Page 98 of Titus

“Don’t you pride yourself on last-minute events? Salvaging them?” he said with a disgusting, slippery smile. “You can handle a delayed meeting because I don’t want to be in the presence of someone who insults me in front of Titus Hawk.”

There were so many fucking things I wanted to say in response. Instead, I followed my instinct and gut and answered him truthfully.

I stood up and grabbed my clutch, “Consider this me dismissing myself from this dinner, from your presence, and from your event.”

“You can’t just up and quit…” he nearly shouted.

“I think you’re watching me do just that, Mr. Jameston,” I said. “Good night.”

I marched across the floor, flustered and pissed. Shit. I hadn’t even considered that the little fucker would likely try to fuck with my lease and get me kicked out of his daddy’s building. At this point, I didn’t fucking care. I would be at a godawful low if I stayed here and tolerated that shit for another second.

“Catalina,” Titus said as I stepped into the elevator. “What the hell just happened back there?”

“I quit on the guy,” I said, my nerves flustered, but somehow, as the elevator doors closed behind us, I felt soothed by his presence.

His cologne filled the elevator, so rich and masculine it nearly made my knees buckle.

“I’m surprised you were working for that dipshit. Valet?” he asked before pressing the button.

“Yes, and you don’t have to ride the elevator down with me,” I said with a half smile.

He closed the gap between us, his tall, masculine frame towering over me. “There are a lot of things I don’t have to do, preciosa,” he said, his eyes studying mine. “But for you? I will do anything.”

“Anything?” I tried to play back.

That damn smile I couldn’t get out of my head from the other night returned to his mouth.

“Anything.”

Shit. I couldn’t do this. I was already unraveling. And flirting with him? While he was wearing this damn suit? The unbuttoned collar… no tie?

One more minute trapped in this elevator with him, and I was genuinely going to make catastrophic decisions.

“Are you still considering asking me for something?” he asked as the elevator doors whispered open.

I sighed. “It’s been good seeing you tonight,” I said honestly. “I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

His eyes immediately turned molten gold, and I had to step out of this elevator and breathe air that didn’t carry his cologne.

“Allow me to walk you to your car,” he said. “I don’t think I’m quite ready to part ways with you yet, Ms. Veléz.”

Everything in me was screaming to protect myself from this man, but I swear, every way he acted was perfect. Too perfect. Too good to be true, and that was the scariest part of me placing my hand in the bend of his arm and honoring his request.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

I knew I was fucked when all it took was being alone in the elevator with Cat—seeing her eyes, smelling her perfume, and hearing her voice—to calm me down.

Of all the people I’d run into in my lifetime, I’d encountered my share of incompetent people, but Christian Jameston? I didn’t have a low enough category to file that piece of shit into.

The only reason I didn’t throw him the fuck out of my hotel after he dared to speak to me that way was that I didn’t want the bastard taking it out on Catalina. More than that, I had a feeling it would put me in a bad light with the woman.

Instead, she throttled his ass for me. I thought all was well until after I’d left the table and she was about to leave the hotel, but it seemed I was wrong. I’d already contacted my head of security and instructed him to deploy his team to remove the man and ensure he was permanently banned from reentering the hotel. I would’ve relished the chance to kick his ass out myself, but making sure Catalina was okay was more important.

What the fuck did Jameston say after I left him sitting there?

“What just happened?” Sebastian asked after I returned to my seat.

I didn’t look over at my friend but instead took the bourbon the waiter set down, sipped it, and watched my security remove the man from my lounge.