Chapter 33 #2
She stepped away from the women, reaching into her purse before glancing down at her phone.
Shit. Was something wrong with her sister?
The relaxed warmth vanished from her face as tension replaced it. Not dramatic panic. Worse. Controlled stress. The kind that women like Catalina carried quietly while pretending everything was manageable.
Without even realizing it, I’d already stood up from my chair.
“Titus?” Wyatt called after me.
I ignored him completely.
Cat looked up as I approached her near the edge of the terrace overlooking the ocean.
“Everything alright?” I asked quietly.
She exhaled softly, then offered me a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Work issue.”
“What kind of work issue?”
“One of the luxury floral installations for tomorrow’s event apparently never arrived from San Francisco, and now everyone’s panicking because the client is convinced the entire event is ruined.” She rubbed her forehead lightly. “I should’ve been with them. Damn it.”
I stared at her for half a second. “Get your purse.”
She blinked once. “What?”
“Get your purse, Catalina.”
A small laugh escaped her. “Titus, you don’t have to—”
“I know.” My eyes held hers calmly. “I want to.”
Something in her expression softened.
And right then, standing there beneath the glow of the terrace lights, the ocean crashing below us, I realized there was almost nothing I wouldn’t do for this woman anymore.
The elevator doors opened directly into my penthouse suite at Horizon just after midnight. Catalina stepped out beside me, looking equally exhausted and beautiful after the chaos of San Francisco.
The floral disaster had somehow turned into three vendors, two emergency meetings, one screaming socialite, and a last-minute redesign in a warehouse near the bay. And Catalina? She handled it all like she’d been born for pressure.
I watched her kick off her heels near the entryway, then rub the back of her neck.
“Tired?” I asked.
She looked over at me with a soft laugh. “I think I’m running on caffeine, adrenaline, and blind optimism right now.”
I swear the woman somehow looked even more attractive when exhausted.
“Sit down before you collapse,” I said, loosening the collar of my shirt.
She smiled as she walked farther into the penthouse, with city lights stretching endlessly beyond the glass walls overlooking Los Angeles.
God help me. Seeing her in my space still did something strange to me, as if she belonged there far more naturally than she should.
“I just need to go over tomorrow’s revised floral placement once more,” she said, grabbing her iPad from her bag. “Then I promise I’ll stop professionally spiraling.”
“It appears you’re merely in your zone and not even close to spiraling,” I said, acknowledging how well she handled this kind of pressure.
“Oh, I can absolutely lose it,” she muttered. “I just hide it under expensive clothes and lip gloss.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
Christ. I was starting to get seriously attached to this woman.
“There’s desk space in my office, just through those doors,” I said, pointing toward my bedroom, unable to go any further due to an incoming call.
It didn’t really matter because she moved toward my bedroom as if she were already comfortable there.
I glanced down at the caller ID and saw an unknown international number. Annoying.
“I need to take this,” I told her.
Catalina glanced up from her iPad. “Business?”
“When is it not?”
“Looks like we’re both on the clock tonight,” she laughed softly.
“I see a fantastic future for us together,” I said with a laugh.
“The perfect working couple who can’t even find time for a kiss,” she answered casually before disappearing into the bedroom.
Fuck. A kiss. How something so small could feel so enormous to me with this woman.
I stared after her for several seconds longer than necessary before finally answering the call. Unfortunately, within the first thirty seconds, I already knew exactly what it was. Europe.
By the time I ended the call nearly twenty minutes later, all traces of the evening’s relaxation had disappeared.
For the next three fucking weeks, possibly longer, I’d be in Monaco, Barcelona, and London, handling investor meetings and expansion discussions. These were the obligations that came with being Titus Hawk. The kind I normally handled unaffected.
But tonight, all I felt was irritation. Somehow, the idea of leaving suddenly felt significantly less appealing than it used to.
I loosened my tie further before walking toward the bedroom, already mentally preparing for another week of constant movement and pressure, but the moment I stepped into the room, I stopped.
Catalina had fallen asleep on my bed.
The soft glow from the bedside lamp illuminated her as she lay there, a cashmere throw drawn up around her, her iPad resting loosely against her chest, still showing event layouts and floral renderings.
Something in my chest tightened painfully at the sight. Seeing her safely on my bed, wrapped in my favorite soft blanket for warmth, did something to me I couldn’t explain.
Somehow, that image affected me more than any billion-dollar negotiation ever had. I slowly walked farther into the room, loosening the cuffs of my shirt.
She hadn’t even realized she’d fallen asleep.
One hand still lightly clutched the edge of the iPad as strands of dark hair spilled across my pillow.
My pillow.
Fuck.
I stared at her longer than I should have. Long enough for something dangerous to settle heavily into my chest again.
Longing. It wasn’t the usual lust I typically experienced. Hell, it wasn’t even possessiveness. It was all building up to something worse if I couldn’t keep these emotions in check.
Because somewhere between Malibu, San Francisco, and her falling asleep on my bed, Catalina Veléz had become the first thing in years to make the empire waiting outside these walls feel insignificant.
And that realization was catastrophic for a man like me.
Carefully, I removed the iPad from her hands and set it on the nightstand. She shifted softly beneath the blanket but didn’t wake as I made sure she was covered.
I should have left the room, gone downstairs, handled emails, and prepared for my trip to Europe in my formal office. I should’ve naturally returned to the version of myself that existed before her.
Instead, I sat quietly on the edge of the bed, watching the woman sleeping in it as the city glowed outside the windows behind us.
God help me. I hadn’t even left yet, and I already missed her.