Page 75 of Titus

Good God. I didn’t need a security detail to board a damn private jet. But this was Titus we were talking about, and seeing Wyatt leaning casually beside the first vehicle made me think the security must be for him.

The energy the man gave off was as if this were any other day, not some chaotic, stormy night, and a gala he had just been pulled away from for my personal family crisis.

Wyatt Hawk looked absurdly relaxed for it being nearly three in the morning, dressed in dark slacks and a black sweater, with one hand shoved casually into his pocket as rain thrashed through the harbor around him.

The moment he saw me approaching, his expression softened. “Ms. Veléz,” he greeted gently as he opened the rear passenger door for me. “Titus filled me in. I’m Wyatt. I don’t believe we’ve formally met.”

“Call me Cat. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said, sliding into the backseat as Wyatt climbed in beside me.

“How is your sister?” he asked quietly as the convoy pulled away from the marina.

Same damn charming Spanish accent as his brother’s.

“They still don’t know.”

Wyatt nodded once, his jaw tightening briefly before he glanced back toward the storm-dark coastline.

“We’ll get you there fast.”

The drive grew quieter after that.

My mind stayed trapped somewhere between worry for Amelia and complete disbelief that Titus Hawk had somehow slipped into the middle of one of the worst nights of my life. And this time, he was the best part of the night, coming to the rescue in the most unexpected ways.

“Titus originally wanted the helicopter sent for you,” Wyatt said casually after several minutes of silence, “but the pilots refused to clear the weather over the water.”

“Yeah, I can see why they wouldn’t want to fly in this weather,” I smiled at him.

By the time we reached Nice Côte d’Azur Airport, the rain had softened to a steady mist over the private aviation terminal, and waiting beyond the illuminated runway was a Gulfstream G800.

Jesus Christ.

The aircraft looked less like a private jet and more like something belonging to a foreign government. Its sleek black body reflected on the wet tarmac as ground crew moved efficiently beneath runway lighting, preparing the aircraft for immediate departure.

“Titus had the crew prep the jet as soon as you agreed,” Wyatt explained calmly beside me. “We’ll be in the air shortly after we board.”

That shouldn’t have affected me as much as it did, since it was such an obvious flex from Titus, but I desperately appreciated him helping me like this.

And because of his help, I was here at nearly three in the morning, emotionally wrecked, staring at the seventy-million-dollar jet Titus Hawk mobilized within an hour because my sister was in the hospital. So yes, the man was suddenly becoming difficult to dislike.

The SUV pulled up in front of the steps, and Wyatt opened the door. Before stepping out, he looked over at me. “You look exhausted, cariño,” he said gently, then offered his hand to help me out of the vehicle. “Let’s get you home to your sister.”

“Thank you. Seriously,” I said, stepping out. “I know you’re being pulled away from the event before it even starts.”

He smiled over at me as we walked toward the jet’s staircase. “Please,” he chuckled. “You’ve given me an excellent excuse to drop a check and get the hell out of there.”

I smiled for the first time tonight. “You’re a lot different from Titus, though you do look a lot like your brother.”

“Unfortunately, Titus didn’t get my charming personality to accompany our good looks, so it’s really just wasted on him,” he said with a wink, guiding me up the steps and into the lavish jet.

I glanced toward the cockpit, where the captain and co-pilot were already going through their preflight checks.

“They normally greet us,” Wyatt smirked, gesturing toward the leather chairs. “But Titus told them to focus on getting us in the air upon our arrival,” he said as I went to sit in one of the leather chairs.

“You may sit wherever you like, of course,” he said. “However, there is an entertainment area with sofas and dining tables. Or you may use one of the beds to rest during the flight home.”

“That sounds appealing,” I said, “but I won’t be able to sleep.”

“Come,” he said with a warm smile, his bronze eyes glistening. “I’ll have Meg prepare a meal and cocktails for us to unwind a little.”