Page 88 of Valentine’s Billionaire Auction

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.”