Page 90 of Titus

I smiled, crossed both my arms, and leaned forward against the table. “Isn’t that what I told you I would do?”

“Yes,” she sat back, and her face scrunched up in the most adorable way. “I just didn’t think you could do it. You seem to be a man who is only interested in talking about his empire.”

I sighed. “I can’t even imagine the theories you have created in your mind about me, based solely on first impressions.”

“This would be my second impression of you,” she said, “after, of course, you told me I virtually robbed your company blind.”

“I see,” I answered. “So, you believe inflating your costs by double to take over as my planner wasn’t extortion?”

My smile was most likely the only thing that kept her expression playful.

“I saved your ass,” she said, tipping her beer bottle toward me. “And you know that.”

“This is true. It’s also why I’m very curious about what compelled you to work in this high-intensity environment where demanding men and women are usually never satisfied.”

“I grew up in it,” she answered, as if that were not a massive reveal to me.

“Intriguing,” I answered. “May I ask why you and your sister seem to have escaped your wealthy family’s lifestyle? Do you have a brother who is set to take over the family’s business?”

She laughed. “No, not even close,” she answered. “Our mother worked for wealthy Spanish elites as their personal chef. We were dragged onto yachts and into homes all over the world. We were even flown to wherever she would be staying with them, as they demanded she fly in their jets to cook their meals.”

I knew my expression must’ve gone blank because that was not the response I expected from her. No wonder she formed a poor opinion of me. No wonder money didn’t impress the woman. She’d spent her childhood growing up with her mother catering to men like me, dragging her two children everywhere.

“Amelia is actually my half-sister,” she continued. “My father left before I was born, and then my mom eventually met Amelia’s dad, but he died when she was a toddler. Sadly, our mother never had a relationship with either of us. Her relationship was with the family she cooked for, and she didn’t have room for anyone else.”

“I am truly sorry to hear this for you and your sister,” I answered, not really knowing how to respond.

It was so far from how my own mother was with my brothers and me. It was merely the control and abuse from our father that kept her with him.

“Don’t be sorry,” she smiled. “It shaped me into the woman I am today.”

I studied the beauty of the woman, just hearing the words that made her resilient leave her mouth.

“I believe I should be grateful then.” I stood, seeing that we were both done and that we were most likely not ready for deep conversations so quickly.

“For what?” she answered, confused and smiling.

Her eyes were dazzling and intoxicating as she kept them locked on mine. I walked around the table and extended my hand.

“Because if that wasn’t your path in life,” she rose, her eyes still on mine after I pulled her close, “I wouldn’t have crossed paths with the most intriguing woman I’ve ever known.”

I heard her suck in a nervous breath. She wasn’t resisting this closeness, and I knew it had to be the beer in her system that was making her melt in my arms, something I’d been imagining far too often since I’d become obsessed with her.

I couldn’t resist gently brushing a strand of hair from her face that the breeze had blown across it.

“We shouldn’t…” she whispered in a shaky voice.

“We won’t,” I answered with a smile. “Not tonight.”

“Tonight?”

I grinned, not knowing whether the woman was intoxicated by our closeness or the booze.

“Allow me to take you out. When you are available, of course.”

“Of course,” she blinked, then pulled back. “I mean, sure. Perhaps you’ll take me to a taco truck to try to one-up me for tonight’s meal?”

“I’d love that,” I smiled.