Best Friends With the Billionaire (The Rochesters) by Coleen Kwan Page A

Cassie’s bare feet. “I insist you have a pedicure soon. You can’t walk around like that.”
    Cassie self-consciously wriggled her unvarnished toes in the carpet. “Fine,” she replied.
    Tomorrow she would buy those jade stilettos and a matching gown, and then she’d have a pedicure, manicure, her hair styled—the whole works. And then maybe Kirk would sit up and take notice of her.
    …
    Kirk stood in the hallway, waiting for Cassie to come down so they could set off for the dinner with Hank Parnell and his daughter. He jingled his car keys and wondered what was taking Cassie so long. He was about to call out to her when a slight noise sounded behind him.
    He turned as a tall, curvaceous beauty clad in a shimmering dress descended the stairs. The dress was sparkly silver, cut low in the front and tight at the waist, folds sweeping over her hips. The air caught in his throat as he took in the generous curve of her breasts highlighted by the clingy material. Her hair, streaked with blond highlights, was casually piled on top of her head, emphasizing the slenderness of her neck. As she moved toward him, a slit in her dress parted, revealing long, toned legs clad in sheer stockings and pointy-toed, high-heeled jade stilettos.
    “Cassie?”
    His brain stuttered, his heart pounded, his body surged. White-hot lust streaked through him and consolidated in his groin. A silent groan lodged in his throat. That dress… So help him God, that dress was made for pulling off. He could picture it already—sliding the fabric off her shoulders, moving his hands to cup her naked breasts, lifting her legs in those come-fuck-me heels so they wrapped around his hips as he pressed into her.
    “Hi, Kirk.”
    She paused a few yards away, hands twisting together. She was nervous, he realized with a shock. She might have glammed herself up, but beneath the dress, the shoes, the makeup, she was still the Cassie he knew.
    Conflicting emotions rushed over him. He couldn’t show her how much her appearance turned him on. He had to treat her like always, like the familiar, old friend, not a horny goat.
    He cleared his throat. “You look, uh, very nice.”
    A small V appeared between her eyebrows. “Nice?”
    He forced himself to look away from her cleavage. “Very…glamorous. You sure you won’t get too cold in that?”
    She pressed her lips together. They were colored with scarlet lipstick, plump and luscious and inviting. Heaven help him, how was he going to ignore her lips all night?
    “I have a wrap.” She lifted a diaphanous wrap from the coat stand and settled it over her shoulders. Her gaze ran over his dark suit and clean, white shirt. She gave a nod of approval. “Shall we go?”
    As she walked out the house ahead of him, he found himself hypnotized by her hourglass figure. Why had she kept this hidden for so long? Or was he only noticing now? The dress, which should come with a warning label, stretched seductively over her ass, inviting him to squeeze and caress. His cock hardened in anticipation. Damn, this was not the time or place to sport a boner. But it seemed his self-control had deserted him. He was flustered, turned on, and very confused.
    He slammed the front door shut, his frustration leaking out. One way or another, this was going to be a tough night.
    …
    “Charming, charming.” Hank Parnell shook Cassie’s hand for a few extra seconds, his expression filled with appreciation.
    Cassie finally got her hand back and took her seat at the table. At least Hank had complimented her on her appearance. He hadn’t labeled her “nice,” like Kirk had. Nice. Huh. All that effort she’d gone to, and all he could say was “nice.” And then he’d qualified it with “glamorous” after a very long pause that had revealed his true feelings on the matter.
    She should have known that no amount of tarting up could put her on par with Alison. To Kirk she would always be one of the guys. He probably didn’t even notice she