“What about you?”
“Born and raised.” I studied her face like a scientist looking into a microscope. I wanted to study all of her reactions so I could read her later. For instance, now I knew the face she made when she lied—because she just lied to me. “Christopher too?”
“He was born in Kansas. We met a few years later on.”
They weren’t related. So that meant one of them was adopted into the foster family. Or there was some other explanation. I wanted to come out and ask her bluntly, but that seemed too harsh. If she asked me personal questions, I wouldn’t appreciate it. “Did he have a good time with Patricia?”
“He said they hooked up in the bathroom.”
She was easy. Too easy, actually. “Did they meet up again?”
“I doubt it. Christopher isn’t really the dating type.”
Was he the same type as me? I didn’t detect any dominance from him, but I could be wrong. There was no reason for him to act that way around his sister. “Good for him. Glad he had some fun at the gala.”
“She almost tried to have her fun with you.”
I pretended not to know what she was referring to. If we continued down this road, I would have to admit I fucked Patricia once. And I didn’t want to talk about other women when I was with Rome. “What does Christopher do?”
“He manages mutual funds.”
“Good for him.”
“He seems to like it, even though it sounds painfully boring to me.”
“Some people are into that—numbers.”
“Do you do anything else besides run Humanitarians United?”
I hated lying and avoided it at all costs. It made me feel like less of a man. If you had to hide who you were, then you were weak. But I couldn’t tell Rome the truth—not this early on. “I have a few hobbies.”
“Like what?”
“Reading, biking, hiking, wine, and classical music.”
“We have a few things in common. I love reading and playing the piano.”
My fingers tightened around my glass at that response. The idea of her sitting at the piano and hitting the keys with her slender fingertips made my body burn. Knowing she made something beautiful with her body was one of the biggest turn-ons I’d ever experienced. I wanted to throw her on a grand piano and make some music together. “I’d love to hear you play sometime.”
“Sure. Sometime.”
I detected that distance again. She told Taylor how much she wanted me, but she suddenly hit the brakes and kept space between us. I still hadn’t figured out why, but I would know eventually. The mystery surrounding her drew me in. I always dug up information on my partners before I engaged them. Some had a past I couldn’t overcome, and some had tendencies that told me they were emotionally unstable. Isabella’s file was clean, but she ended up being an emotional wreck anyway. With Rome, I went into it nearly blind, and that only made me more interested in discovering her secrets.
“What’s your brother like?”
A shithead. “We look a lot alike. Anyone who sees us together knows we’re brothers. I’m the cool, rational one, and he’s the immature one. And, of course, I’m simply better looking. That’s the biggest difference between us.”
She smiled at my cocky comment. “I have a feeling you’re right. Can’t picture someone better looking than you.”
My stomach tightened at the compliment. It was the kind I’d never received before. Women told me to fuck them and make them come, but no one had ever said anything so generous while sitting across from me in a public place. “Then you haven’t seen all the underwear models on billboards in this city.”
She shrugged. “They all look the same to me—photoshopped.”
God, I wanted to fuck her. “Thank you for the compliment.”
We ate our dinner while keeping our conversation going. When we stuck to meaningless topics like music and film, my cock behaved itself and remained soft in my trousers. Sometimes I had to go into a Zen mode so I wouldn’t grab her by the neck and bend her over the table. It took serious concentration for me to remain in control of my faculties. This woman turned me into a wild animal, a caveman. All I knew how to do was fuck.
“Is there a story behind your generosity?”
I didn’t understand the question, so I took a moment to figure it out. “Not sure what you mean.”
“Did you know someone who struggled when you were growing up? Or did you have some kind of experience with being in need? I feel like the people who help others the most are those who’ve suffered through it themselves.”
I had my experience with abuse, but that wasn’t the underlying reason for my behavior. I was related to the coldest and cruelest man I’d ever met, and it was my responsibility to erase the horrible things he did. Jackson resented me for getting most of the inheritance, and when he realized I gave it away to charity, he wasn’t happy. But if he knew why I got that money, he would shut his mouth. “No. The inheritance I received was more than any single person could ever need. I didn’t want to keep it all for myself. That’s all.”