Mr. Bossy Billioanaire and I
Not that he’d ever said as much, but she knew he was a stickler about appropriate behaviour.
He’d fixed a faucet, repaired a sticking window, and occasionally wrestled a giant arachnid from the bathroom—but that was it. Bobby, she knew, didn’t do spiders. He could run into a burning building, but a spider left him in a panic. It made her smile. And although it probably wasn’t true, the idea made him rather adorable.
He genuinely seemed to like her. He’d been engaged once, a few years ago, but it hadn’t lasted, and since then he hadn’t had a serious girlfriend. She should have been jumping out of her skin over the idea of him.
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