Page 24 of The Kiss that Captured a Billionaire
“I’m working,” she replied stiffly.
He looked down at the tray, then gently took it from her hands and set it on a nearby table.
“That’s better,” he said.
Her hands felt empty, leaving her feeling awkward and unsure. Her pulse pounded in her throat as she stared up at him.
“This isn’t a fairy tale,” she whispered.
His eyes gleamed. “Then why does it feel like one?”
It felt like one to him. All he wanted to do was sweep her into his arms and walk out of the damn theatre.
Just… scoop her up, carry her down the marbled steps like the Beast escaping into his castle with his Beauty, and shut the rest of the world out behind them.
She was right—this wasn’t a fairytale.
But damn if he didn’t feel like the monster in one. And she… she was the one thing tethering him to something good. Something unique.
Instead, Theo inhaled deeply, steadying himself. His fingers flexed at his sides. Patience—once a virtue he prided himself on—was proving far more elusive when Rose was in the same room. She made it hard to think. Hard to breathe.
“I’d like to see you again,” he said softly.
She tilted her head, her dark lashes briefly brushing her cheeks before she studied him with those soul-deep eyes. “Why?”
One word—simple, innocent. But it sucker-punched him.
Why?
No one had ever asked him that before. Ever. They’d smiled, flirted, angled for more, but never once questioned why he wanted to see them.
His mouth opened—then closed again.
Rose arched a delicate eyebrow. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue? It wasn’t a very difficult question, you know.”
A low chuckle slipped from her lips, warm and amused. But it wasn’t cruel. It was… delighted.
And that hit even harder.
He let out a quiet groan and rubbed the back of his neck. “God, this is bruising my ego. Even as a teenager, I didn’t have to work this hard.”
“Interesting—and disappointing if women fall that easily,” she mused, a frown creasing her brow. “Or, perhaps you simply have a weakness for women who like strong, wealthy, handsome men that aren’t picky. Honestly, there is so much to contemplate in that single admittance that it may take me a lifetime to analyze it,” she murmured, her voice a low hum, her smile barely there, but there was a wicked glimmer of amusement in them that made her eyes sparkle.
His cheeks flushed. His cheeks! He could feel the warmth rising from under his collar. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened—or if it ever had.
“You’re enjoying this far too much,” he accused, not quite able to hide the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
She shrugged one delicate shoulder. “Maybe a little.” She paused. “So… are you asking me out? Like—on a date?”
He nodded, clearing his throat. “Yes. I want to see you again. Outside of all… this.” He gestured to the swirl of people and champagne. “You and me. Just us.”
She hesitated, as if weighing the idea of whether they should be alone together.
He held himself still while she studied him again. For the first time in a long, long time, he felt… seen. Not as a billionaire. Not as Theo Kallistratos, the name on boardroom doors, glossy magazine covers, or tabloid pages. Just a man, standing in front of a woman, hoping she’d say yes.
Rose’s lips quirked, slow and deliberate. “One date.”
Relief crashed through him like a wave.
