Page 20 of Saved By the Billionaire

Why hadn’t he set her up in a hotel suite with paid staff? He could have achieved the same outcome, but Roman hadn’t wanted to leave anything to chance. He’d learned that lesson once, and he was never likely to forget it.

He moved closer to Kate, somehow instinctively knowing she needed reassurance. In his experience, women usually did around Tia. Not only was she successful and beautiful, she had a presence that screamed wealth and refinement. While Roman understood why—growing up in abject poverty had led them both to be fastidious about all things—he also knew it was intimidating to a lot of people.

“Kate, this is one of my oldest friends, Tia Stallone. Tia,” he hesitated, not quite sure how to describe Kate.

“One of his newest friends,” Kate supplied, earning a wry smile from Roman before he transferred his attention back to Tia. She was unfurling the top of the bottle of the Pol Roger, a practiced look of non-concern on her face. A professional expression of polite curiosity, nothing more.

“Pleased to meet you, Kate.”

He watched as Kate shifted a little, sitting up straighter. He wanted to tell her not to move. Wearing a pair of loose jeans and a sweater, with her hair loose around her face, she was perfect. Almost perfect. The slight bruising remained along her temple and cheekbone, bringing a fresh wave of anger to him when he thought of how she’d been handled.

“You’re celebrating?”

“I sold a place,” Tia waved a hand in the air, as though it were no big deal, then placed the takeout bag down on the counter.

“Tia runs a huge realty company,” Roman supplied.

“Congratulations.” Kate’s own expression was not so easy to manipulate as she might have wished. Roman saw a host of emotions play across her features and for the first time in his adult life, he wished Tia wasn’t there.

Tia, who had grown up like a sister to him, and been through the worst of times at his side.

“Drinks?” Tia moved into the kitchen and pulled out three champagne flutes. It was on the tip of his tongue to say Kate wouldn’t have any, but she spoke first.

“Just a half glass.”

He shot her a warning look, concern throbbing through him. He wasn’t a huge fan of alcohol at the best of times, but coming hot on the heels of a head injury? Then again, she was fine now. No concussion, no signs of anything more severe. He tried to relax.

“Sure.” Tia’s smile was locked in place. “I got Chinese. You hungry?”

Kate bit down on her lower lip. “You guys go ahead without me. I have some things I can catch up on in my room.”

Even Tia wasn’t quick enough to hide her instant reaction to that. A brow quirked upwards, her eyes widening, before she contained her surprise. “That’s not necessary, Kate. There’s plenty of food.”

“But you two must want to catch up.”

Tia popped the bottle loudly, letting out a little squeal as champagne spurted from the top and she tilted it over the glasses. “Not at all. We’re celebrating. As far as I’m concerned, the more the merrier.”

Despite Tia’s protestations, Kate was adamant. She sipped her half glass of champagne and made polite conversation with Tia—who was an expert at keeping things moving—and then asked Roman for her crutches.

“This is easier,” he said, lifting her without looking in Tia’s direction, carrying her through the apartment to the guest room.

“She’s lovely,” Kate said, her voice quiet, as he placed her on the bed.

“She’s an old friend.”

Kate’s lips tugged to the side and he had a feeling she was putting up a wall, with him on the other side of it. He had a feeling he was being pushed out.

“Join us for dinner, Kate.”

She shook her head. “I’m really tired, honestly.”

“I’ll bring you something to eat in here.”

“I’m fine,” she said, smiling brightly. “Go, have fun.” She pulled her phone off the bedside table and began to flick through it, so he had no choice but to step out of her room and pull the door closed softly in his wake.

“Okay, spill.” Tia had topped up their glasses and dished out two bowls of Chinese. This was a well-established ritual for them; they each knew the other’s order and portion size. Naturally, she’d given him exactly what he would have chosen for himself.

“Spill what?” he asked with a smirk, her question completely understandable.