Page 6 of Saved By the Billionaire

“I’m serious,” she insisted. He stopped walking, regarding her for a long beat, so her eyes dropped from his and landed on his stubble-covered jawline, square and strong.

“Okay, show me.”

She didn’t expect it, but a second later, his hands shifted, so he was setting her down in the plush carpet corridor. The second her injured foot connected with the floor, she yelped, and reached out a hand to the wall to take her weight, but even before it could connect, she was being scooped up once more, a warning expression on his face launching her heart right into her throat.

“Stop arguing for the sake of it.”

“Well, you stop being…I don’t know. So bossy.”

Okay, she knew she should be showing more gratitude. The guy had very likely saved her life, and brought her to this incredible apartment, had her checked out by someone she presumed had medical experience. She was safe, in a way she hadn’t thought likely a few hours ago. Her head throbbed, her ankle hurt, and suddenly, she was conscious of how tired she was. How long it had been since she’d eaten anything. How alone she was, on the other side of the world from where she’d grown up, completely without an anchor or compass.

“I have a low tolerance for stupidity.”

She gasped. “You’re calling me stupid?”

“The way you’re arguing with me, yes.”

“I literally just met you.”

“And?”

She clamped her mouth shut. “Is this how you treat everyone?”

His eyes probed hers, a muscle throbbing at the base of his jaw. “Yes.”

“Wow. You must be popular.”

His half-smile was pure cynicism. He shouldered in a door that was already ajar, then flicked on a light. The room was, in a word, palatial. A huge king-size bed, sumptuous white coverings, an arm chair by the window, and what looked to be a bathroom and wardrobe attached.

“I’m not sharing your room,” she said, a shiver running through her spine at the very idea.

“This is a guest room,” he responded tightly. “And it’s for one night.”

“Oh.” She wished she didn’t experience an immediate stab of disappointment at that. What had she expected? That he’d want her to stay longer? Until she’d recovered fully? He’d already gone above and beyond by rescuing her and bringing her here. But the thought of returning to the youth hostel, of needing to find another cash job, of continuing the search for her biological father when she had barely any money left and was now broken in body as well as spirit, was almost too much.

He placed her down on the bed with a gentleness that made something catch in her throat. A moment later, he was fluffing a pillow to place beneath her injured foot, then handing her the remote control for a flat-screen television that was mounted on the wall across the room.

“What would you like to eat?”

Her stomach clenched at the very idea of food. She was absolutely exhausted, suddenly.

“Anything.” Her tone was unrecognisably weak. It felt almost as though his sudden kindness was her undoing. She felt the sharp sting of tears behind her eyes and blinked quickly, refusing to give into them in front of him. “Just something easy. Toast. Noodles. Whatever.”

He arched a dark brow. “That’s not food.”

“Well, whatever,” she said, shaking her head, emotions rioting.

Maybe he understood her sudden vulnerability, because he took a step backwards abruptly, moving towards the door. “Do you need anything in the meantime?”

She was thirsty, too, but she shook her head, because being alone was the most important thing. “I’m fine.”

For the briefest moment, sympathy softened his features. “You will be, Kate.” And then, he left.

Not even half an hour later, he returned with a tray of food, and somehow, it was exactly what she needed, without her even having said it. Her stomach groaned audibly as he placed it on her lap and she inhaled the fragrance of ravioli with a creamy garlic sauce, and buttery white bread. “That looks so good,” she admitted gratefully.

“Comfort food.”

She rejected that description, even though it was apt. She wasn’t someone who needed comforting. She was strong. Capable. Alone and independent. Except tonight, she had needed help, and Roman had offered it. Now, he was bringing her warm, gooey comfort food and she wanted that, too.