Page 55 of Bribed by the Billionaire Bad Boy

Sighing, Lex closes his door and meanders to mine, opening it and holding out his hand for me to take, like I’m a lady or something. “Did I neglect to mention I baked them myself?”

I bluster, refusing his hand, refusing to get out. “You know dang well you explicitly neglected to mention that!” Panic swells. I’ve been running through a thousand different pictures of bakeries in my head. Lavish ones. Normal ones. I may joke aboutLex’s richness, but I was perfectly anticipating a regular old bakery, something family-owned that smells like happiness and warmth and spices for fall.

In all my wildest dreams and imaginations, I haven’t ever actually believed Lex’s house looked likethis. Just the garage is intimidating. What is his family like? I haven’t anticipated anything more than barista brief conversation, fumbling over a menu, asking for water instead of a fancy drink because I can’t decode what any of the fancy drinks are.

I am in no way prepared to meet anyone else likeLex. I’m a pauper. They’ll eat me alive.

Lex crouches in the doorway, looking up at me and resting his arms on his knees. “Eyes on me, sugar.”

I glance down at him.

“My parents aren’t in there—they’re on a business trip. Only the staff is around, and they aren’t going to grill you on whether or not you know not to get cashmere wet. Even though you’d pass that exam with flying colors because I already gave you the cheat sheet.”

Every one of my muscles is tight. “This isn’t funny.”

“I know.” His head tilts, his chin resting on one arm, and he looks so small down there. “Release a breath. We’re just getting muffins.”

I exhale deeply and try to collect myself.Justgetting muffins meansjustgetting muffins, not going to his house. The man hasstaff. What in the world does someone like me have any business being in a place withstaff? When I feel like I can manage words again, I whisper, “I wasn’t prepared for this, you jerk.”

“Neither was I. I thought you’d get upset and yell at me or something. My miscalculation.”

His casual response is getting on my nerves. Is it normal for him to have someone falling apart in his car? When I manage to look at him again, his eyes are closed, like he’s just waitingout the storm, like he doesn’t mind at all, like this is, in fact, completely normal.

“I can make whatever muffins you want. However many you want, too. Some for you and your mom.” His tone soothes. I force myself to focus on it and not the odd beating of my heart. “You bake, too, so I think you’re going to love the kitchen.”

A laugh gurgles out of me. “The kitchen is probably as big as my house.” I know thisgarageis.

“I don’t mean to sound cocky, but, yes, it is.”

I manage a swallow and am finally getting a hold on my bearings. “I hate surprises. Don’t do this again.”

“Noted.”

Dang him.

Blinking down tears that have threatened to come, I glare. “I mean it.”

His eyes open, the green hues deep and gentle. “I understand, sugar.” When he rises and offers me his hand again, it’s graceful and soft—almost Kenneth but completely Lex. No air of pretense coats him, so I take his hand and let him lead me out of the garage. Before we leave those concrete floors, he squeezes my hand and lets it fall.

Then we head up the groomed stone walk to the marble steps and into the mansion.

As expected, a chandelier hangs in the entryway—a wide foyer with sharp, sterile blacks and whites, silvers and golds.

I feel tiny beside the intricate dark wood doors, and I find myself stepping closer to Lex.

He flicks one of my braids.

“Alexander.” An older woman in an apron appears out of one of the hallways, and her eyes widen on me, but she sets my existence aside and focuses onAlexander. It’s too weird to hear someone else say his full name without any teasing. “Giorgio has your dinner ready. Should I set an extra place for the younglady?”

Dinner? A fancy dinner made by a chef? In thiscastle? Forget calling it a mansion. It has high walls and everything. It is actually a castle.

“Mrs. Yvon, this is Calypso, my classmate.”

Mrs. Yvon clasps her hands. “Such a lovely young lady with such a vibrant name. It’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Calypso. I hope Alexander has been treating you well.”

“Classmate,”Alexanderstresses, folding his arms. “We’re doing a school project together.”

It’s not even a lie. Did Lex plan this response ahead of time?