Page 80 of Saved By the Billionaire

“I’d be lying if I said I’m not tempted,” he joked, then realised it was only barely a joke. He could think of nothing better than just bringing her back to his hotel room for a night. To talk. To let him apologise over and over and at least know that he was being honest. “But I’ve learned my lesson; I’ll be good. Where do you need to go?”

She hesitated. “This doesn’t mean you’re forgiven.”

“I know. It’s just a lift.”

She looked at her phone again, swore, and then nodded. “There are no Ubers in the area.” She glared at him, like that was his fault. “Fine. Yes. A lift into the city would be good. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, Kate. I can’t bear it.” And he crossed the street with her, careful not to touch. At the car, he opened the front passenger door, hovering behind her in case she needed his help, but still, not touching. She stepped up into the vehicle and slid into the seat, fastening her seatbelt before he closed the door with a soft click and strode to his own side.

They were silent for a long time. Roman, because he had no idea what to say—no idea what he had a right to say—and Kate? She probably couldn’t bear to speak to him.

But as the city drew close, and their journey almost to an end, she sighed, and murmured, “What were you doing at my place?”

God, but she smelled so good. Intoxicatingly perfect. He gripped the wheel.

“Roman?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“By spying on me?”

“I thought if I could just see you…see you smile, I don’t know.”

She clasped her hands in her lap and angled her face away, looking out of the window. He pulled up at a light and took a moment to just stare at her, the soft curls of her blonde hair, the honey of her tan—darker now than it had been—and his gut rolled with what he’d had, and lost. What he’d been too damned stupid, and broken, to know how to keep. To let himself have. Be honest with her. Tell her how you feel and go from there.

“I’ve spent a long time thinking I don’t deserve to be happy.”

Kate whirled around to face him, eyes softening for the briefest moment, showing the kindness he’d come to feel from her. She covered it quickly. “Everyone deserves to be happy.”

“What happened with Grace, you know I’ve blamed myself for⁠—”

“Don’t put this at her feet. How you spoke to me has nothing to do with Grace.”

He startled at that. It was pure Kate—her ability to call him on bullshit, to make him dig deeper. “You’re right. She’d be as mad at me as you are, as Tia is. Hell, she’d be madder.”

Kate looked away again. He was losing her. He was no good at this.

“But I do have survivor guilt. I have spent most of my adult life intentionally sabotaging every relationship except with Tia, because I would rather be alone than enjoy what Grace will never have. That’s not bullshit, Kate, that’s the truth.”

Her fingers fidgeted faster but she kept her face averted.

“And you were the biggest threat of all. You were the fairytale.”

Her fingers froze. The words hung between them. The CBD loomed ahead, shrouded in the foreground by enormous, green foliage. Christmas lights were strung from building to building, and the streetlights had big hanging posters advertising the Christmas attractions of the city.

“I was an illusion. It all was.”

“Do you really believe that?”

She was silent, and he was glad.

He wanted to stall, to travel around the block a few times to make this drive take longer, but Kate was leaning forward, her dress hitching up distractingly against her slender legs. “You can go down that one-way street. There’s a back entrance to the hotel, for staff.”

He didn’t want to think of Kate using a staff entrance to anything but he nodded curtly. He was in no position to start arguing with her over something so minor.

“What’s your event tonight?”

She turned to face him. “I think it’s better we don’t talk about it.”