Bound to Her: Three Dates With a Billionaire by Emma Lyn Wild

Author:Emma Lyn Wild [Wild, Emma Lyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: contemporary romance, New Adult, Coming of age, New York, Hollywood, steamy romance
Amazon: B016E1IW9E
Goodreads: 27778731
Publisher: Romance Reads Today
Published: 2015-11-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Three

Troy

After leaving the museum, I knew I could do it. Antony had been bothering me for weeks, nagging at me to get him right, but I couldn’t get hold of him, hadn’t found that seed inside him that I needed for the connection. At this rate the show would belong to Sonia. She was a great actress, and a great costar, but I wanted more. I could do it.

Before I’d become superhero Foxman, I’d worked on smaller budget movies with big ambitions. I’d gathered a reputation for edgy, exciting acting. Fuck, I should have kept with them instead of letting a franchise swoop me up and put me in front of a fucking green screen. I’d gotten lazy. For the first time in years I was working, instead of walking through my part, letting the costume and my looks do it for me.

And I couldn’t get it. Sonia had worked hard with me, but although we’d managed competence, we weren’t there yet. We were both praying that we’d work it out in the previews. A play sometimes came to life in front of an audience.

When I’d left the museum earlier, part of what was missing slotted into place. When I’d fucked Cassie in that little room, it was because I couldn’t help myself. I’d needed her. It wasn’t the danger that had driven my libido right up to the sky, it was her. Like a compulsion, or an addiction.

Antony had Cleopatra like that. She’d made herself irresistible to him and it wasn’t just that she was leading him around by his dick, it was—something else.

Fuck, I was nearly there. At least I had one more piece. I started from the inside out, which was why I always stunk in early rehearsals. It was also why I worked hard to be word perfect before rehearsals started, so I could concentrate on the character.

While I was frantically working shit out, that idiot Steve was talking, and talking. Yeah, I knew the museum meant a lot to my old man, which was why I behaved myself here. Well, within reason, at any rate. I nodded and smiled, and that seemed to work out for him, but I didn’t dare leave my train of thought, because it would go. I needed to get to my phone and note a few things down, but if I did it now, I might not be helping Cassie’s case.

I would work for her to get what she wanted—a paid job at the museum. If she had that, she’d be so much happier, and less tired. She had circles under her eyes today. She was working too hard, and she wouldn’t let me ease her burden. While I respected her for that, it also frustrated me that she wouldn’t let me help.

After refusing lunch with Steve, pleading pressure of work, I headed out. The back rooms of the museum were a lot like backstage in a theater. Lots of wrapped parcels, drawers and draped paintings, looking like scenery. It even smelled familiar, of dust and age.

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