Page 163 of Titus

“No.”

He sounded entirely unconcerned.

“Titus.”

His eyes finally lifted. “What?”

“You have a house.”

“I do.”

“You have a very large house.”

“I do. And a penthouse suite waiting for me in Los Angeles.”

“And there, you have an extremely comfortable bed.”

His mouth twitched.

“I do.”

Eventually, I laughed. “You’re impossible.”

“I’ve been informed.”

His hand slid into mine, and his expression softened. “I don’t want to go home tonight.”

The honesty in his voice immediately stole the teasing response from me.

“Why not?”

For a moment, he simply looked at me.

Then he finally spoke, “Because I spent the last week falling asleep without you in my arms and waking up wishing you were there.”

My heart clenched. “Titus⁠—”

“I spent the last forty-eight hours in meetings.” His thumb brushed over my knuckles. “I canceled dinner.” Then he frowned. “I hated canceling dinner on you, preciosa.”

“I know.”

“I know you know.” His gaze held mine. “But I still hated it.”

Something about the way he said it made my chest ache. Hearing the disappointment in his voice made it easy to see that he’d wanted the evening too.

Maybe more than I realized.

“I just want to fall asleep with you in my arms.” His hand tightened around mine, his eyes never leaving mine. “And when I wake up tomorrow morning, I want you there.”

I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. When I pulled back, his forehead rested against mine.

“You know,” I whispered, “for a ruthless businessman, you’re alarmingly sweet.”

His arms slid around my waist. “Don’t tell anyone.”

I laughed. “Your reputation?”

“Of course.”