Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
But suddenly, I frown. Didn’t Ricky also work for a construction company? Not that he actually worked, worked. It seemed he frequently overslept and sometimes didn't even bother to show up. But at this point, who cares? It’s not my business. I push that loser out my mind and resolve never to waste another thought on him.
Inside the make-up room, I set up my kit and prepare a small table of refreshments for the President of Karmax, who I’m told will be ready for the make-up chair at 9 a.m. Sure enough, at 8:59 the door flies open with a bang. But this must be some joke because dressed impeccably in an expensive suit is Ricky! My coffee almost drops in shock and I snort, brown droplets shooting from my mouth and nose.
Ricky laughs, a deep, charming ripple that I’ve never heard issue from his lips before.
“What are you doing here?” I hiss at him. “Seriously. What?”
His face drops into a confused, but polite smile.
“I believe I have an appointment with you,” he says in a deep male voice. I’m rooted to the spot, staring at Ricky’s impossibly handsome face. But there’s something off. My eyes practically cross, trying to figure it out. He’s the same, but not the same in infinitesimally small ways. Ricky had a small scar over his left eyebrow – does this man have that? His jaw looks more chiseled if possible, those lips more mobile.
And suddenly, the puzzle works itself out.
“Dylan Masterson,” the man says, reaching out his hand to me in introduction. “Nice to meet you.”
I shake his hand, furiously trying to connect the dots in my head. Masterson? Holy shit. Ricky had mentioned once that he had an identical twin brother, but I’d never met him. This must be him! I can't believe my asshole, deadbeat ex-boyfriend has a billionaire twin brother who’s the President of Karmax!
“I’m so sorry,” I finally manage, blushing. “I thought you were - I thought you were someone else.” I nervously shake his hand and Dylan smiles warmly at me, making my knees go soft. “I’m Fiona,” I quickly add, realizing I haven’t even introduced myself yet. “Please take a seat,” comes my murmur while nervously pulling out the make-up chair for him to sit in.
But the alpha male shrugs it off with careless masculine grace. He settles down and I drape my make-up cape over his expensive suit. As I reach forward to tie it together behind his neck, the inside of my wrist comes very close to his face. He glances up at me, his eyes the same piercing blue as Ricky’s, but so much kinder. I meet his gaze and can’t look away - an electric current travels between us. I can feel it reaching into my insides, turning them to mush, and down my legs, before settling into a tingle in my pussy. Dylan must feel it too because he suddenly clears his throat and turns his face away from my wrist.
“Your perfume’s very nice,” he rasps softly. “A lovely floral scent.”
“I’m not wearing any,” I answer sassily, unable to hide the smile spreading across my face.
He looks back up at me and matches my grin. “Just naturally sweet, huh?”
I swallow, smiling at the compliment but also completely tongue-tied. Since when are hot guys actually nice? But I catch myself. This is work. So I start doing his make-up, whipping out my brushes and paints while fidgeting a bit with the lights and mirror.
But at the same time, I’m intensely aware of Dylan in a way I’ve never been aware of a client before. The way his skin radiates heat as I lean forward to brush his bronzed skin with setting powder. The way those shoulders are so broad, his massive form hulking in the make-up chair. And I can’t get over Dylan’s physical similarity to Ricky – after all, they’re identical twins, although also different in subtle, idiosyncratic ways. Because Ricky was lazy, rude, and vain. The bad twin was arrogant, and commanded no respect.
By contrast, I’ve only known Dylan for about two seconds and already I can tell that he’s totally different. His straight posture makes him look taller than Ricky, even though they should be the exact same height. He’s gentle and kind, yet commanding, without having to do or say much.
Oh god. My attraction to him is making my hands shake. I hope he doesn’t notice! But I can see from the corner of my eye he’s keeping his eyes on my face as I work. The fact that I’m into him must be obvious as day. I bet Dylan can walk into any room and make women swoon, falling over themselves like idiots. But for him to be into me? No, that’d be a pipe dream. Ricky may have been hot, but he was still a loser, whereas Dylan is clearly nothing of the sort. He’s an alpha prime. What would a man like this want with a brunette with a couple extra pounds?