Page 4 of Saved By the Billionaire

She focused her gaze on a point over Roman’s shoulder. “I don’t trust anyone, and tonight just proves why that is.”

He actually agreed with that philosophy, but there was something so wrong about her wearing that cynicism. It was somehow discordant with who she was. His instincts, finely honed by a lifetime of having to read people and situations, told him that cynicism was not her natural state. Something had happened to make her feel it, though, and tonight hadn’t helped.

“Where’s home?”

Her gaze shifted back to his. “I⁠—”

“I don’t mean Australia,” he said, when her voice trailed off into nothing. “Where were you walking to tonight?”

“I’m—staying at a hostel,” she admitted. “While I find something more permanent.”

Dark emotions tightened inside of him. Grace had gone from hostel to hostel, then to the streets, and he’d never known. He’d thought she was travelling. Happy. He’d failed her so badly.

“Where?”

He hadn’t meant to sound so scathing, but he couldn’t help it.

She shook her head once. “Does it matter?”

Roman stood, surprised by the depth of his concern for this woman he didn’t know. Only, it wasn’t really about her, he realised. It was Grace, and all the ways he’d failed her, that made him want to fix things for Kate, somehow.

Before he could work out how to put that into words, a knock sounded, and a moment later, Garrett strode in, holding—as Roman had promised—a small, black handbag.

“Police have taken them into custody.”

“No. No police,” Kate groaned, sparking more curiosity.

He turned to face her. “Why not?”

She looked up at him, face pinched. I don’t trust anyone. Not even him.

He glanced at Garrett. “Check her out,” he ordered, before leaving the room.

When he returned a few moments later, with a warm, moist flannel, Garrett was shining a light in her eyes.

“She’s okay,” he surmised. “Good to observe her for twenty-four hours or so, just in case, but it looks like she was lucky.”

“Lucky?” Kate responded, lips flattened into a grimace.

“It could have been worse,” Roman agreed, moving to her side and crouching down once more. Ever so gently, he pressed the flannel to her bloodied face.

She grimaced visibly. “I can do it.”

He was tempted to argue, but there was such an inner strength to her statement, a fierce defiance, that he knew she would fight him to the death.

“Does it hurt anywhere else, Kate?” he asked instead.

She hesitated, a mutinous expression crossing her delicate features.

“Kate?” His tone was sharper than intended.

“My ankle,” she bit out, glancing downwards.

He followed the direction of her eyes, but Garrett was already there, moving his hands clinically. As he flexed her ankle, she yelped.

“Sorry.” Garrett’s voice was gruff and Roman tightened perceptibly.

“Careful.” His tone was sharp, a warning in the two syllables.