Instead, I picked up my phone and Googled the number of a twenty-four-hour locksmith and a security company. Both agreed to be here within the hour.

I would feel safe in my own home, goddamn it.

I would not let him win.

THE NEXT DAY, I WALKED out of the banker’s office and into the lobby with the knowledge that it didn’t matter whether I wore a designer power suit and kick-ass pumps, or ratty old jeans and a T-shirt. I was wearing the former, and the business loan officer had still told me in no uncertain terms that there was no way in hell they’d lend me what I needed to buy Dirty Dog.

I doubted they’d loan me even ten dollars, and what I’d asked for was exponentially more. All my neatly calculated numbers and projections, and proof of past successful management and profit—none of it meant a damn thing because I wasn’t what the bank considered a “safe bet.”

I shouldn’t have been surprised, and yet the decision hit me with the force of one of Jay’s blows to the gut. I was barely conscious of my surroundings when an uncomfortably familiar deep voice called out my name.

“Yve?”

I looked up. The man seemed to show up everywhere lately. Was it some kind of cosmic joke?

I nodded at Titan and continued toward the door, but he crossed the marble floor of the bank quickly, his big strides eating up the space between us.

His hand on my arm stopped me. “What are you doing here?”

I was still hovering embarrassingly on the edge of tears at the banker’s no-nonsense words informing me that neither this bank nor any other bank in the state of Louisiana would be willing to take a chance on me. The last thing I wanted to do was look Titan in the eye and have him see my despair.

I squeezed my eyes shut and hastily pulled myself together before raising my chin to meet his green gaze. “Am I not allowed in a bank?” I asked, my tone sharp.

His eyes narrowed. “What happened?”

Could he really read me so easily? Didn’t matter; I wasn’t going to lay it all out. Especially not in the lobby of a bank when I was feeling like ghetto trash.

“Mr. Titan, it’s a pleasure to see you,” the loan officer said from behind me. “We’re so happy you could join us for the board meeting.”

Titan ignored him, his eyes never leaving mine.

Irritation flooded me that the same loan officer who’d basically tossed me out of his office kowtowed to Titan. But then again, everyone did.

“Looking for a loan?” Titan asked me.

“None of your business. Now, I need to get to work.”

Titan’s hand tightened the slightest fraction around my arm, enough to make me want to tug it away and run, but I didn’t.

“Mr. Titan, I didn’t realize you were . . . uh . . . acquainted with Ms. Santos,” the banker said as he came closer.

Titan released my arm and I started to step away, but found myself pulled flush against his side. “Yes, Yve is a friend of the family.”

I’m a friend of the family? Since when?

“I hope you were able to assist her with whatever she came in for.”

The loan officer’s face paled a shade. “Well, you see . . . we weren’t able to . . . Ms. Santos isn’t exactly . . .”

My eyes snapped to the banker’s. “Wow, and here I thought whatever we discussed in your office was confidential. I think I’ll be going now.” I tugged away from Titan again, but he held me fast.

“That’s very disappointing to hear. As is the fact that you’d discuss her business with me.” The reprimand in Titan’s tone was sharp and cutting.

“Um, I’m . . . I’m so sorry, sir. I—”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure your boss will be happy to send you through another round of confidentiality training, just to make sure you truly understand the concept.”

“Yes, sir. Of course. I will notify him myself.”

“You do that.”

If I hadn’t been absolutely humiliated and livid, I might have found some humor in the conversation, but as it was, I just wanted to get the hell out of this godforsaken bank.

I jerked out of Titan’s grip. “I have to get to work.”

I didn’t wait for a response as I rushed to the door. But before my hand could land on the wide metal bar to push it open, a larger hand beat me to it.

I shook my head. Whatever. Apparently Titan decided now was the appropriate time to employ manners. I couldn’t care less; I just wanted to be gone. I needed to lick my wounds in private and begin working on Plan B.

He pushed open the second door for me, and I stepped out into the parking lot, heading for my car.

“Yve, stop.”

“Told you, I’m late. My temp is actually supposed to show up today. I don’t want to take the chance that I’m not there and she just leaves.”

“Give me two goddamn seconds, and I’ll let you go.”

The nerve of the man. “You don’t get to let me do anything, Titan.”

I didn’t slow until I reached my car. I fumbled in my purse for my keys, and once I had them in hand, I jammed one into the keyhole in the door.

“Your remote works now.”

My head jerked toward Titan of its own accord. He stood, arms crossed, not even five feet away from me.

“What?”

“The remote, I had them fix it.”

I hadn’t even tried it. I pushed the button and, sure enough, the lights flashed and the locks clicked open.

“Getting the remote fixed on top of everything else would’ve put that repair bill over $300,” I said. Realization dawned, and I glared at him. “You had them change the bill, didn’t you?”

He shrugged. “I admit nothing.”

I spun on my heel and took the two steps necessary to close the distance between us. As I shoved a hand against his chest, I tried not to notice how rock hard it was.

He didn’t budge, but he did slap a palm over my hand to hold it in place. “That wasn’t nice, Yve.”

“Fuck you, Titan. I’m not nice.”

“Neither am I,” he growled. “Which is why I’m not going to apologize for doing this.”

Before I could move—or even breathe—he ducked his head and his lips landed on mine. His hand wrapped around my hip and dragged me against him. I opened my mouth to protest, but he used the move to his advantage, and his tongue delved inside.