Page 17 of The Billionaire Invitation

And for that moment, as she held hands with him in the rain, she felt like they were in college again. That the world was full of promise and possibility.

Dangerous thoughts, those.

But she didn’t let go of him.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Dante had spent years convincing himself that he’d dodged a bullet. That being single had allowed him to run the Moretti Foundation with a level of commitment a wife or girlfriend simply wouldn’t have permitted.

But when Honesty had brought up the day he’d told her he was leaving, and when she’d looked up at him, out of breath after running, raindrops sitting on her cheeks, he’d had no choice but to call himself on his own bullshit.

He’d loved her. He’d thrown that love away like an idiot. And for what? The guise of family loyalty that had come with a wad of money and a built-in purpose so that he wouldn’t have to go looking for one.

“Here we are,” he called over the rain as he pulled the door open to the Crane Hotel. An attendant rushed over with an umbrella, but they were already inside.

As the door whispered shut behind them, the buzz of the city dissipated. It was as if noise wasn’t permitted inside these hallowed glass walls. As if the legendary flagship Crane Hotel forbade it.

“Wow. I’ve seen pictures but…wow.” Wide-eyed, Honesty took in the entryway, which opened up to a lobby with a cathedral ceiling. The windows, streaked with rain, were at least three stories high.

White leather couches and square glass tables were clustered into conversation-style seating areas in the lobby. A shiny white block of marble was a work of modern art functioning as the front desk. Beyond it, tucked discreetly off to one side, was the bar.

He slipped out of his wet jacket. “You’ve never been inside the Crane Hotel?”

“I don’t need a hotel. I’m local. Plus, if I needed a hotel, the Crane wouldn’t be my first choice.” She elbowed him lightly.

“Understood.” His surname held a lot of weight, an advantage—or in this case, disadvantage—he often took for granted.

“Not because you’re a Crane. Everything doesn’t revolve around you, you know.” She rolled her eyes playfully. “Some of us are more frugal than others.” She rubbed her fingertips together—the universal sign for expensive.

“Right.”

She started in the direction of the bar. “That said, I’ve been missing out. It’s beautiful.”

“You should see my penthouse.”

“Your arrogance knows no bounds.” She gave him a cheeky smile that popped one shallow dimple.

“Believe it or not, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“I don’t believe it.”

The bar area honored the style of the hotel—clean lines and glass—but strayed from monochrome white with its long, glossy black counter. He pulled one of the leather high-back chairs out for her to sit. There were two businessmen on the opposite side of the bar, lowball glasses in their hands. Other than them and the bartender, Dante and Honesty were alone.

She slipped one button free on her tailored black jacket and shrugged it off. Dante took it from her as she swept the length of her hair to one side. His eyes caressed the delicate curve of her biceps, then followed that line to her forearm, and stopped at the tips of fingers. She was a work of art in a sleeveless cream-colored top.

A memory stirred. One of her hands on his body. Of her arm resting on his chest while she drew circles on his pecs with her fingers. Of lying in his bed, watching the morning light creep in after a long night of very little sleep—and not because they’d been studying.

He shut his eyes against the memory as loss hollowed out his gut. He silently wished she hadn’t broached the topic of their college years as he hung her jacket and his on the hooks behind them.

He also had to mentally shake off the vision of her wearing far less than she wore now. Which wasn’t something he’d had to do for years.

“Plenty of room for your laptop.” He handed over her bag, hoping the banal conversation starter would put them back on track.

“Yes.” She pulled the laptop out of her bag. “This will work great.”

Her polite business tone was back. He didn’t like it. Which is probably why he threw aside his good sense to lean close and say, “I’m curious. How did you get more beautiful in the two days since I’ve seen you?”

Her smile broke free as he took his seat next to her. There was a light in her eyes that wasn’t the least bit polite, but it shuttered the instant the bartender approached. It was so much better than the distance he’d tried to create a moment ago.