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I end the call.
Grabbing the handle of my case, I go into the hotel foyer. I’m too angry to take much notice of the place, but I’m aware of metal-framed, reeded-glass partitions and high ceilings with bright lighting that make me think of Exeter cathedral before I find the elevator.
I travel up to floor forty-one. I’m shaking now, trying to hold in my emotion, as the numbers gradually climb.
When I get to the floor, I go out and look up and down the corridor. There are only two doors—one to the left, and the other to the right. I go right to number two. Then I pause.
Leaving my case and flight bag outside the door, I walk down the corridor to the end. Out of the window, I can see straight across to the Sky Tower.
I can’t go into Titus’s apartment like this. I’m so angry, mainly because Dad’s words hit right to the center of my fears. He was right. Titus isn’t a schoolboy anymore. Just look at this fucking apartment block. He’s a billionaire CEO; why on earth would he be interested in me? I’m sure he only asked me to stay here out of pity. He’s probably already regretting the offer. Maybe I should go back down to the lobby and get myself a drink while I think about this.
“Heidi?”
I spin around. Titus is standing there, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, watching me.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Not really.” I glare at him. He looks so fucking gorgeous. I want this man more than life itself.
Without warning, emotion explodes inside me, and I burst into tears.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Titus
Grabbing the handle of Heidi’s case, I hold my other hand out to her. “Come inside.”
Pressing her fingers to her lips, she moves forward a few steps, then stops and says something. Her voice comes out as a squeak.
“I think only dogs could hear that,” I reply and, palm uppermost, flick my fingers up. “Please come inside.”
She picks up her flight bag, puts her hand in mine, and I lead her into the apartment.
Once she’s inside, she drops her flight bag, and I leave her case next to it. “Come and sit down,” I instruct, leading her through to the living room.
Wiping both her cheeks, she stops in the middle and looks around, eyes wide. “Holy shit. Look at this place.”
I glance around, seeing it through her eyes. Floor-to-ceiling glazing means the apartment has a spectacular sweeping view across the city, and is full of daylight. The living area has a plush gray carpet with a cream suite, while gray and cinnamon-colored cushions bring a touch of color. Chevron timber flooring, porcelain tiles, and lots of gray marble in the kitchen give it a striking design with clean lines. The dining table, where I also work, has cinnamon-colored chairs, and a beautiful view of the harbor.
“It’s nice,” I concede.
She gives a short laugh. “Yeah, Titus, it’s very nice.”
I take her hand again and lead her over to the sofa. She sinks onto the middle cushion, and I sit next to her. Her spine is stiff. Resentment and anger oozes out of her.
“What happened?” I ask. “Did Mack say something?”
She shakes her head and puts her face in her hands. “I called Mum, and Dad answered.”
“Oh…” I watch her as she fights for control. “Do you want to tell me what he said?”
She bends her head, sinking her hands into her hair. Then she lifts her head, leaning her elbows on her knees and giving me a small smile. “Let’s just say he has the gift of making me doubt my sanity.”
I frown. I’ve deliberately not pushed her to talk about her father before, because I can see how much even thinking about him upsets her. But now I want to know.
“Come on,” I say, “You can talk to me.”
She gives me a mutinous glance. “I don’t want to.”
