighed ruefully. “You have no idea.”
    They edged closer to the foyer while lingering out of sight. Mr. Morgan strode into the restaurant like the aforementioned king in a perfect black suit that managed to be both simple and sumptuous at the same time, the kind of tailoring that cost a mint. The only thing odd was he didn’t wear any sort of tie and he’d left the top of his shirt open. Strangely informal for such a very formal man.
    One of the watching waitresses gasped and someone broke into applause.
    He didn’t even spare them a glance.
    “Good evening, sir,” the maitre d’ welcomed him. “How can we help you this evening?”
    “Your best table in the house please.”
    The maitre d’ looked like he was going to burst into tears. “I’m terribly sorry, sir, but our best table has already been reserved for the entire evening.”
    Actually, Lilly had the table reserved every single Friday evening since Dmitri’s opened, and it wasn’t unusual for her to come in at least once midweek. Okay, maybe two or even three times. When faced with her own mediocre cooking, it was much more tempting to stop by her old friend’s for a delicious reprieve.
    Mr. Morgan radiated displeasure, though he didn’t outright scowl. Luckily he didn’t attack the poor man, either, which raised him in both hers and Dmitri’s eyes. Neither one of them had much patience or respect for people who treated those lower than them like trash. “That’s…disappointing. I want this evening to be especially nice. I’m meeting a lady here and everything must be perfect.”
    “We have several beautiful tables, sir, and I assure you everything will be perfect for your lady. Perhaps she’s already here? Might I have her name?”
    She squeezed Dmitri’s arm and led him into the foyer. “I’m here, Mr. Morgan.”
    He turned toward her, a smile beginning to curve his lips. She watched his gaze slide down her body to land on the shoes he’d asked her to wear and his eyes blazed with heat. Inch by inch, he worked his way back up. His face transformed from determined politeness to appreciation to heat to downright hunger. But then he noticed the man with her, and the reserved business mask slipped back into place.
    “Miss Harrison, you’re early,” he chided, even while taking her hand and bowing over it to kiss her knuckles. One of the waitresses pretended to swoon. “I wanted to make all the arrangements for you.”
    “All the arrangements have already been made, Mr.