Page 25 of The Kiss that Captured a Billionaire
“I want more than—” he started.
She shot him a pointed look and shook her head.
“One date—then we’ll see if there will be another,” she added.
“I’ll take it,” he said, exhaling a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Tomorrow morning—unless you want to?—”
She released a snort of laughter and shook her head again. He grinned at her swift, silent glare of admonishment.
It was worth trying.
“Tomorrow night,” she corrected, already stepping back. “I have a lot of work to do in the morning.”
He opened his mouth to ask what kind of work—but before he could, Mimi appeared in a cloud of designer perfume and sequins.
“Oh, Theo! There you are! Did you get a chance to meet my husband?” she beamed, tugging his arm with surprising strength for a woman pushing sixty.
He glanced back—just in time to see Rose disappearing into the crowd again, her tray back in hand, her ponytail swinging with each step.
Gone—like Cinderella at the stroke of midnight.
Only this time, she hadn’t left a glass slipper. She’d given a promise. One date.
As Mimi launched into a spirited monologue about her original casting of a character from her first production, Theo’s mind barely registered a word.
Because an idea had formed.
Something bold. Reckless, maybe. But that didn’t matter.
He wanted her.
Not just for a night. Not just for the chase.
All in.
If Rose thought one kiss—or one date—would satisfy him, she didn’t know how determined the Beast could be.
He was going to win her heart?—
And he wasn’t above using a bit of his money, power, and ruthlessness to get it.
He listened to Mimi Devan twaddle on before he turned to her. “Mrs. Devan—Mimi—I would like a tour of the theatre. I’m considering making a rather substantial donation.”
“Really? I—That would be lovely,” Mimi stammered, her eyes wide with excitement.
“Perhaps tomorrow morning?” he asked.
“Tomorrow morning—of course. Tomorrow would be absolutely doable,” Mimi preened, smiling brightly back at him.
“Wonderful. Will Rose be available as well?”
Mimi frowned, glancing around the room before her eyes landed on Rose, smiling and offering refreshments. His gaze had been locked on Rose the entire time.
“I—well, I suppose so. She does maintenance for the theatre,” Mimi replied.
“Good. Then she will know everything there is to know about it,” he said, pleased. “I didn’t catch Rose’s last name.”
“It’s Smythe—Rose Smythe,” Mimi’s husband answered.
