Page 41 of All the Drama from New York

7.35.

That’s odd, I forgot to take my watch off last night.

He should get up, and shower. Get dressed and head into work.

Just a couple of minutes more then I’ll get up.

His eyes drifted closed once more.

When he startled awake again, he checked his watch. It said 8.20.

“Shit, I’m late! Camille’s gonna fire me.”

A peal of female laughter filled the room. “Technically you are early for work, so there is no danger of me getting rid of you. But I get your meaning.”

Across the room from him, seated at her desk was a smiling Camille. She was immaculately dressed in a navy blue power suit and a white pussy bow blouse. All of which had to be tailor made.

Of course it’s tailor made you dick, she’s from a family of billionaires. These people don’t shop at Target.

She uncrossed her long legs, and rose from the chair. The sound of her towering heels clicked across the floor as she walked. What he wouldn’t give to feel those heels digging into his back as she wrapped her legs around him while he buried his cock deep into her pussy.

As she drew closer, Ryan rallied what was left of his pathetic willpower and shoved away his dirty fantasy about a strict female boss who wanted to have a firm word with him. Thank god he hadn’t taken his pants off, he’d never get them back on.

He swallowed deep as she bent at the knee and crouched beside him. “I’ve ordered us a hot breakfast selection from the hotel. It should be here just before nine. That will give you time to come downstairs and have a shower.”

“I missed the last train,” he confessed.

Her brows furrowed in obvious confusion, and she got to her feet. “I’m sorry I didn’t know there was such a thing as the last train. But then again, the only train I’ve ever been on is the little railway that runs from Monte Carlo to Cap-d’Ail in France.” She nervously worried her bottom lip. “And that only take two minutes.”

Ryan sensed her discomfort. The embarrassment of having lived a life so far removed from that of other people. People like him.

“You’ve never needed to use the subway, so there is nothing to apologize about. I should be the one apologizing. I miscalculated the time it would take me to get to the subway last night, and ended up having to sleep here.”

Ryan glanced at the soft as silk blanket which still covered his body. “Thank you for the blanket, and the pillow.”

Camille nodded. “You missed the last train working overtime for me. It was the least I could do.” She started toward the door, then stopped and turned to him. “Are you coming? There are plenty of fresh towels in the bathroom downstairs.”

She’d grown up in a life of privilege and luxury. All her friends were wealthy. Her family was known throughout the world. Everyone who was anyone knew the Royal family. Camille had always been comfortable in her own skin, and yet this morning she had been embarrassed when she’d admitted she didn’t know the first thing about public transport.

When she travelled it was usually via private jet. And when she wanted to get around town, she simply called up the Royal Resorts car service. Hailing a cab was the closest she ever got to being like the eight million other people who lived in the city.

What would Ryan say if he discovered I can’t even legally drive a car?

Not having a license didn’t really matter in New York City, but she was thirty one and didn’t have a clue how to drive. She really ought to at least have the skills to be able to get behind the wheel of a motor vehicle.

Maybe one day I’ll ask him to teach me how to drive.

The soft padding of Ryan’s footsteps followed her down the internal staircase, past the kitchen and into the main living space of her apartment. As far as she was aware, before thismorning, he hadn’t been any further than the kitchen and that was only ever to get food.

Camille’s sense of embarrassment deepened, when Ryan quietly whistled. “Wow, this place is amazing. So much room. Do you own this apartment, Camille?”

She forced a smile to her lips and turned round. “No, Bryce does. He bought it from his father, Edward. And before you ask, he charges me full commercial rates. Despite what some people might say, I am trying to pay my own way with this design gig.”

Ryan winced. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to cause offence. I was just trying to say, I really love your apartment and studio. And yes, I know you come from a different world to me. We are who we are.”

Great, now he thinks I’m too defensive of how I live my life.

The truth was, until her move to New York, money had always been a bit of a mystery to Camille. Something she’d never had to seriously consider. Bryce had been sitting beside her when she’d put her name to her first contract with a department store. And he’d also negotiated a good deal for her with the exclusive stage costume range for the Chloe Fisher Las Vegas concerts.

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