Page 81 of Saved By the Billionaire

“I don’t—” his breath burned in his chest. He tried to think straight, jammed on his indicator and took the street she said, but he went slowly. So, so slowly. “I’m interested.”

“It’s a Christmas party for a bank.”

“Who’s your client?”

“Actually, it’s not work, strictly speaking.”

He was very careful not to react. Not to show even a hint of jealousy, of possessive heat. “No?”

“I’m doing a favour for my boss,” she said, after a beat. “Her cousin is the CEO. He got divorced a year ago. She said the Christmas season is hard for him, so…”

Roman pulled over, staring straight ahead, knowing he couldn’t say anything. He couldn’t. He was jealous and he hated the thought of it, but he had to let her go. Even when any red-blooded man with more than two brain cells would spend five minutes with Kate and want to hold onto her forever.

She turned to face him slowly, almost against her will. “You’re Roman Hayes.”

He stared back at her, not understanding.

“I know you could walk into this thing and no one would bat an eyelid, but please, don’t.”

It was like being kicked, hard, when he least expected it. She was calling exactly the kind of play he might have wanted to make, once upon a time. To stake his claim, to hell with what she wanted. But he’d learned his lesson in double-quick time. One brutal mistake was all it had taken for Roman to see how much he needed to change.

If anything ever happened with Kate and him, it had to be because she chose him. Because she came to him. “Scout’s honour,” he promised, lifting two fingers in the air.

“Yeah, right,” she murmured, with a flicker of her lips that made his whole body catch fire. “There’s no way you were a Boy Scout.”

“Damn straight, and don’t act like you don’t love it.”

He’d gone too far. Her eyes widened and her smile dropped, her hand instinctively reaching for the car door handle.

“Kate?” It was a breathless plea, under it: please don’t go, yet. She just stared at him, halfway out the door.

“Do you want a ride home?”

Another smile, this one almost sympathetic. “I’ll be fine, Roman. I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself. You’re off the hook. Go home.” And it was clear she didn’t mean his hotel; she meant America—far, far away from her, and the new life she was building. He watched her disappear into the building, more goddess than woman, and felt every foundation stone of his life crumble. He no longer remembered who he was, nor what mattered, beyond Kate. She was everything, and he’d lost her. Through his own actions, he’d lost her, and he’d never recover from that.

It was the unequivocal proof she hadn’t really needed. But spending an evening with Benjamin Grey, CEO of one of the biggest investment banks in Australia, a man who was objectively an incredible catch—and quite clearly charmed by Kate—should have been enough to stir even the deadest of hearts. And yet she spent the night with him, going through the motions, making small talk, laughing at his jokes, completely aware that she felt absolutely nothing. Nothing. Not a single stirring of desire, not a single twist of need.

And as the night wore on, the absence of feeling for Benjamin turned into outright anger at Roman. He’d done this to her. He’d ruined her for all other men, more than she’d been ruined before they’d met. He’d become an impossible comparison, and he was also an impossible equation. They didn’t work. They were oil and water. Both messed up beyond repair, a trainwreck waiting to happen.

At the end of the night, when Benjamin walked her to a waiting cab and slid a fifty-dollar note to the driver, he pressed a kiss to her cheek and she contemplated shifting her face a little, to take his lips with hers and see what happened. She contemplated touching his chest and seeing if the beating of his heart stirred the beating of hers; but she knew. It would have been a futile experiment. And so she slipped into the backseat with a little wave and left the city behind.

At least, that was the plan. But as the cab slipped through the streets, towards her suburb, she leaned forward. “Actually, change of plan. Can you head to the Kernshaw?”

“No problems, love.”

She closed her eyes and blotted out her brain, trying not to think about what she was doing—and what she’d say when she got there. One way or another, though, things with Roman had to come to a head. For both their sakes, this had to end.

“I’m terribly sorry to bother you, but there’s a woman here to see Mr H.”

Mr H, she thought with a flick of her eyes. Talk about discretion.

“Says her name is Kate Darcy.”

Says her name, she thought, as though Kate was lying, when he’d seen her ID.

“Very good.”

The snooty man behind the reception counter replaced the phone receiver and levelled a gaze at Kate over the rim of his glasses. “Take a seat, Miss Darcy.”