Valentine’s Billionaire Auction

Chapter 32

32

ROMAN

T he board meeting had gone better than I expected. For months, I had been under fire. People hated me and therefore hated my company. The numbers had been all over the place—volatile and uncertain. But today, the reports showed steady growth. Public perception was improving. Investments were back on the rise. It seemed that my engagement to Kaira and the accompanying media buzz were finally paying off.

I leaned back in my chair, taking a moment to appreciate the victory. In this world of corporate sharks, every win was hard-earned. A member from my PR team gave a recap about the latest positive media coverage surrounding our engagement. They were practically giddy about how well Kaira was playing her part.

As if on cue, my mind drifted to her. The woman who had somehow transformed my sterile mansion into something that felt almost like a home. The mac and cheese dinner. The way she’d engaged with the staff. Her dreams of writing. Her unexpected kindness.

I only half-listened to the other board members pepper the PR guy with questions about what was working and what wasn’t. They were talking about putting Kaira and me here and there like we were actual chess pieces they were moving around on a board. I barely paid attention.

After the meeting, I officially excused myself and headed to my own office, where I closed the door behind me and sat behind my desk. I felt myself smiling. Like actually smiling. It was a little strange. I could tell myself it was the good meal the night before. I never ate like that.

My thoughts drifted back to Kaira. I wasn’t sure what to make of her. She was unlike any woman I had ever met. There was a realness to her, a comfortable confidence, that made her stand out. She didn’t try too hard, didn’t put on airs. She was just… Kaira.

I found myself wanting to know more about her. To understand what made her tick. To see the world through her eyes, even if just for a moment.

I drummed my fingers on the desk, thinking about what I could do to show her how much I appreciated her. I still felt like shit after the night I walked out on her without so much as a thank you for rocking my world. She’d only been pretending to be with me for a couple of weeks and it was already having a positive impact on my public persona as well as in my life.

That gave me an idea. I turned to my computer and started my research. With my gift purchased on the way to my office, I found myself wanting to celebrate. I messaged Kaira.

On my way home. Got something for you. Feel like going out for dinner tonight?

Her reply came quickly: What did you get me? Another dress? And yes, dinner sounds perfect.

I quickly typed out a response. I’ll be home around five.

I watched the little bubbles appear and waited. Do I get dressed or did you get me something I’m supposed to wear?

That made me feel a little guilty. I had been a little heavy-handed. It was our agreement, but tonight, I didn’t want to worry about getting our picture taken and a flowery write-up in some stupid blog. Tonight, I just wanted to go out with her—Kaira. Not the fake fiancée.

Wear whatever you want. Something nice.

She replied with a happy face.

My office line rang. I glanced at the time. It was a scheduled call. I put on my game face and picked it up. Throughout the call, I forced myself to stay focused on the subject at hand. All I heard was blah, blah, money. Blah, blah, forecasts.

I finished up the call and quickly gathered my things, eager to get home and see Kaira. Thankfully, traffic was mild. I didn’t think I could handle another gridlock kind of day.

When I got home, the house was quiet. Too quiet. I checked the kitchen first but she wasn’t there. I went upstairs and knocked on her bedroom door. She wasn’t there either. I headed back downstairs and found her in the library, sitting in one of the chairs with a notebook in her lap. She wasn’t reading, as I’d expected, but scribbling furiously in the notebook. She looked so focused, her brow furrowed as she chewed on the end of her pen. I hated to interrupt her.

But I wasn’t about to wait.

“Busy?” I asked, stepping inside.

She startled, then smiled up at me. Her hair was a bit of a mess. I had a feeling it started up, but with her frantic scribbling and obviously deep thought, it was now more down than up. It was cute. She had a spot of ink on her cheek, but I wasn’t going to point that out.

“I’ve been outlining ideas for my story,” she said. “I have all these ideas in my head. Characters are screaming at me. I can’t think straight until I promise them I will write their story one day. For now, I’m just getting the basics on paper. I’m hoping that will quiet the voices.”

“You hear voices?” I asked with just a little concern.

She laughed softly. “Not those kinds of voices. Just characters that want to be stars.” She looked at me then frowned. “Is it five already? I’m sorry. I thought I set my alarm for four so I could get ready for dinner. I must have worked straight through it.”

“It’s not five. I’m home early.”

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine.” I walked closer and held out the sleek black box I’d been holding behind my back. “I figured you might need something to help you with your writing unless you want to go back a few hundred years and write it all out.”

Her gaze narrowed suspiciously. “Roman, what did you do?”

Without a word, I placed the box in her lap. She hesitated, her fingers hovering over the lid before she finally flipped it open. Her gasp was audible as she stared at the gift. Her eyes widened and she started to shake her head. She pulled out the brand-new laptop. Top of the line with all the bells and whistles.

“Oh my God.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Roman, this is too much.”

“It’s not,” I said, sitting across from her. “You can’t write your book without the right tools. Consider it an investment.”

Her hands trembled as she traced the edges of the laptop, and then, to my utter shock, tears welled up in her eyes. “Thank you,” she said, her voice cracking. “Thank you so much. I don’t know what to say. This is so nice.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to tears—happy or otherwise—but I reached out, awkwardly patting her shoulder. “It’s just a computer.”

“It’s not just a computer,” she argued, laughing through her tears. “It’s… it’s everything. It’s a chance. It’s an opportunity. I don’t want pity, but I don’t get a lot of opportunities in my life. This is so generous. So kind. I’m speechless.”

I helped her set it up, watching as her excitement grew with each step.

“It’s a touchscreen,” I said.

“My last laptop was circa two thousand ten. It was a brick. This is amazing. I can’t believe you did this for me.”

“Well, you’re going to need it,” I replied. “You have a book to write.”

“I promise I’ll put it to good use.”

“I know you will.” I stood, gesturing toward the door. “Now, go get ready. I’m taking you to dinner.”

We both headed upstairs to change. It only took me about ten minutes. I went back downstairs to wait for her. I worked in the study until it was time. When she wasn’t in the foyer, I walked back upstairs to her room. The door was slightly ajar. I caught sight of her standing in front of the mirror, struggling with the zipper of her dress. The fabric clung to her curves. The sight of her made my throat dry.

I couldn’t look away. God, she was beautiful.

She must have sensed me there because she turned her head, catching my gaze. “Roman?”

“Sorry,” I said, stepping back. “I didn’t mean to?—”

She smiled at me and gestured for me to walk into her room. “It’s okay. Actually…” She turned her back to me, sweeping her hair to one side. “Can you help me with this?”

I hesitated for half a second before stepping inside. My fingers brushed against the warm skin of her back as I tugged the zipper up. The urge to reverse the motion and let the dress fall was almost unbearable, but I clenched my jaw and focused. I promised her dinner. I could not keep ravishing her. It was confusing for both of us.

“All done,” I said, my voice rougher than I intended.

She turned, her smile soft. “Thank you.”

I nodded, stepping back. “You look stunning.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she laughed nervously. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

I held out my arm for her to take. I led her downstairs and out to the waiting car.

Dinner was at a quiet, out of the way restaurant—a place I knew would offer us the privacy we needed. Kaira seemed surprised as we stepped inside, glancing around at the understated decor.

“This isn’t your usual scene,” she said as we sat at a corner table.

“No, it’s not,” I admitted. “This dinner is for us, not the media.”

Her cheeks turned pink. “You’re full of surprises tonight. I like this side of you.”

I felt my lips twitch upward in a smile. “Don’t get used to it.”

She laughed, the sound music to my ears. “I’ll take what I can get.”

As we perused the menu, the conversation flowed easily between us. Gone was the stiff formality that usually characterized our interactions. Instead, there was a growing sense of comfort and familiarity. Like we were actual friends. She was so easy to be around.

“So, what’s your plan for this new laptop?” I asked, taking a sip of my wine.

She inhaled. “Write. I plan on writing. I’ll figure out how to use those programs, but usually, I’m just a Word girl. I don’t mess with all the formatting and what not.”

“Do you have a story in mind?”

She grinned. “I do.”

“But you’re not going to tell me.”

“Not yet. I’m guessing you’re not a fan of romance novels anyway.”

I shrugged. “No, but it’s different when I know it’s a story coming from you.”

“That makes it worse for me,” she said.

“Why?”

“Because it’s kind of embarrassing. It’s very vulnerable.”

“I won’t read it if you don’t want me to, but if you do want me to, I’d be happy to.”

Our meals were delivered shortly after. We ate and talked a bit about the weather and the usual things. She never brought up the sex and my reaction. She either forgot about it or preferred to ignore it. I was grateful for that because I had no idea what to say about it.

“I can’t believe it’s almost been a month,” I said as the server cleared our plates. “And Valentine’s Day is next week.”

“It doesn’t feel like it’s been that long.”

“No,” I agreed, my gaze lingering on hers. “It doesn’t.”

We sat in comfortable silence for a moment before she said, “Thank you, Roman. For tonight, for the laptop… for everything.”

“Thank you. For teaching me how to let go a little. I’m looking forward to the next five months.”

Her smile widened, and for the first time in years, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

The rain started as we pulled into the driveway—a rare occurrence in LA. We stepped out of the car together, but instead of making a mad dash to the door, I glanced up at the sky, feeling the cool drops against my face.

Anthony pulled away, honking twice in his usual goodbye.

I stopped abruptly, grabbing her hand. She turned to me, her expression questioning.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing,” I said, pulling her closer. “Just this.”

Before she could respond, I leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss. She melted against me, her arms wrapping around my neck as the light drizzle turned into a full rainstorm. I barely noticed the rain. I was completely focused on her. Her lips were soft, warm, and tasted faintly of the wine we’d shared at dinner.

I deepened the kiss, my hands sliding to her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space between us. The rain fell harder, drenching us completely, but neither of us cared. Kaira clung to me, her hand sliding up to the back of my neck as we kissed. I had never felt a connection like this with anyone before. Something about Kaira broke down my carefully constructed walls, leaving me open and exposed.

When we finally pulled apart, she laughed breathlessly. “You’re full of surprises tonight.”

I smiled, brushing a strand of wet hair from her face. “Get used to it.”