Page 89 of The Billionaires

I think he has, but I shake my head since this is more of a therapy situation, not information gathering on my part.

He proceeds to tell me that Novus Rome will not allow residents to keep their cars inside the community. Those who own personal cars will have to leave them in a parking lot outside Novus Rome. Inside, a fleet of self-driving electric cars will be the transportation of choice. No need for private garages, no air pollution, and everyone will be much safer since said cars will always follow the speed limit and communicate with each other and the roads in order to avoid any and all accidents.

“Wait,” I say, intrigued despite myself. “Novus Rome will have sensors in the sidewalks and roads?”

He nods excitedly.

“Sounds Orwellian,” I say.

He shrugs. “The data will only be used for car navigation and pedestrian safety.”

“Huh, okay. What’s your second-favorite feature?”

He talks about the superfast internet access everyone in Novus Rome will enjoy for free, even while hiking in the preserved woods.

Usually, I’d question the wisdom of having people plugged in like that when they’re trying to enjoy nature, but the limo stops, and my earlier goal of inviting him over to my place resurfaces its horny head, causing me to get tongue-tied once again.

“We’re here.” He gestures out the window, his expression unreadable.

“Yeah.” I know I should go, but I don’t move, not even when Elijah opens the door.

Worse yet, my cheeks flush, despite the fact that I haven’t said anything, let alone invited anyone anywhere.

Gah.

Since when am I such a scaredy cat? Why can’t I be bold, like his grandmother, who clearly asked a much younger man if she could tie him up before?—

“I’ll walk you to your door,” Lucius states.

“Thanks,” I blurt and finally move my ass out.

This is good. I have more time to summon my courage.

Except the whole walk to my place, I’m as silent as a Charlie Chaplin movie. Finally, there’s no more walk to be had, at which point I deliver my best conversational gambit to date: “This is a door. I mean, my door.”

The corners of his eyes smile. “I’m familiar with the concept of a door. Yours sounds special.”

I bite my lip. “You’ve probably designed some sort of smart door for the houses in Novus Rome. A door that probably greets you and opens on its own.” And maybe such a door would be able to invite fake boyfriends in when the owner is a chicken.

He moistens his lips—though it looks a bit like a wolf licking his chops. “That’s a great idea. I haven’t given smart doors much thought just yet.”

Shit. He looks like he wants to kiss me. Or is that wishful thinking on my part?

I suck in a calming breath. This is it. I’m going to get him inside. “My Murphy bed is stuck. Can you help?” I rattle out in one breath—just as he also says something.

“What did you say?” I ask, mentally chastising myself. Why Murphy bed? What was I thinking? Being in my bedroom, that’s way too brazen and obvious. Also, how do I now fake it being stuck?

“I asked if I could see your cactus again,” Lucius says. “I didn’t know how important it was to you when you gave me that tour. What was it you said? Something about Murphy’s Law?”

A huge, silly grin bursts out on my face. “Don’t worry about what I said. You can totally see my cactus.”

As I fumble with my keys, I can’t help wondering if “cactus” is code for something else. If so, the scientific name for butterfly pea—the plant that makes that nice blue tea—would work much better, since it’s Clitoria Ternatea, or simply Clitoria. Since Lucius is into Latin, he’d like that.

“There,” I say when the door is open wide. “Come inside.”

Damn it. Why does everything I say sound dirty all of a sudden?

He steps inside, strides over to El Duderino, and examines him very intently, seemingly with great appreciation.

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