Page 221 of Titus

“That’s exactly where I’m bringing you, mi amor,” he said.

We reached the second floor, and the atmosphere immediately changed. Seeing this part of the home made it easy to tell that the lower level was designed for entertaining.

Up here, it seemed, was a side of Titus Hawk that very few people had probably ever seen. Expensive art lined the halls, and books filled the shelves in recessed alcoves.

A framed picture of Titus, Wyatt, and Colton sat on a console table, and I slowed to look at it.

I wasn’t there for more than a few seconds before Titus gently guided me forward again.

“Later,” he said.

“Titus.”

“Later.”

I laughed in response because the man was clearly on a mission. At the end of the hallway, he opened a pair of double doors and stepped aside.

I walked into the room and stopped.

Damn.

The Pacific dominated the entire ocean-facing side of the bedroom. The sunset painted the water in shades of gold beyond the cliffs below, while the horizon stretched endlessly toward the sky.

The room itself was breathtaking and likely larger than my first home. Custom walnut paneling wrapped portions of the walls, while imported limestone framed a modern fireplace large enough to heat an entire apartment.

A private sitting area occupied one side of the room, perfectly positioned to watch the ocean. Beyond it sat a collection of books, artwork, and photographs gathered from around the world.

My attention immediately landed on the bed. Good Lord. The thing looked enormous. It was a custom king platform bed, elevated in the center of the room beneath a dramatic upholstered headboard that stretched nearly twelve feet toward the ceiling.

Layers of luxury bedding were arranged with the precision of a five-star suite, and everything looked impossibly expensive. The kind of room designed by people who simply purchased the very best version of everything without ever asking what it cost.

It was elegant, masculine, and powerful, and it was easy to see that it was Titus’s refuge. I completely understood why this would be the place he would want to come home to after being in custody.

I turned back toward him, the sunset now painting the room gold. Titus hadn’t moved; he simply stood there, watching me, not the ocean or looking around his room for the first time in weeks.

“What’s going through that brilliant mind of yours?” I asked.

A quiet laugh escaped him. “Nothing.”

His eyes moved over my face.

“You’ve been mostly quiet tonight,” I said, “and staring at me like that since dinner.”

“Can you blame me?” Something tightened in my chest as the smile faded from his face. “I wasn’t sure when I’d see you again.”

The confession hit harder than I expected because this wasn’t the bold man I knew and had come to love. He was softer and warmer, and I could feel the love this man held for me radiating off him.

I stepped closer to him, and his hands immediately found my waist. “I never stopped believing you’d come home.”

His eyes closed as if hearing those words meant more than he wanted to admit. When they opened again, something in them looked different, relief washing over his expression.

“I am deeply in love with you,” he said. “I know that might sound foolish, given how much time we’ve had together.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “I feel the same way,” I answered. “In fact, it felt like it came out of nowhere once I decided to stop fighting it.”

His hand gently traced a trail of goosebumps down my arm. “I’ve never felt anything like this before,” he admitted. “Knowing you feel the same way brings me more happiness than I can put into words.”

“Then you’re going to have to show me,” I said.