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

by Layla Valentine

Logan ran his palm across his mouth. He’d said too much already.

  “Why did you eavesdrop on my conversation?”

  “I’m not going to answer that, since I’m pretty sure you can figure it out. You know more than you’re letting on to.”

  “You just answered it.” He jabbed a finger at her. “Right after you said you wouldn’t.”

  Her face tensed, eyes shooting daggers his way. It was immature, but he liked feeling as if he’d just won a round.

  “I heard you ask something about someone knowing if it was me,” she hissed. “You said, ‘Does he know it was Terri?”

  Logan sighed and closed his eyes. “Fine. Yes. We were talking about you.”

  “Who? Who were you talking about me with?”

  He slowly opened his eyes. Maybe there was the chance, however slight, that if he kept sidestepping around the questions she’d eventually stop asking them.

  Terri folded her arms. “I’m waiting.”

  “Trust me when I say it doesn’t matter.”

  “Hell…” She leaned across the table. “No. I have no reason to trust you. I barely know you.”

  For some reason, that last statement felt like a gut punch. Sure, he was hesitant to get intimately involved, but that didn’t make their time together chopped liver.

  “Okay.” He glanced around, making sure no one listened. If he answered a few questions, maybe she’d back off. “I was talking to the person who tipped me off about the ring.”

  “What person?” she snapped.

  “You know I won’t give a name,” he volleyed back.

  Her arms still crossed, she dug her fingers into her forearms with a vice grip that had to hurt. “And who were you talking about? Who might know that you bought me?”

  Logan licked his lips. “A guy. A businessman.”

  “You need to start answering my questions for real, Logan Denton.”

  He bristled. “Or?”

  “Or I’ll walk out of this restaurant this second and you’ll never get my help with Charlie.”

  A long pause followed, during which they stared at each other.

  She wasn’t bluffing; she had nothing to lose. Maybe she’d felt some sense of obligation to him before, but her new suspicions usurped that. And, damn it, he needed her. He wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble to make the stars align if he didn’t.

  “Good evening!” Out of nowhere, a waiter arrived, making them jump in their seats.

  “Hello,” Logan grunted.

  Terri turned her face away from them both.

  “We’ll have whatever the specialty is.” Logan handed his menu over without looking at it. “And the bottle of wine that goes with it.”

  “What’s it gonna be?” Terri whispered the second the waiter turned his back. “Are you drinking that whole bottle alone?”

  “In public?” He pulled on his jacket lapels to straighten them. “Hopefully, it’ll never come to that.”

  She blinked slowly, unamused.

  “Okay, fine.” Ducking his head, he leaned closer. “My informant called to tell me that one of the owners of the ring discovered that I bought a girl. There’s a chance he might know it’s you.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Why is he so interested in you? You know him?”

  Logan hesitated. He wasn’t used to being this transparent. The whole thing felt wrong.

  “Logan,” she warned in a voice that, despite the mood, was kind of hot.

  “Yes. We know each other. His name is… Bryce Shillings.”

  Her eyes widened. “Bryce Shillings from Chicago?”

  “I’m trying not to be offended that you seem more familiar with his name than you are with mine.”

  “He owns the building that the firm I worked at rents. Actually, he owns nearly half of the city.” Her eyes narrowed yet again. There was a lot of that going on tonight. “And he has what to do with you, exactly? Why would he care about you and me? He thinks that I’m going to reveal my kidnapping?”

  “That’s logical, but again, he doesn’t know it’s you that’s with me.” Logan fiddled with his tie. “I don’t think.”

  She bit into her bottom lip, looking thoughtful. “Well, shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Sucks for you.”

  “Excuse me?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “Yeah. He could tell everyone that you bought a woman.”

  “I could just as easily reveal his part in the game, which is much worse than mine.”

  “Yeah, but you wouldn’t, would you?” Her eyes searched his. “You’re nervous about this. I heard it in your voice when you were on the phone.”

  Logan opened his mouth to answer, but the waiter arrived with the wine. They sat in silence as the bottle was opened and poured. Not until they were alone again did he speak.

  “Bryce and I have worked together in the past. We’re not friends, but I don’t want to get involved in a war with him.”

  “Hm.” She took a sip of wine. “Even considering my threat to not help you? You know the ball is in my court, right? We’re not at your penthouse or in a dark warehouse where no one can hear me scream.”

  With a new intensity in her eyes, she put the wineglass down.

  “I could stand up and yell for help right now and there’s nothing you could do about it. Billions of dollars won’t help you now. Most of the people on this rooftop would come to my help if I said you’d hurt or kidnapped me. They’d take me to The People’s Public Security, and they’d call the American embassy and have me on a flight back to Chicago tomorrow.”

  “I don’t think you’d do that.” Logan spoke softly, but he felt the sweat trickle down the back of his neck.

  “I’m pretty sure I already mentioned that you don’t really know me. So what’s it gonna be? Your choice, Logan.”

  He flexed his jaw. She’d pinned him. There was no muscling his way out. The best option was to use her conditions to his advantage.

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  “I want you to help my brother and me take down the trafficking ring that kidnapped me. In exchange, I’ll make sure Charlie stops chasing you. Not that it will take much effort on my part. This trafficking ring is a much bigger target than you. Being the big brother that he is, he’ll want revenge. Plus, he’s eager to help others.” She cut her gaze away from his. “Some people are just like that.”

  “If I help you, that means declaring war against Bryce.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  Logan inhaled sharply. Time to lay down a card. “He has info on me.”

  “About the insider trading?”

  “Exactly.”

  She shrugged. “Okay. That doesn’t matter. You heard what I just said. Charlie will forget all about that once we tell him about the ring.”

  Logan pushed his hands through his hair and chewed it all over—though he didn’t have much of a choice. Again, it was all about working with what you had.

  “Bryce isn’t my friend,” he said.

  “What is he?”

  He rolled a few not-so-nice phrases over in his head. “Someone I would love to see go to jail.”

  “Perfect.” Terri’s smile was smug. “It sounds like we want the same thing, then.”

  He smirked. “I guess we do. Except… are you sure about Charlie?”

  “I know him better than anyone else does. How’s that for assurance?”

  “I guess I’ll have to take it,” he said with a head shake.

  “Good.”

  The waiter arrived and, with a flourish, set two plates in front of them. For a long moment, they stared at their dinner.

  “Uh… Logan?” She daintily cleared her throat. “What did you order us?”

  “Apparently frog.” He poked it with his fork. “Yep. Frog.”

  Terri started giggling. “Bon appétit.”

  He grinned wide, an overwhelming warmth spreading through his chest. She had talked him around with a shocking finesse and, in the end, ma
de him join her side.

  He’d never been so impressed in his life. Which was probably a bad thing, because the more they carried on, the more certain he felt that he’d never, ever be able to let Terri Lane go.

  Chapter 12

  Terri

  They returned to Logan’s penthouse with Terri walking on cloud nine.

  When they’d left for dinner that night, she’d had no idea that she would do what she did. Overhearing Logan’s conversation had started out as an accident while she really was on her way to the bathroom, and from there, the plan had quickly come to light.

  In the blink of an eye, she’d known what she needed to do.

  And the whole thing couldn’t be more perfect. They would both get what they wanted, and Logan would enjoy the added bonus of taking down Bryce Shillings. Things had worked out perfectly.

  “Imagine,” she said, as they walked into the penthouse. “We could have come to this plan earlier if you’d been completely honest with me.”

  “And why would I have done that?” He shoved his hands in his pockets and eyed her from his post near the couch. “You said yourself we don’t really know each other.”

  Her face turned to fire at that. Dropping her purse on the floor, she whirled around to face him.

  “Not knowing each other that well doesn’t mean we can’t work together,” she stated simply.

  The corners of his lips turned upward in the hint of a smirk. It felt like he was baiting her.

  “Anyway.” She placed a hand on her hip and shrugged. “Everything is working out.”

  “Hopefully.”

  “What does that mean?” She couldn’t ignore what seemed to be genuine doubt in his voice.

  “Bryce is a powerful man.”

  “So are you.” She took a few steps toward him. “And you have me on your side. My story. That accounts for a lot.”

  “Yes, but will our stories alone be enough evidence?”

  “I…” She opened her mouth, faltered, closed it, and nodded firmly. “It’s a start. People aren’t going to ignore what we have to say. The days of discrediting women right off the bat are behind us…” She grimaced. “I mean, mostly.”

  “Where do you get this from?”

  “What?”

  “This…” He waved his hand. “Interest in helping others.”

  She laughed loudly. “You mean empathy?”

  He grinned and tossed his head in a silent laugh. “Sure.”

  “Hm.” She turned sideways and leaned against the back of the couch. “I think the better question is, how come you seem to be lacking in it?”

  The last traces of humor vanished from his face. “If you’re trying to play shrink with me, it won’t work.”

  “I was only returning the question.” She snorted. “Geez. You’re touchy, you know that? You try to hide it by acting like you’re all hard and can’t be bothered, but that’s not it. Your nerves get hit easily.”

  His shoulders stiffened, and he worked his jaw around. Speaking of nerves… looked like she’d hit one right then.

  She swallowed, wishing she could take the last minute back. Logan was softer than he pretended to be; he didn’t deserve low blows because of it.

  “It’s my brother,” she said.

  “What?” He cocked his head in confusion.

  “You asked why I care so much about people.” Pushing off the couch, she walked to the mini bar in the corner. “I think it’s mostly because of him.”

  After perusing the bottles, she selected a bourbon. Without asking Logan if he wanted a drink, she poured them each one and extended his, an offer of peace.

  He crossed the room with purposeful steps, his gaze heavy on her the whole way. Her skin heated up, and the glass in her hand shook from her suddenly weak grip.

  Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice, and he took the tumbler from her before she could embarrass herself and drop it.

  “Big bad Charlie Lane,” he commented.

  She snorted. “That’s not what they call him.”

  Logan lifted his chin, cocky beyond belief. “How do you know? I thought you stayed out of his work.”

  “He’s unapologetic, sure.” She took a sip of liquor that stung her lips and tongue. “But that’s because he knows what he wants. I mean, come on. You’re one to talk. What’s your story?”

  “We’re talking about you. Remember?” Giving her his back, he walked for the couch.

  Terri followed, but not before slipping out of her high heels. Taking a seat a cushion away from him, she crossed her legs and eyed him.

  “Charlie is seven years older than me. He didn’t exactly raise me, but close enough. Our parents were working all the time. They had to. Girard…”

  She tried not to cringe at memories of the tiny town. For some, the quaint community was home. The place they’d been born and would die in. For her, it had often felt like a cage, a place to be escaped from as soon as possible.

  “They both worked late,” she continued. “I’m sure it was hard for them when I was little, juggling paying for daycare and sitters. Once I was in school, Charlie started watching me, since I was five and he was twelve. My parents often worked on the weekends too, at least part of the time.”

  She took a drink, sweeter memories coming to the surface. Forts in the living room. Capture the flag in the backyard. The turtle they’d found eating wild strawberries in the abandoned lot down the street, whose shell they’d marked so they could identify it year after year while it grew.

  “Charlie was smart. Kind. When some kids we went to school with lost their house, he collected donations for their family. Money. Clothes. Food. It was all stealth, though. He knew that the parents were hardworking and embarrassed. And it wasn’t about getting recognition for what he was doing. That was never him. He just wanted to help.”

  She twisted a lock of hair around her finger. It had been months since she’d seen her brother. Illinois had come to feel like another lifetime.

  “And then what?” Logan asked.

  “What do you mean?” She let go of her hair and looked at him.

  “You’re twelve years apart. So he left for college when you were about eleven?”

  “Exactly.”

  She put her bourbon on the coffee table. Turned out, she didn’t feel much like drinking. She must have poured the booze out of a need to do something.

  “And what was that like?”

  “Not fun. I didn’t fit in at school. I wasn’t girly enough. I wanted to read and do science experiments. My parents were still working a lot, and my best friend was gone, so…” She trailed off with a shrug. “It became all about the future. Studying hard, getting to a big city.”

  “And you did.”

  He’d put his drink down as well, and sat with his hands in his lap. His whole demeanor made the conversation feel more like a business meeting than a personal moment.

  Terri’s stomach went sour. She’d opened herself up to him, completely spilled her truth. Maybe that hadn’t been a good idea.

  “Your turn,” she said.

  It was hard to miss the way he stiffened. “What do you want to know?”

  “Tell me about your childhood.”

  He smirked, but his eyes didn’t hold any humor. “Never knew my father. My mother died driving drunk while I was an infant, and my grandfather raised me. He passed away years ago.”

  “I’m sorry,” she breathed.

  “For which part?”

  She parted her lips to respond, but didn’t have an answer.

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about. It’s the past, and it doesn’t define me. I’m not damaged by it. I’ve examined it and taken the good from it.”

  “And you don’t have any other family?”

  He blinked. “No.”

  “Hm.”

  “Don’t feel sorry for me.” He picked up his glass and took a sip.

  “I don’t,” she laughed, meaning it.

  To her surprise, he grinned. “Go
od. Because I don’t need that.”

  “Trust me. I don’t.” She cut her hand through the air. Right before it hit his whiskey tumbler, he grabbed it.

  “Oops,” she whispered.

  “Careful.” His fingers were still on her wrist, electricity crackling where they touched.

  Terri had to work to breathe. “Th—thanks.”

  His eyes softened. Any moment, he would let go of her wrist.

  Except he didn’t. A second passed. And then another.

  Suddenly, somehow, half the space between them was gone. Logan’s exhale brushed over her lips, sending a delicious shiver through her. Every inch of her ached to experience his touch, to know what it was like to be the object of his desire and the only focus in his mind.

  She licked her lips, looking for the right words. But maybe they didn’t exist. This whole dynamic between them was messy, sometimes incomprehensible. Could be that there was nothing to say; there were only things to do.

  She leaned forward the slightest bit, but he was already there. His lips pressed against hers, the kiss strong and heated. Letting go of her wrist, he wound his fingers through her hair.

  Terri sighed against his mouth, melting into the most intoxicating kiss she’d ever known. Every place he touched her came alive in new ways.

  There was the sound of Logan putting his glass down on the table, and then both his hands were on her, one in her hair and one gripping her waist. She found his strong shoulders as the kiss deepened, going into uncharted territories.

  Suddenly, with no warning, his lips left hers.

  Logan scooted backwards across the couch, his hand swiping across his mouth. Terri went ice cold.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “You don’t have to be sorry,” she said, not without a degree of sharpness.

  “I do.” His gaze found hers, but the warmth that was there before had been replaced with a hardness. “I’m no good for you, Terri.”

  She felt her eyebrows shoot up. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t even want to put you in that position.”

  “The position of making up my own mind?” she asked as he stood.

  Logan walked for the front door, not looking back. Grabbing his keys, he left.