The Billionaire's Disgraced Virgin (Billionaire Knights Book 2) Read Online Free Page B

inclined to defend herself and the way she lived. Frugality might be considered a sin in the world this billionaire inhabited, but in her own estimation it was a blessing and a skill to be praised, not mocked. A mutinous streak compelled her to pipe up in a soft voice, “Don’t like what you see, Mr. Knight?”
    Instantly she regretted her rash comment. Here stood her overlord and master, the man who decided her fate, and she had no business antagonizing him even more after turning down his offer. What was wrong with her? But then it seemed that his mere presence was turning her world upside down. She’d never invited any man up here, and most certainly not a billionaire hunk, and for some reason watching his presence clash with her sense of normalcy had a strange effect on her, encouraging her to do and say things she normally never would. Color flooded her cheeks as he turned his haughty and autocratic gaze on her.
    “What I see, Miss Ross, is an apartment that is well below your current means. And I should know, as I’m the one signing your paycheck each month. What has compelled you to—” He swept his hand in an all-encompassing gesture at her modest apartment. “—to choose this place to make your home in? Don’t I pay you enough to afford something more decent?”
    Embarrassment vied with irritation at his words. Irritation won, adding yet more color to her customarily pale cheeks. “You’d be surprised how much a place like this costs, Mr. Knight. Though obviously you wouldn’t know that, considering your privileged position and your not inconsiderable wealth.”
    “And you’d be surprised what I do and do not know,” he bit back, his voice turning as icy as his gray eyes.
    Once again she’d allowed herself to be carried away by her resentment and shoot her mouth off. And once again she bitterly regretted her outburst as soon as the words had rolled from her lips. “I’m sorry,” she began, shaking her head.
    He was standing before her, wide-legged, his hands folded behind his back, his face a mask of cold scorn. It was obvious from his expression that she’d angered him. “You should be sorry,” he shot back, “for you have no idea how I lead my life, as I have no idea how you lead yours. The only thing I can tell is that you consciously clothe yourself in garb that is a disgrace to an attractive young woman like yourself, and you choose to live in an apartment and in a neighborhood that must cause you considerable emotional distress and not the succor one expects to find in one’s home after a long day at the office.” He directed a pointed look at the window when a car exhaust fired outside. She’d jumped inadvertently, as it sounded like a gun being discharged, not an unusual occurrence in this part of town. “Trust me, Miss Ross, I know more about the cost of living in London than you might imagine, and this place simply won’t do.”
    He was deliberately taunting her, she saw, trying to undermine what little self-esteem she’d managed to scrape together in the five years since her life had been turned upside down. She tilted her chin in a rare gesture of defiance. This lordly man, obviously used to telling people off, wasn’t going to do the same to her. If he thought she was going to stand here and take his abuse he was sorely mistaken. “Actually I enjoy living here,” she lied valiantly. “And as far as my wardrobe is concerned, that is hardly your business, is it? As long as my work is satisfactory I should think that my private life is of no concern to you.”
    “That’s where you’re wrong. Your work is indeed satisfactory,” he allowed, “but if you’re going to be working directly for me your wardrobe is my concern.”
    Flustered, she stammered, “Working directly for you? But I thought I made it clear—”
    “That you prefer to hide behind your desk and refuse my offer?” he grated out sardonically. “Yes, you made that abundantly clear, Miss Ross. And I