Page 32 of Serving the Mogul

It had taken a long time to accept my mother’s choice. She could have gone to Connor at any time, and he would have helped. No doubt. But, back when it happened, I only understood that my mother had died, and she left me with a guy I didn’t even know.

It wasn’t until Gianni had steamrolled her way into my life that I’d even acknowledged the other kids Connor had fathered. She was the person who knew me best, but it had taken her years to get through the many walls I’d built.

Those walls had kept me on the sidelines in high school and much of college. While my brothers were learning to flirt, I waited for girls to notice me so I could dump them.

I’d never had to work in a relationship because I’d never wanted one. Even what Gianni and I have, which I valued more than just about anything, wasn’t something I went after. Now, I would fight like hell to protect it. But she was the one who did the work.

To say that I was treading on new ground with Tina would be an understatement. Six months ago…hell, six days ago, if somebody had told me I’d be twisting inside out to reach a woman, I’d have suggested they seek mental health advice.

However, here I was, leaning against my car in front of a hotel I was in the midst of purchasing, all for one reason. She had a passion for history and a love of older buildings.

I knew that because of interviews she’d given for local architectural publications in California. She’d even won an award in San Francisco for her renovation of a historical home, turned into a B&B. In the interview that followed, she’d confessed her passion for restoring old buildings. The bigger, the better.

Here I was, ready to spend millions on a project, just to get a woman to talk to me.

“You’ve lost it, man,” I muttered, checking my watch. A whole five minutes had passed since I’d last checked. Another half-hour before Tina would get here.

Today, of all days, the traffic hadn’t sucked, and I’d made it here in record time.

My phone chirped with a notification.

The real estate agent handling the hotel sale offered, once again, to join Tina and me on a walkthrough. I’d done everything short of telling her the deal was off if I couldn’t have an hour alone to discuss the project with ‘my’ designer. But that didn’t stop the woman from calling or texting several times.

I ignored the message and opened my email.

At the very least, it would make time fly by.

Seventeen emails later, I noticed a flashy red paint sports coupe coming up. I caught sight of Tina’s profile, and something in my chest twisted.

Forcing myself to relax, I closed my email and tucked away my phone.

Tina parked her car.

Then she just sat there.

From where I stood, I could only see the back of her head. It took more restraint than I liked not to stride over there and open the door. Being a gentleman had nothing to do with the urge, either. I had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate the gesture; otherwise, I would have done it.

But she’d already put up a wall between us, and I would not give her more bricks to add to it.

I counted the seconds waiting for her to climb out.

By the time I reached one hundred thirty-seven, I was about to climb out of my skin and throw caution in a dark hole where it belonged.

Before I could shove off my car and stalk over to hers, the door opened.

One long leg, then another emerged, Tina’s lithe, sexy form moving with a fluid, effortless grace as she climbed out. Without looking at me, she ducked back in, head first, to retrieve something.

I took advantage of the position and eyed her ass, remembering the curves in my hands, the firm, soft length of her legs, the taste of her pussy.

My cock came to a hard, aching readiness, and I swore mentally, turning toward my car under the pretext of studying the old hotel, just a few short yards away, waiting for our inspection.

Man, the place was a fucking mess.

I was out of my mind.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long,” Tina said.

“You didn’t.” I refused to tell her I’d gotten here almost forty-five minutes early. “Looks like you dressed for the job.”

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