Page 125 of Titus

“I know.” His gaze stayed on me evenly. “My friends have wives who just so happen to be your friends. I did a little homework…”

He finished that with a wink and a smile.

Something in my chest tightened painfully.

This was so strange. A man had actually asked my friends about me just to surprise me with a meal he knew I’d love. No one did things like this for me. No one. Hell, this was what I did for everyone else.

“And dessert?” I asked softly.

That golden gaze flicked toward my mouth for a moment before returning to my eyes.

“Basque cheesecake.”

Heat climbed slowly into my cheeks for absolutely no reason.

Well, this is new. Jesus, is my face blood red right now?

The cello drifted softly through the Newport night around us as candlelight flickered between us across the table.

I took a sip of my wine. “What is this, honestly?” I finally said. “What made you take a sudden interest in me, of all people?”

“Truth?” he asked after a sip of his wine.

“Lies wouldn’t help anyone at this point,” I said with a laugh.

“I wanted to use you to get to Jameston.” His eyes stayed pinned on mine.

“Use me?” I answered, confused. “To get to that guy? How? Why?”

He smirked. “It was all nonsense,” he said dismissively. “I’ve had plenty of time to think about it. But I will admit, the driving force behind it all was that you simply intrigued me.”

“So now I’m⁠—”

“All of those scandalous ideas I had at the beginning,” he interrupted, “were simply an excuse to hire you exclusively. I believe it was your constant rejections that spurred me on.”

“And now?”

“And now I’m grateful for all of it.” His eyes grew more mysterious. “I’ve never met anyone like you. You, Catalina Veléz, intrigue me in ways no one else ever has.”

“I can’t believe you were going to use me to get to that idiot,” I laughed. “I should’ve known there was a reason you wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“As I said, that was all nonsense,” he took another sip. “But nonsense I’m thankful for, because somehow it led to this night we’re sharing.”

I had no words.

Titus suddenly rose and extended his hand. “A dance before dinner, preciosa?”

I gave in to the moment. “That sounds lovely.”

It honestly didn’t get more romantic than this.

The cello drifted through the night air as the yacht rocked gently beneath us. Titus’s hand rested against the small of my back, warm and firm through the silk of my dress as he guided me slowly across the deck, bathed in the glow of recessed lighting.

The cellist behind us began another song, the rich strings deepening into something achingly beautiful as Titus’s gaze lifted to mine. He took me into his arms and began to lead me in a slow dance.

“What is this song?” I asked softly.

Then his hand tightened slightly against my waist. “Bésame Mucho.”