Wall Street Titan (Wall Street Titan #1) - Anna Zaires Page 0,33

that I will pay, both because I’m a man and because I’m filthy rich, and I don’t mind. It’s as it should be: if I’m with a woman, I take care of her.

Not with Emma, though. She didn’t make that assumption—nor did it feel like a game with her. She didn’t offer to pay; she simply did it, plopping down her cash before I could so much as look at the check. She was deadly earnest about it, too. It wasn’t a joke; for whatever reason, it mattered to her.

I take a calming breath and try to talk myself into looking away from her delicate profile. She’s still gazing out the window, her small hands clenched tightly in her lap and her curls wild and unruly around her freckled face. I don’t understand her, and I don’t understand my reaction to her. I want to reach over and scoop her up, to put her on my lap so I can feel the soft curve of her shapely ass against my groin. I want to tangle my fingers in that wild mane of hair and arch her head back, so I can kiss the pale white flesh of her throat, taste the pulse throbbing underneath that translucent-looking skin.

How have I not realized before how sexy petite, lushly curved women can be? When she was standing there, at the coat check, looking up at me with those startled gray eyes, it was all I could do not to bend down and grab her. To just lift her and carry her off like the delicious little prize she is. No other woman has ever elicited that urge in me—and certainly not Emmeline, with her sleek, elegant beauty.

I suck in another breath and finally succeed in dragging my gaze away from Emma. It’s pointless to compare the two women, because what I want from them is so different. Emma is a whim, an anomaly in a lifetime of self-discipline and rigid planning, while Emmeline is what I’ve always wanted, what I’ve worked toward since I was a little boy.

Since I made a vow to myself to never, ever fall for a woman like my mother.

Not that Emma is like her—at least as far as I can tell from our short acquaintance. My mother was impulsive and selfish, and I see little evidence of those traits in my companion. Nor is Emma an alcoholic. All she had to drink at dinner was water—a choice I heartily approve. I have nothing against moderate social drinking, but I can’t deny that when I see a woman imbibe more than a couple of glasses of wine, I get uncomfortable flashbacks to my vodka-and-vomit-soaked childhood.

To this day, I can’t stand vodka, even of the upscale variety.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out, glancing at the screen.

Fuck.

My inbox is blowing up with urgent messages from Jarrod Lee, my Chief Investment Officer. I must’ve forgotten to check my phone during dinner because there are five emails in a row. An opportunity to invest in high-risk municipal bonds has fallen into our lap, and he needs to know if we should pull the trigger, given our views on interest rates. I swiftly review the bond specs and fire off a reply authorizing the $700 million investment.

Our analysts expect the municipality to have a successful capital raise before the next Fed meeting, which means our investment should double in value before the bond market tanks on the interest rate hike.

I finish with the emails just as the car pulls up to the curb in front of Emma’s apartment. Getting out, I open the door on her side and help her out. Her hand lightly touches mine as she climbs out of the car, and I can’t help closing my fingers around that small palm, then holding it a second too long.

Her startled gaze flies up to mine again, and I feel a tremor pass through her as she pulls her hand away. “Marcus…” Her voice is decidedly unsteady. “I really need to—”

“Of course.” I give her a smile as I walk her to the door, though the newly awakened caveman inside me howls in frustration. “You have to go. I understand.”

She nods, fumbling inside her bag as we stop in front of the door. Extracting her keys, she looks up, adorably flushed. “I do. My cats need to be fed, and I have to get up early for work tomorrow, and—”

“Emma.” I stop her rambling with another deceptively calm