TIAGO'S HEART: A Billionaire Romance (NIGHT OF THE KINGS Book 17) by Shayne Ford

Author:Shayne Ford [Ford, Shayne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-08-13T22:00:00+00:00

10

TIAGO

The street is empty, and the pavement is covered in frosted snow when the cab comes to a smooth stop in front of my building.

I pay the fare, tell the driver to keep the change and climb out when a Bentley parked a few feet away from me snags my eye.

I lift the collar of my jacket and briskly walk past it, sweeping the tinted window with my gaze when I hear my name called out.

“Tiago.”

I instantly recognize his voice.

I come to a sudden halt and turn around just as a dark-haired man climbs out of the Bentley.

He sports a sharp-looking suit and a white dress shirt.

“James?”

He closes the gap between us, his eyes holding mine.

“Do you have a moment?” he asks.

I search his eyes. The man doesn’t let out much.

“Yeah... Sure. Let’s get inside,” I say, gesturing to the entrance.

“Did you call me?” I ask as we walk across the lobby and near the bank of elevators.

“Yeah, I did.”

I pat my pockets, looking for my phone when I remember that I tossed it into my gym bag.

I fish it out as we enter the elevator.

Absently, I press my floor number while I sweep the screen with my thumb and notice a couple of missed calls and Eve’s last message.

Eve: James is coming to your place.

I palm my phone and push it into my pocket.

“Everything okay?” James asks.

“Yes. Everything’s fine. What brings you here?” I ask as we exit the elevator a few moments later.

“You,” he says laconically.

I open the door to my apartment and invite him in.

He takes a few steps in and stops in the middle of the room while I look around. For the most part, the place looks neat, although the signs of the last night party are easily noticeable.

My eyes set on the drawings first.

I collect them and slip them into a box before I plop my duffel bag on a chair.

“Are you still drawing?” he asks as I shove the box into a drawer.

“Uh-huh,” I mutter. “What would you like to drink?”

“What you have,” he says without looking at me.

He takes a seat on the sofa while I head to the bar. I return a few moments later, carrying two glasses of scotch.

I hand him one.

“You had company?” he asks, tipping his chin and pointing to the torn dress crumpled on one of the armchairs.

A knowing smile lines his lips.

I mumble a response as I swiftly collect Eve’s dress and place it on the side table.

He peels his eyes away from the pile of red fabric while I sink into my seat and lean back. I bring my glass to my lips as he observes me in silence.

He reads my eyes for a few moments before he speaks.

“So, how are things with you?”

“Good,” I say, nervously. “I can’t complain,” I add as I set my glass on the side table. “What brings you to New York? Business? Pleasure?”

“A little bit of both. There’s an auction at Christie’s on Monday morning, and my wife wanted to visit her friend.

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