Valentine’s Billionaire Auction

Chapter 31

31

KAIRA

I noticed Roman’s gaze lingering on me during dinner, but I couldn’t quite read his expression. Was he impressed? Annoyed? Amused? I couldn’t tell. But he was participating, which was more than I expected.

After dinner, Carla gave me a look that said she was ready to head home. I walked her to the door, not wanting her to leave but knowing she had an early morning yoga class.

“Thanks for today,” she whispered, hugging me tightly. “I needed this.”

I hugged her back just as fiercely. “Call me anytime. Day or night. Just because we’re not under the same roof doesn’t mean I’m abandoning you. And I’ll be back in five and a half months.”

“I don’t know,” she said with a grin.

“What does that mean?”

“It means, he was looking at you like you were dessert.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t think so. He was probably thinking about what he’s going to say to me once we’re alone—if we’re alone. He’s going to yell at me for monopolizing his kitchen and serving him a meal that is way too indulgent.”

“I think he can afford a few calories.”

I laughed. “He’s probably on his way to the gym downstairs as we speak.”

“Oh, a hot and sweaty Roman is very, very intriguing.”

I had to bite my lip. She had no idea how hot it was to see him go to town on a punching bag. Or between my legs. The thought made me blush.

I walked her to the car and waved as Anthony pulled out of the driveway to take her home. When she was out of sight, I went back inside and felt the shift in the air. The house was finally quiet. The staff had retreated to their quarters after I insisted they let me clean up my own mess. A few of them really tried to argue, but I insisted. I had to remind them I was currently the lady of the house.

I walked through the foyer and into the kitchen, which was still a mess. The night had been too perfect to end on a sour note of messy counters and piled dishes. I rolled up my sleeves and got to work.

The sound of footsteps startled me. I turned to see Roman leaning against the doorframe, his tie undone and his sleeves already halfway rolled up. He looked more relaxed than I’d ever seen him, and somehow even more intimidating for it.

“Can I help?” he asked.

“You don’t have to help,” I said, waving him off as he stepped into the kitchen. “I’ve got this.”

He ignored me, walking over to the sink and grabbing a dishtowel. “I want to.”

I blinked. Roman washing dishes? I wasn’t sure if I should laugh or take a picture for posterity. But the way he set his jaw told me this wasn’t up for debate.

“Okay,” I said. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Why don’t you just use the dishwasher?”

I sighed at him. “Her name is Gloria and I gave her the night off.”

Roman’s eyes widened and he laughed. “No, I know who Gloria is. I meant the actual machine that washes dishes.”

“Oh, right,” I said, feeling foolish. “This dish is too big and requires a little elbow grease.”

The sound of water running and dishes clinking filling the room. It was oddly domestic. I found myself smiling as I wiped down the counters.

“This was fun tonight,” I said after a while.

Roman glanced over at me. “Cooking with my staff?”

“Yes,” I said. “It felt like a home. Not just a fancy house where people work, but an actual home.”

He was quiet for a moment, his hands moving methodically as he scraped a plate over the trashcan. “It’s been a long time since this kitchen felt like that.”

I wanted to ask more, but I gave him space to feel whatever he was feeling.

Until I blurted out, “You should let me throw you a birthday party.”

Roman shot me a look that said he was very unimpressed with my suggestion. “I don’t do birthdays.”

“I know,” I said quickly. “You don’t celebrate. I get it. But tonight wasn’t really about the mac and cheese, was it? It was about everyone being together. We could do something low-key, here at the house, with your staff and friends. Catered, so nobody has to work. Ruby would love it.”

He paused, setting a plate in the drying rack. “Why would you think that?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s your family. She helped raise you. I would think she would want to hang out and celebrate with you.”

He grunted. “Maybe.”

“Where is she, anyway? I haven’t seen her since the day she arrived.”

“She’s like an outdoor cat,” he said with a faint smirk. “She comes and goes as she pleases.”

That made me laugh. “Was she like that when she stepped in after your parents died?”

His smirk faded, and he nodded, his eyes distant. “She was good that first year. But Ruby’s not built to stay in one place. She used to say she got itches in her britches. The world was always calling her. With me in school, she felt tied down. During summer break, she dragged me all over the place, but Ruby cannot stay in one place for nine months a year. I think it’s impossible. When it’s her time to say goodbye to this world, I have no doubt she’s going to do it while on a cruise or flying over the Atlantic. There is no way she’s going to allow herself to lay in bed and rot.”

“I imagine her lifestyle keeps her young,” I said. “What did you do while she was traveling all the time?”

“I spent a lot of time here, with the staff. They made sure I went to school, cooked dinner while I did my homework at the island, things like that. They all helped me with my math and offered plenty of opinions about what I should be reading for language arts. The gardener taught me how to care for the plants in the solarium, like my dad used to. And the cleaning staff? They were relentless about my bed and laundry. It was like having ten moms and a handful of dads. They kept me in check for the most part. When your staff is also raising you, it’s hard to get anything by them.”

I smiled at that, imagining a young Roman being scolded for leaving his clothes on the floor. “At least they tried to give you some normalcy.”

He nodded, his voice soft. “I would have been lost without them.”

I stopped scrubbing a pot and placed a hand on his wrist. “Well, I for one am glad you weren’t lost. I’m glad you weren’t left to raise yourself. I have a feeling you probably would not be where you are right now without them. Too many young people go wild and make some pretty shitty decisions that end up ruining their lives.”

He looked down at my hand, then up at me, his eyes softer than I’d ever seen them. “Me too.”

Something unspoken passed between us, a weight I couldn’t quite name but felt deep in my chest. He cleared his throat, breaking the moment. “Enough about me,” he said. “Tell me one of your dreams.”

I blinked. “My dreams?”

He nodded, leaning against the counter, his full attention on me. He crossed his legs at his ankles and folded his arms across his chest. He looked very relaxed. Very normal. “Yeah. Tell me something.”

I hesitated, but since he had told me a little about him, I felt like I needed to open up a bit as well. We did have to live together another five and a half months. We may as well try to be friends. “I want to write love stories.”

“You said you wanted to be a writer the night we met, right?”

I laughed softly. “You remember that?”

“Vaguely,” he admitted. “I feel like an ass for forgetting. I tend to get caught up in my own world. I know I’m a dick. Probably a narcissist. Some chick told me that once.”

“It’s fine,” I said, waving it off. “It’s not like I’ve written anything in a while. Just because I want to be something doesn’t mean I’m going to. I’ve always loved books. Getting lost in the pages is my favorite thing in the world. One day, I’d like to give the world a chance to fall in love with one of my stories.”

Roman tilted his head, studying me. “Why not now? You don’t have a job. I’m not saying that to be a prick, but you don’t have to work. You don’t need to look for a job. You’ve got the time.”

“Carla said the same thing,” I admitted. “She told me I should use these six months to write.”

“She’s right. What’s stopping you?”

I chewed my cheek, debating how much to tell him. “I started something a few months ago. I wrote half a book. I was on a spree, writing all night. It felt so good. It just flowed out of me. And then my laptop fried. I lost it all. It was devastating. It kind of stole my thunder.”

“Get a new one,” he said simply.

I snorted. “I can’t just drop three thousand dollars on a new laptop, Roman. That’s not how real life works for most people.”

His expression shifted, a mix of surprise and something else I couldn’t quite place. “I’ll get you a new one.”

“No,” I said quickly, holding up a hand. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” he asked, genuinely baffled.

“Because,” I said, smiling despite myself. “That’s not how this works.”

“I don’t think a laptop costs that much, and even if it cost ten grand, big deal,” he said. “I can afford it. You need something to do.”

“No, thanks.” I flicked some bubbles at him. “Oops,” I said innocently.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Kaira.”

“Oh, I think I can handle you.”

“Is that a challenge?” Roman asked, his eyebrows arching slightly.

I felt a spark of something—excitement, maybe a hint of danger—run through me. “Maybe it is,” I replied, holding his gaze.

He took a step closer, and suddenly the kitchen felt much smaller. The playful tension between us shifted, becoming something more charged. I swallowed, wondering if he was going to kiss me again. I wanted him to kiss me. But I didn’t want him to kiss me and run out on me again.

Instead, he stepped back and tossed a dish towel at me.

I caught the towel, my heart still racing from our near moment. The charged atmosphere dissolved as quickly as it had appeared, leaving me slightly breathless and confused.

“I have work to do in my study. I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight, Kaira.”

“Goodnight, Roman.”

I couldn’t help but feel like we had just narrowly avoided something significant—or perhaps created more tension between us. By the time the kitchen was spotless, it was late, and I was exhausted. It had been a good night. Dinner was amazing and I felt like Roman and I had made big strides in our relationship. Not that it was a relationship, but we could at least be friends.

Roman was a prickly dude, but I did see his soft underbelly. Maybe I was a glutton for punishment, but I felt bad for the man. Yes he had money, power, and looks, but he was lonely. I wanted to try and bring him a little joy in this life. He deserved it.

I turned off the lights and climbed the stairs, briefly pausing at the double doors. I did vaguely remember him getting just a little testy when I asked what was in the room. It made me very curious, but I walked away. I didn’t want to rock the boat.