To the Highest Bidder

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To the Highest Bidder Page 3

by Clare Connelly


  His intonation was without emotion. “He would have learned a thing or two.”

  “This isn’t funny,” she berated. “You were probably born with a thousand trust funds to your name but I wasn’t. I have to work. This is a nightmare.”

  “No, it isn’t.” The solution was handed to him, by her, on a platter. He reached a hand down and linked his fingers through hers. “In fact, I have a perfect solution for us.”

  “There is no us.”

  “You need a job. You need money. I have money. And I,” he paused to pad a finger along her lower lip, “I need you.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not what you think I am.”

  He lifted his hands in a gesture of silence. “I think you’re stunning. I think you’re absolutely satanically sexy. You should be outlawed.” He ran a finger around the outline of her lips. “I would simply like to pay you to not have a job for a while.”

  She furrowed her brow, her breath thick in her chest as her mouth began to throb with his sensual draw. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because, Jane, I would like to be able to snap my fingers and have your full attention.” He grinned, in a totally seductive way. Her heart turned over. “Whenever I wanted it. If you had a job, particularly in your previous line of work, it would be very difficult to pursue the kind of relationship I’d like with you.”

  She shook her head slowly. “And what kind of relationship is that?”

  He leaned forward and pressed his lips against her ear. “A very adult, very consensual, very sensual one.”

  Her body felt like it had elevated to a higher plane of existence. She sucked in a breath. “So, to be clear, you would not be paying me for sex.”

  He nodded. “That’s right. Just to be… free to see me.”

  She bit down on her lip. Her straightened finances were truly dire, and yet… she hesitated. “I’m not sure.”

  His frustration was pronounced but he concealed it deftly. “What is the problem?”

  She screwed up her face. “I had an understanding with the agency. I can’t do days. I’m only available from around seven at night. I can’t do weekend days either. And there might be some times where I’m not available at all.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  She stiffened. “I’m not prepared to discuss it. It’s just the way I am.”

  He waved a hand through the air. “What happens to you in the days? Do you sprout wings? Scales?”

  She rolled her eyes, and went with the same line she’d told the agency. “I need the days to prepare for the nights, okay? I go to the gym. I get my nails done. My hair. I shop. I know it sounds frivolous but these are all a part and parcel of what I do.”

  He bit down on the urge to tell her these things were not necessary to him. Her manner told him she didn’t want to argue the point. “Fine. But nights are mine.”

  “Every night?” She asked breathlessly.

  His smile unfurled a seed of longing deep inside her. “Possibly. I will certainly require your availability every night; whether I choose to see you or not is another issue.”

  She bit down on her lip. “I don’t understand. Why me?”

  “That’s a good question.” He simply knew that he needed to get her out of his system. That only unfettered access to her would achieve that. “Are you in?”

  She focussed on a point over his shoulder, her mind swamped by conflicting wishes. “I don’t know.” Something occurred to her out of nowhere. “Aren’t you here on a date? Won’t she be wondering where you are?”

  “I don’t frankly care.”

  “That’s kind of cruel.”

  He shrugged. “When I see something I want, I pursue it. And I want you.”

  Her nod was jerky. “I need to think it through. And I’m expecting someone any minute. Can you just… let me… I need to think.”

  He looked at her with an assessing stare. “No. I get the impression you’ll use space from me to talk yourself out of what you really want.” He put an arm against the back of the chair, so that his fingers could dangle teasingly on her shoulder. “So, as I suspect it will help you make up your mind, let’s talk figures.”

  “It’s not about money,” she muttered, embarrassment flooding her.

  “Of course it is. If I don’t offer you money, God knows what you’ll end up doing. And I want you to be doing me, if I’m honest. So stop thinking about job hunting and start thinking about how good it’s going to feel to be in my bed each night.”

  Her heart turned over. “You must see it puts us on an uneven footing.” She couldn’t meet his eyes. “Any relationship between us would be very lopsided.”

  “That you think so shows how greatly you misunderstand the power you hold over me.” His expression was filled with a deep yearning. “I have a skill with money. I seem to be able to take a sum and triplicate it without much effort. I know a good investment when I see one. You are an investment I’m happy to risk.”

  Her eyes flashed. It was a strange compliment, but it pressed into her soul with pleasure. “What would my ‘salary’ be?”

  He named a figure that was treble what she’d cleared in her biggest week working for the agency. It made her hands clammy, and her mind fogged. He mistook her hesitation for playing hardball and sighed heavily.

  “That’s per week. On top of that, you’d have a credit card, a driver and car at your disposal, and a line of credit at a top boutique.” Still, she was silent. “And I’ll get you your job back when our… arrangement comes to an end.”

  Her eyes lifted in surprise. “How do you propose to do that?”

  He ran a hand across her cheek on the pretence of wiping a hair from her face. “I’ll tell the agency that I came on to you. That my father misunderstood. I can be very persuasive.”

  She gnawed on her lower lip until he groaned. “Fine. Double the money. Come on, Jane. Why are you fighting this?”

  “I’m not. And I don’t need that.” She shook her head. “I don’t want anything like that.” She halved his initial offer. It was still a great amount, and it would allow her to save on top of their living expenses.

  “As a businesswoman, you make a great escort.”

  She bristled. “My other condition is that you don’t speak to me like that. You don’t know anything about me. You don’t know why I did what I did, and I won’t be treated like some kind of … slut… because you lack that insight. You’ve approached me. In fact, you’re pestering me. So if I go along with this, I’ll expect you to be respectful and civil.”

  He was not used to being surprised. In business, he went into a meeting knowing what to expect, and was rarely mistaken. But now, he felt an odd sense that he was lurching uncomfortably as his expectations shifted.

  “I didn’t mean to offend you. It is what you are.”

  She nodded. “It’s what I did. What I’ll probably do again. But it’s not who I am.”

  Grudgingly, he had to admit, he was impressed. He was essentially negotiating her into his bed, and she was holding him to a morality clause in their agreement. “I promise.”

  Jane sipped her champagne then replaced it on the table, running her finger around the condensation on the outside of the glass.

  “What else do you need, Jane?”

  “Oh, God, I’m so sorry. I’m an hour late.” Jenna arrived in a cloud of Chanel No. 5, shaking droplets of summer rain from her pale blonde hair. She slid into the seat opposite them, her dress tight, her hair loose, her smile wide. “Who’s this?” She tilted her head towards Carter, at the same time that she lifted Jane’s half-sipped champagne and drank the entire remainder in one gulp.

  “I’m Carter,” he pre-empted, reaching out and gripping Jenna’s hand in a firm handshake.

  “How do you know the birthday girl?”

  His eyes clung to Jane’s face, a note of accusation glinting in his eyes. “We met a few weeks ago. And she’s finally agreed to go on a with date me.”

  “Jane!” Jenna’s m
outh dropped. “You never said a thing. Good for you.” She looked at the bottle of champagne and summed it up as half empty. “Champagne is for wimps. I’m going to get some cocktails.”

  Carter stood. “That’s my cue. Allow me, ladies.”

  “Oh, no.” Jenna shook her head. “It’s my apology for missing the start of the party.”

  His smile was loaded with suggestion. “You’re wrong. I owe you a debt of gratitude for missing the start of the party. Let me organise some cocktails by way of thanks. After all, if you’d been here, I might never have convinced Jane to trust me.”

  Jenna watched him disappear into the crowd and then spun back to her best friend. “Oh, wow. He’s a little too slick, Janey.”

  “I know.” She frowned. “He scares the pants off me.”

  “Sounds promising,” Jenna responded with an exaggerated wink. And though champagne might have been for wimps, she took great delight in tipping the rest of the bottle into their two glasses and pressing Jane for gossip as she went.

  Carter arrived empty handed, only a moment later. Far too swiftly for Jane to relay any of the truth of her predicament to her best friend. As he walked across the elegant room, she had time only to whisper, “I don’t want him to know too much about me, okay? I met him through an assignment. I’m still… making up my mind.”

  Jenna tapped the side of her nose. “’nuff said.”

  “Thanks.” She flickered her gaze to Carter. Their eyes locked, and she felt the sizzle of awareness travel right to the heart of her soul.

  “Drinks are on their way. I’ve taken the liberty of reserving a table upstairs, too, for dinner in an hour.”

  Jenna looked suitably impressed, whereas Jane had the sense that she was being pulled against the tide, deep into a dark, swirling ocean. “That’s not necessary. We were just going to grab a hot dog on the way home.”

  “A hot dog?” His face was rich with displeasure. “We can do that, too. But it’s your birthday.” Beneath the table, he put a hand lightly on her thigh. And though it sent a pulse of heat flashing through her, the strangest part of the contact was that it also felt totally right. That it felt natural.

  “Jenna, are you in the same line of work as Jane?”

  Jenna grinned good-naturedly. “I wish. We can all agree I don’t quite have the looks for it.” She pulled a self-deprecating face as she looked down at her slim figure. “Nothing so exciting for me. I’m a school teacher. What about you, Carter?”

  “Family business,” he said with a sidelong glance at Jane.

  “What kind of business?”

  “Sure you’re not a journalist?” He asked, in response to her barrage of curious questions.

  She held her hands up. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “Of course.” His fingers began to trace invisible patterns over the material of her dress, causing Jane’s breathing to become erratic. “We’re in the media.”

  “The media?” She pulled a face. “The way you say it, that sounds like the mob.”

  Jane bit down on her laugh. “Jenna,” she said warningly.

  “It’s okay.”

  “She does have a point though,” Jane smiled at him, her face bemused, with a mixture of shyness and amusement.

  “We’re in the media,” he repeated, with his best, worst mobster accent.

  A waitress arrived with a tray of cocktails and placed them on the table. “Mr Mann-Hughes, the table is reserved upstairs for any time you’re ready.”

  “Waitaminute,” Jenna exhaled, as the waitress disappeared. “You’re Carter Mann-Hughes? Of Silverlight?”

  “The penny drops,” he said with an exaggerated grimace.

  Jane knew who he was. At least, she’d known who Hank was through the research notes she’d been given, prior to undertaking her assignment at his birthday party. It hadn’t occurred to her to mind the disparagement in their position until she saw Jenna’s reaction.

  “Holy shit, Jane. He’s practically royalty. How did you not say anything?”

  Because he’s going to use that fabulous money to buy me. But only for a while. Only for a time. Her smile was false, but only Carter saw it.

  “Jane really didn’t want to see me again.”

  “Well, I know that can’t be true,” Jenna said with a shake of her head. “I had to drag her kicking and screaming to any kind of birthday party. So if she invited you, then…”

  The words hung between the three of them, as Jenna looked from one to the other. Jane burst out laughing at the same time Carter shook his head slowly from side to side.

  “We simply bumped into each other. Jane didn’t tell me that you’re celebrating.”

  Jenna wriggled her fair eyebrows. “Even better. It’s kismet.”

  “You know, that’s not a cocktail.” Jane said, changing the subject awkwardly away from fate and romance, as she nodded towards the Scotch Carter had ordered himself.

  He tilted a sardonic smile in her direction. “Don’t you think I’d look a little ridiculous drinking that?” He nodded at Jane’s pink concoction, that was topped with whipped cream and a maraschino cherry.

  She lifted it to her lips and sipped through the straw without responding. His eyes were drawn to the way her bright lips curved around the straw. He felt himself straining against his pants, in an immediate kick of hunger. He swore to himself. He hadn’t been provoked to this kind of reaction since he was a school boy. There’d been a lot of water under the bridge since then. The strength of his attraction to her surprised him.

  The whole night, as he stumbled through conversation as best as his totally turned on body would allow, he kept remembering how she’d felt pressed against him. How her body had responded to his.

  He’d told Hank that he’d been sparing him from the claws of a gold digger.

  So why had he fallen into the same trap?

  Because she was too uniquely appealing to resist.

  Carter placed his credit card on the bar, and turned around to watch the two girls from a distance. Their heads were huddled together, eyes close, as they whispered secrets. A flicker of a smile traced his lips as he suspected they were discussing him.

  At the next table, three businessmen kept slipping furtive glances in their direction. A sharp kick of possessive jealousy assailed him out of nowhere. It was worse than he thought. He needed to have her. It was a soul-deep desperation that required immediate answering. Only it would have to wait. For a night at least.

  He sighed heavily and returned to the table, preparing to play the part of the perfect gentleman for a little while longer.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “You didn’t have to buy us dinner,” Jane said, a little while after they’d left the restaurant. It was one of those perfect New York nights. The rain had cleared, but it had left in its wake a startling clearness in the city streets. The usual fog and grime had been washed away. Everything seemed to sparkle. Or perhaps it was just Jane’s vision that was glistening.

  He put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to his body. God, he wanted her.

  “I had a surprisingly pleasant evening.”

  “I did too,” she agreed thickly.

  “Hey, you two! Are you coming?” Jenna waved at them from the waiting cab, pulled half up on the kerb.

  “I should…” Jane said, a small frown on her face. “Unless you… I mean… we didn’t actually talk about when I would start my new ‘job’.”

  His expression didn’t change despite the strange torrent of emotions that stormed through him. “Not when you’ve had half a liquor store to drink.”

  Disappointment seared into her. “You kept buying drinks,” she whispered, dropping her gaze.

  Again, he had that impression of distinct vulnerability. Strange for a woman like her, who was so beautiful and, at times, so confident. He lifted her face with a finger under her chin. “It’s your birthday. Thank you for letting me share it with you.”

  She shook her head. “You can be really ch
arming sometimes, you know.”

  “That’s not all I can be.” He ran a finger through her hair, and the knowledge that he must wait for her was like a knife inside of him. “Tomorrow night?”

  She nodded. “Where? When?”

  She deserved to be taken to five star dinners every night. The thought came to him out of nowhere and he pushed it aside. This was not about romance. He had done something he’d never thought possible and propositioned her for the purpose of sex. Why was he dressing it up as something else? He mentally put some distance between them. “I’ll have my driver bring you to my apartment.”

  “No,” she instinctively pulled away from the idea of his knowing where she lived. “I’ll make my own way. Just let me know the address.”

  “Janey?” Jenna called insistently.

  “I’m coming,” she said, throwing a look over her shoulder.

  Carter pulled a pen from his top pocket and reached for her arm. He wrote his address on her skin, then lifted it to his lips and placed a kiss over the dark letters.

  “Eight o’clock.”

  She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

  She turned to leave, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her back to him. “Jane?”

  “Mmm?”

  “You’ll be staying over. Bring whatever you need.”

  Her cheeks pinkened with a betraying flush, but her eyes held his. “Good night. Thanks again.”

  She slid into the cab beside Jenna with a feeling of disbelief.

  The taxi was part way down Maddison when Jenna verbally burst with her excitement. “Jane! How could you not tell me?”

  Jane bit down on her lip. “It’s not like it seems.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Jane’s brain was thick with alcohol. Jenna was the one person she told everything to. Everything. Her darkest fears. Her hopes. Her worries. “Promise you won’t get all thingy about it?”

 

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