Free The Alpha Billionaire Club Trilogy by Alexa Wilder Page B

front of me a beautifully presented stack of the tiramisu French toast with a banana-apple compote and citrus mascarpone cream. Heaven. The scents coming off my plate were so delicious I wanted to cry with joy. Chocolate, espresso, cream, and powdered sugar scented the air. If it tasted as good as it looked and smelled, I was going to be a very happy woman. Dylan’s Limón ricotta pancakes with fig compote looked equally tempting. Reading my mind, and eyeing my French toast, he said, “I thought we could share.”
    “Works for me.” He cut a bite of pancake with his fork and brought it to my mouth. The taste of sweet lemon burst across my tongue. Withdrawing the fork from between my lips, he scooped up a bite of my French toast for himself.
    “This place is always excellent,” he said. We ate like that for the next few minutes. I fed him a bite, he did the same for me. The intimacy was new. I’d eaten breakfast with men before, but this felt like we were in our own little island, just Dylan and me, with nothing to worry about but enjoying our meal and each other.
    Our plates were empty before I knew it. Dylan sat back with his coffee, studying me. I tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear, self-conscious again. Picking up my own coffee, I said, “What?”
    “Just glad you ate all your breakfast. You’re going to need your energy today.”
    “Why? What are we doing?” I hoped we were going straight back to his penthouse where he could strip this dress off and fuck me for the rest of the day. Not that I was greedy or anything, but I only had him until Sunday. I wanted as much of Dylan as I could get.
    “We’re going shopping,” he said, drinking half of his coffee before setting the cup back in its saucer. He checked his watch and gestured to the waiter. “The shops should be opening by the time we get there.”
    “Why are we going shopping?” I asked. Hadn’t he already bought me more than I could possibly wear this weekend?
    “Because I want to take you shopping,” he said, as if that was the end of the conversation.
    Maybe to him, it was. I wasn’t exactly comfortable with the idea of Dylan taking me shopping. We’d made a deal - he would be my date, and I’d sleep with him for the weekend. At the time, it had felt like an even trade. Five orgasms later, I was pretty sure I was getting the best part of the exchange. Fantastic, mind-blowing sex with a ridiculously hot guy, and a date for the wedding from hell.
    Not to mention the money he’d already spent on the clothes he’d asked his assistant to buy. They weren’t flashy, but I knew the designers well enough to know that there was at least several thousand dollars hanging in the closet upstairs, not to mention the dress, panties and sandals I was wearing at the moment. Part of me was dying to see what his idea of going shopping was, but it felt weird. It was too much for a weekend fling.
    “I don’t need anything else. You’ve already bought me too much. We can go back to the room instead,” I said, hopefully. His smile sent a jolt of arousal straight between my legs.
    “We’ll go back to the room. Later. First, I want to go shopping.”
    “Why? Really, it’s not necessary.”
    At that, he laughed. “Of course it’s not necessary. Does it have to be necessary? Or does it offend your accountant’s heart to spend money on something you don’t strictly need?” I looked away, too embarrassed to admit he’d figured me out. He laughed again. “Get over it. We’re going shopping. Please tell me you aren’t in the wedding.”
    I shook my head. “No. Thank God. Cathie is the maid of honor and Christie has her friends as bridesmaids.”
    “Then we’re at least getting you a new dress for the wedding. And making a stop at La Perla. Or Agent Provocatuer. Maybe both. And more shoes, I think.”
    I was completely speechless. I bought my underwear from a catalogue. It was nice enough, I thought. He hadn’t seemed to mind when he’d