Bidder - An Auctioned to the Billionaire Romance (Criminal Passions Book 2)

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Bidder - An Auctioned to the Billionaire Romance (Criminal Passions Book 2) Page 2

by Layla Valentine


  Chapter 3

  Terri

  The SUV’s door closed with an uncertain finality. Was this the start of her demise? Or had she just been saved?

  Her gut told her this man was different from the others, and not because he was American. No. It was the fact that he looked at her like she was actually human.

  “Who are you?” she demanded.

  In the driver’s seat in front of them, an older man who was almost a cliché in his driving cap hit the gas.

  The blond man turned so that his back was pressed against the door and he was closer to fully facing Terri.

  “My name is Logan Denton.”

  “O-kay…”

  He arched an eyebrow the slightest bit.

  Terri blinked. “Wait. That sounds familiar.”

  “I’m from Chicago, like you.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “It’s more than that. And how do you know I’m from Chicago?”

  She thought hard, trying to remember where she’d heard or read his name.

  “I’m a hedge fund manager,” he supplied, ignoring her question.

  That rang a bell. He was more than a hedge fund manager. He was one of Chicago’s most talked-about billionaires. He’d been mentioned in a few articles she’d read, but now she couldn’t remember exactly what for.

  “You’re also a participant in human trafficking,” she added.

  It would have been best to play it cool and reasonable until the perfect moment for escape arrived, but a fellow Chicagoan buying her absolutely boiled her blood. They could have stood in the same coffee shop line together! Checked out the same library book!

  Although, to be fair, she would have remembered standing behind him in any line.

  “I understand how this looks.” His lips drew tight. “This isn’t something that I’ve done before.”

  “Okay. And why should I believe that?” she scoffed. “Hell, why should that even matter? You just bought me.”

  Hands trembling, she removed her high heels. If the car stopped in a busy place, she would be out the door. An escape made barefoot would be twice as fast as one made in heels.

  “I know. It’s what I had to do, though. I couldn’t just waltz in there and take you. They’d kill me and dump my body in the river.”

  Dropping her high heels on the car’s floor mat, she straightened up and considered that. He was right. Of course they would have assumed he was some sort of undercover cop or guy looking to play hero, and, therefore, a threat to the whole operation.

  “Still…” She eyed him warily.

  “I didn’t buy you expecting you to actually be my slave, Terri.”

  That made her jerk back. “How do you know my name?”

  He ran his fingers through his thick hair. Even though his lips drew tight, they remained full. Soft.

  She blinked and shook her head. What the hell? Was she seriously salivating over a man who’d just bought her?

  “Your brother, Charlie Lane, is district attorney.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  He paused, eyes flicking left and right as he formulated an answer. The car emerged from the long line of warehouses and turned onto a road that led back into the heart of the city.

  “We have business,” Logan said. “Yes.” He nodded. “You could call it that.”

  “What kind of business? And you still haven’t told me how you know my name or how I’m related to him.”

  She folded her arms. This guy was hard to get a read on. He might have swooped in and saved her, but the move didn’t seem to be a completely altruistic one.

  “Fair enough.” He obliged with a nod of his head. “I’ll answer all your questions right now, to the best of my ability.”

  With that, he cleared his throat and sat a little straighter, like he was preparing to give a big presentation.

  “I’m a hedge fund manager and your brother is eager to indict me on insider trading suspicion due to activity from years ago. I’ve been in Ho Chi Minh City for a few weeks now, and I heard about you through the grapevine.”

  “What grapevine?”

  “The one composed of billionaires who have their hands in multiple pies.”

  “You’re in the human trafficking business?” she snapped.

  His eyes widened a bit. “No. No, I am certainly not.”

  “Hm.” Her arms remained folded. “Then how did you know about me?”

  “Because an associate who knows about Charlie’s hunt for me heard that you were here and that you’d been taken.”

  “But this associate knew I was his sister,” she volleyed back. “And he what? Had someone watching me?”

  This whole thing made her head spin, and it was impossible to tell if even a shred of his story was true.

  Logan did little more than blink. “No. But he knew what was happening when it comes to the operation we just left behind.”

  The weight of that crushed Terri’s heart. This man, this informant, whoever he was, knew a trafficking ring was happening and he had done nothing to stop it?

  “And what?” she asked. “He’s a customer there?”

  “No. He’s not. As I said before, there’s a grapevine.”

  “Okay.” She pressed her hands to her aching temples. “Thank you. Thank you for… taking me out of there.”

  “You’re welcome. You don’t have to thank me, however.”

  She dropped her hands. “Because you’re looking to make a trade?”

  He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “It would make me very happy if you could talk to your brother and find a way to get him off my back.”

  Before she could stop herself, Terri laughed. “Really?”

  His blue eyes sparkled. “Why is that funny?”

  “Charlie and I don’t talk about his work. I know next to nothing about it.”

  “I don’t see that as being an insurmountable obstacle.”

  “Hmm. Okay.”

  A silence fell between them. Logan didn’t seem to expect her to say anything else right away, so they sat there for a while and looked out the windows at the city coming to life. Shopkeepers opened their doors. Bicyclists zoomed alongside traffic. The world was there for the taking.

  And it almost hadn’t been. Ten minutes before, she’d been half sure her life had been stolen from her forever.

  But then Logan had saved her. So, technically, she probably did owe him a favor.

  “I’ll talk to him,” she said. “I don’t know what good it will do, though. He’ll probably think it’s suspicious that I’m even bringing up work.”

  “Talking to him is all I ask of you.”

  “It’ll probably take some time.” She chewed on her lip. “What do you want me to say, anyway? Did you commit insider trading?”

  He hesitated.

  “Right.” She nodded. “That’s all I need to know.”

  “Perhaps we can come up with a conceivable story as to why you’d be bringing it up.”

  “Yeah. Maybe.” She sighed and dropped her head against the headrest. She felt like she’d been dragged through hell and back.

  “We’re going to my penthouse,” Logan said. “You can rest there for as long as you need.”

  She had to give it to him: he was good at reading people.

  “All of my things are at the hostel,” she said. “My phone. Passport. Assuming no one has stolen them.”

  “We can’t go there now. I’m sorry. It would look too suspicious. Perhaps after a few days.”

  Due to having no energy to argue, she nodded. It was hard enough to comprehend everything that had happened in the last twelve hours. Eight? Six?

  She couldn’t guess. She didn’t even know what time the men had broken into the hostel.

  “You have a penthouse, you said?” she asked.

  “Yes.” His eyes softened. “You can trust me, Terri.”

  Something in her chest hitched at that. Still…

  “Even if I didn’t,” she point
ed out, “would I have a choice?”

  His jaw tightened. “No.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  With a nod, she turned to look back out the window. Orange morning light streamed across the city. A new day was on its way. What would come with it, she had no idea.

  All she knew was that she had never been so grateful to be alive.

  Chapter 4

  Logan

  Logan Denton had found himself in a number of sticky situations over the years. At this point, he prided himself on getting out of them.

  It likely started with the time he was caught breaking into an abandoned house with his buddies in elementary school. He’d managed to slip out of that one by concocting a story on the spot about going in there because they were trying to help a stray dog.

  From there on, the stakes had only grown. As necessarily, so had his skills.

  Raised in a rougher part of Chicago by a distant (and probably clueless) grandfather, he’d learned early on the skills necessary to not only get by, but to also come out on top. For the most part, he’d done all of this unapologetically.

  Sure, he had scruples. Just not always.

  And that was only because few people seemed to care about anything other than their own asses. Simply put, he played the game that was necessary for survival.

  After hearing that Charlie Lane’s sister had been kidnapped and was being auctioned off, hopping into a car and going down to the warehouse seemed like a no-brainer. The universe, seeing he was in need, had supplied him with a resolution.

  The sticky part of it all?

  Terri Lane was drop-dead, earth-shattering, knee-shakingly gorgeous. On top of that, she had an enigmatic attitude to match.

  This he hadn’t planned on. He wasn’t used to hard-set lines when it came to women. Usually, any female he wanted automatically wanted him back.

  But it would need to be hands off with Terri, for a number of reasons. Not only did he not want to give off the impression that he expected sexual favors in exchange for buying her, she technically couldn’t be trusted.

  Not yet, anyway. Her brother was the enemy. Based on the digging Logan’s assistants had done, the two of them were close. It wouldn’t be easy for Terri to help out Charlie’s nemesis, no matter the circumstances.

  “This is your building?” Terri asked. She scooted closer to the window and eyed the doorman.

  “It is.”

  “Nice.”

  She put her heels back on. With her long hair covering her face, he couldn’t tell if that had been a jab or an actual compliment.

  The driver who Logan had hired through a local service killed the engine and came around to open Terri’s door. She hesitated.

  She didn’t trust him. Fair enough.

  However, though it would be best if he kept his guard up, the same couldn’t be said for her. He opened his mouth, about to say something encouraging, but she took a deep breath and stepped from the car.

  Nodding a good morning, the doorman opened the door for them and they entered a shiny lobby with a grand piano in the corner and oil paintings on the walls. It was one of the nicest buildings in the city. Even though Logan often didn’t spend more than a few weeks out of the year in the area, having a place to call his own made all the difference.

  “Top floor, huh?” Terri commented after the elevator operator punched the buttons.

  Logan shrugged. “I like a good view.”

  She nodded and said nothing else. They rode in silence, the operator tipping his hat and bowing when they got off.

  As they walked down the hall, Logan found himself stealing glances at her. What was going through her head? So much had happened to her. Could be that she was in shock.

  “I want you to make yourself at home.” He opened up his front door. “There’s only one bedroom, but I want you to have it. My home is yours.”

  She cast a wary look around the living room. The cleaning crew had come by the day before, so the wood floors shone and the place smelled of pine and citrus. In the corner, between the bar and the pool table, the saltwater tank gurgled. A starfish crept along the glass, and one of the octopus’ red arms poked out from the center cave.

  “One bedroom, you say?” She turned to look at him. “Giant living room, though.”

  Something in her bright green eyes caught him off guard. He couldn’t say what it was, but his heart rate increased and he felt oddly unsettled.

  “Yes, well…” With a throat clear, he looked away. “Technically, the place came with two bedrooms, but I needed a gym.”

  “Right.” She hovered near the door.

  “That’s the bedroom there.” He pointed at the door. “The master bath is through there. Feel free to take a shower. I’ll order some breakfast.”

  “Thanks. Hey, do you have a phone I can use in a bit?”

  It was his turn to hesitate. “What for?”

  Her eyebrows rose. “To make a phone call.”

  Logan sighed and looked at the floor. “You’re not going to mention this trafficking ring to anyone, are you? Because for the time being, it would be best if we don’t.”

  She crossed her arms. “What I’d like is to get in touch with my brother and let him know I’m alive. My cell phone is back at the hostel, and I’ve been checking in regularly with him. If I don’t get in touch, he’ll probably come looking for me.”

  “I’m sorry.” He spread his hands. “That came off in a…”

  “Dickish way,” Terri supplied.

  He snorted. “Right.”

  Her lips twitched, and she dropped her arms. “It’s okay. Unless, of course, you’re going to tell me I can’t use the phone.”

  “Of course you can.”

  “After a shower.” She grabbed fistfuls of her dress and made a face. “Ugh. I want to burn every stitch of this.”

  “I’m sure we can arrange something.”

  “Thanks.” She sighed. “I need my stuff, by the way. If those pieces of scum didn’t take it all. My wallet, my cell, my passport… it’s all at the hostel.”

  “I’ll take care of that. What’s the address?” He grabbed the notepad that lived on the side table by the front door and wrote down the street number she gave him.

  “Thank you.” Terri hesitated at his bedroom door. From across the room, their eyes locked. “Really. Thanks.”

  A shiver went through him. “You’re welcome, but it’s not necessary.”

  “Still, let me say it.”

  The second the door closed behind her, he let out a long breath and laced his hands behind his head. He had to keep himself on track. There was no room to get distracted by a pretty face.

  Except Terri had more than a ‘pretty’ face. She was mind-blowingly stunning.

  But whatever. If he kept himself busy, it shouldn’t be too much of a problem. And the sooner he got DA Charlie Lane off his back, the sooner he’d be done with Terri.

  Taking his phone from his pants’ pocket, he made two calls—one for a breakfast delivery and the other to his Ho Chi Minh assistant, asking him to pick up Terri’s belongings from the hostel.

  As he pocketed the phone, it occurred to him that Terri didn’t have anything to change into. At least not until his assistant retrieved her belongings.

  He was considering running down the street to the clothing store on the corner when his bedroom door opened. Out stepped Terri.

  While the waist-length hair she’d gone into his room with had magically turned into chin-length hair, it was still black and wavy. The makeup had been scrubbed from her face, save a bit of mascara that was smudged under her eyes.

  The thing that really made him stare, though, were her clothes. A very familiar dark blue T-shirt and running shorts, to be precise.

  She leaned against the doorjamb, looking bashful. “I hope you don’t mind that I went into your closet. I would have rather gone naked than put that dress on again.”

  A half a second after the words left her mouth, she turned b
right pink.

  She must have been determined to prove she hadn’t embarrassed herself, though, because she straightened her back and strode into the living room.

  “It’s perfectly fine,” he rasped. His mouth had gone dry, and it showed no signs of changing. “Someone will bring your things here shortly, and breakfast is on the way as well.”

  “Okay.”

  She paused in the middle of the room, near the couches. Despite her confidence a moment before, she looked out of place and unsure again.

  “Can I get you anything?” he asked. “How about some water?”

  She twisted her lips. “Sure. Thanks.”

  He fetched her a big glass of water from the kitchen, and they settled onto the catty-cornered couches.

  Elbows propped on his knees, Logan leaned forward and rubbed his palms.

  “I’ve been thinking about it, and we should probably stay close to my place for a few days. We can go out and do things but not leave the city. Sending someone to your hostel is suspicious enough. It wouldn’t be in our favor for your kidnappers to see you walking around a free woman, on your way back to America.”

  She took a long sip of the water, set the glass on the coffee table, and stared at him a long time.

  “And do you know who my captors are?” she asked. “Their names.”

  “No.”

  It made him feel a bit guilty, but he was also partly glad he didn’t know. That made it easier to wash his hands of the situation.

  Whoever ran the trafficking ring, they were probably loosely connected to Logan, at least through a string of associations. If he went after them, they would return the fire with due fervor. Not exactly what he wanted while being suspected of illegal activities.

  Instead of deflating at his answer, she kept looking at him, like if she stared enough he might crack and reveal the truth. Eventually, she must have decided to believe him, because she looked away and took another drink of water.

  “I’m a paralegal in Chicago,” she said. “Well. Was. Before I quit to travel around the world.”

  “You followed your older brother into law.”

  Her gaze cut sharply to him. “Something tells me you already knew that.”

 

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