To the Highest Bidder

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To the Highest Bidder Page 9

by Clare Connelly


  “Are you sure?” Karina asked, perfectly aware she was needling Carter.

  “Positive. It’s still ten minutes off. You guys do your thing. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

  Carter led Karina into his study, and it took him the entire walk to get his hormones under control. When he shut the door behind them, Karina burst out laughing. “Carter Mann-Hughes, you are a gonner.”

  He looked at her in confusion. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You’re done and dusted. She’s got you. I’ve never seen you like this before. You have gone from someone who treats women with barely concealed contempt to a love-sick puppy in the space of a week.”

  He straightened his spine. “Why do you say that?”

  “Could you be any more into this girl? You’re all over her like some kind of rash.”

  He busied himself pulling the files Karina needed out of his shelves, but his mind was spinning faster than an out of control bull at a gate. Jane was, granted, impossibly sexy, but his infatuation was just that. An infatuation. Was there any chance she thought there was more to them than he could offer?

  “It’s just sex, Karina,” he said grimly. Guilt, unmistakable, flooded his system as he said the words aloud.

  “Doesn’t seem like it,” Karina responded with a shrug of her slim shoulders.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “She’s not like your usual bed bunny, that’s all.”

  He nodded. “She’s nice. She’s normal.” She wasn’t normal, though, that was the problem. She was entirely unique. She didn’t fit into Box A or Box B. He didn’t know what to do with her. But the way he’d responded the night before, to the sight of her drenched and shaking on his doorstep, had filled him with concern. Why had he been so worried? Why had he acted as though she’d skydived out of a plane without a parachute just because she’d walked a few blocks in wet weather? In short, what the hell was going on with him?

  “She likes you, Carter.”

  His heart soared. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean she really likes you.”

  “I heard what you said, I’m asking what makes you think that?”

  Karina took the folder from him and opened the documents carefully. “I know women. Men, I couldn’t fathom to save my life, but I do know women. And she’s crushing on you big time.”

  He shook his head. “It’s just sex. For both of us.”

  “How do you know?”

  He took the folder back and flicked forward a few pages. “We’ve discussed it.”

  And yet, when they emerged a short while later, Karina shot Carter a clearly disbelieving glance. Jane had set the rarely-used dining table with the results of her labour. A beautifully golden roast chicken sat in the centre, with all the trimmings settled around it.

  “Jane?” Carter stopped walking, his face unreadable.

  “What is it?” She looked at Karina. “You’re not a vegetarian are you?”

  “Oh, no,” Karina said sweetly, her eyes laughing at Carter’s expression. “This looks great, Jane. But it looks like you went to a lot of effort…”

  Carter swallowed. She had made him a roast dinner. It was just sex. And yet her kind gesture filled him with a lurching sense of spinning out of control.

  “Carter’s just not sure what to do with food that doesn’t come in a box,” Karina whispered as she walked past Jane. “But my mom’s a great cook, and I can tell you’re in the same class. Roasts were my favourite growing up, Jane.”

  Jane looked at Carter again, confused and nervous. He still wasn’t speaking. His face was… she didn’t know. “Carter?”

  He blinked, but when he smiled, it was strange. Hollow. “It looks good, Jane.”

  She couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d done something wrong. She bit down on her lip and slid into one of the seats. “I just thought it was better for you than take out.”

  A mistake she would definitely not be repeating. “Jane isn’t a fan of fast food,” he explained unnecessarily.

  “It’s the crappy ingredients,” she said defensively.

  Karina looked at her curiously.

  “Never mind.” Jane shook her head. Her mood felt like it had been popped by a pin.

  “Jane, don’t mind Carter. He’s not very good with social niceties. You must know that about him by now. Don’t let his lack of gratitude upset you.”

  Carter cleared his throat. “I’m not ungrateful,” he demurred, sitting beside Jane without looking at her. “It’s just a waste of your talents.”

  “I don’t see cooking as an activity that requires talent,” Jane combatted with quiet pride. “It’s just something people do out of necessity. Most people, anyway.”

  Karina hid her smile behind her wine glass.

  “You have no necessity while you’re here,” he responded, reaching for a piece of chicken and placing it on Jane’s plate.

  “Excuse me,” Jane said. “I forgot the onions.” She stood abruptly and moved towards the kitchen.

  “You’re being an asshole,” Karina whispered quietly. Her blue eyes were hard, in a way Carter hadn’t seen them before.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Just sex or not, you’re treating her like she’s some kind of whore. As though you expect her to sit quietly and wait in your bedroom or something.”

  Carter was so surprised he almost dropped the tongs. His eyes flew to Jane, in the kitchen. The sight of her with her back to him sent a dagger of discomfort through his body. Yet again, he’d said the wrong thing. He looked away.

  When she returned with the onions, and sat beside him, he put a hand over hers. “Thank you, Jane. This is delicious.”

  She didn’t meet his eyes. It was safer for her to speak to Karina, and so Jane did. And Carter listened, and tried to get a grip on his own damned feelings.

  Karina excused herself as soon as it was polite to do so, leaving Jane and Carter in a prickly silence.

  “I have been informed that my behaviour to you was very rude,” he said with a grimace.

  She pushed the plug into the sink and began to run warm water into it. “Do you have detergent?” She asked quietly.

  He reached over and turned the tap off. “Jane. Listen to me.”

  She forced herself to meet his gaze. “You are the first person to cook for me.”

  “So? You don’t make a habit of dating women who cook. I could have guessed as much.”

  “No. You are the first person to cook for me. Ever. It threw me off guard. That’s all.”

  Jane had always presumed that his life had been perfect. Despite his parents’ divorce, he had such an air of confidence that it had been easy to imagine he had waltzed through childhood without a blemish on his emotional soul.

  “I wanted to make you something,” she said with a shrug. “I like to cook. I don’t like takeout. But I won’t do it again.”

  He lifted a hand to her hair, and hooked a thick section through his fingers. “You are a very good cook.”

  “I know.” She knitted her brows together. “Carter, it wasn’t a declaration of love. I just wanted to make something that was better for us than Chinese.”

  It was a lie. She knew, the second she said the words, that there was more to it than that. But Carter didn’t need to know that. She shrugged. “You’re really weird about this stuff.”

  He nodded, his head ringing with something like panic. “Apparently.”

  She reached over and ran the water again, but once more, he switched it off.

  He didn’t know why he kept reacting as he did around her. He only knew that in one way, they made perfect, indescribable sense.

  “Leave the dishes and come with me.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Three whole weeks.

  Jane lifted her knees to her chin, the sheet draped across them, as she watched Carter showering. His body was covered in lather and the warm water was creating steam in the bathroom. She would have to go, soon. But leaving in the middle of th
e night was getting harder and harder.

  She toyed with the sheet, running her fingers over the crisp white fabric.

  “You know,” she called out waspishly. “I would have thought you’d be sick of me by now…”

  He turned off the water and stepped out of the shower without reaching for a towel. He stalked across the bedroom, dripping wet, and jumped on the bed beside her. She let out a squawk as he tackled her backwards, covering her with his wet, slippery body.

  “Actually, so would I,” he grinned. “But I’ve got news for you, Jane. I’m not even close.”

  “Huh. Fascinating.” She stared up at him, her dark eyes like melted chocolate. She couldn’t imagine leaving him. She was clinging to the certainty that she would have to, though. That this wonderful, shiny feeling of being adored and desired and wanted would not last forever.

  “Unfortunately, I can’t see you tomorrow night though.”

  “Oh.” She nodded, hating the way she felt like she could almost cry. “That’s fine.”

  “It’s not fine. It’s damned annoying. I know you have your rule about days, but I was hoping you’d stay over tonight and spend tomorrow with me.”

  She shook her head. “I really can’t.” She plastered a smile onto her face. “But I’ll see you the next night.”

  He lowered his head, so that his lips were poised just above hers. “Perhaps I can work out a way to change your mind. I want you here, Jane.”

  “I know. If there was any way I could be persuaded, then you would have done it by now. But I can’t.”

  “What do you do in the days? I know you don’t run around to beauty appointments all day. So what is it?” He asked darkly, kissing the soft skin to the side of her mouth. “And why are you so secretive about it?”

  “It’s my life.” She shrugged. “I don’t care what you do in your days.” It was a lie, but she hoped he couldn’t tell that.

  “I sit in a very boring office, fantasising about you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “What’s the go tomorrow night?”

  “I have a network cocktail party at the Studio. I go every year.”

  “Sounds fun.”

  He laid her back, gently, pressing his warm, naked frame over her. He kissed her lips, then her neck, then her breasts, one by one. His hands followed the path paved by his lips, touching her over-sensitised skin until she was about to boil over.

  His lips chased lower, to her flat stomach. “I’m so glad my dad brought you to his party.”

  She hit his shoulder playfully. “Let’s not talk about your father.” She couldn’t even think of him. It was one of the major stumbling blocks she had to even daring to dream that this could turn into something else. There were many other reasons that it wasn’t possible, but Hank was, indeed, a major roadblock.

  His mouth brushed against her upper thigh, and she sucked in a deep breath. His fingers followed, tracing, teasing until finally, he brought them to her entrance. He watched her face as he invaded her body. Watched the way she arched her back and cried out.

  Her responsiveness alone never failed to make him hard. He stood and moved his body over her, so that he could enter her. He moved quickly; his need was desperate, and so was hers. His hands lit fires in her flesh as they touched her skin. She lifted her knees to the ceiling and put her fingers above her head. Her cheeks flushed with desire as she cried out, her orgasm matched by his in intensity.

  He watched her try to regain a hold of her control and moved a little, shifting his weight. He ran a finger around her nipple.

  “Stay tonight.”

  She bit down on her lip. “For a little bit,” she agreed, resting her head on his chest. “But I really do have to go soon.”

  He nodded, and reached for the lamp. He clicked it off, plunging them into darkness.

  The next thing Jane was aware of was the light streaming in the window. They’d forgotten to shut the curtains, but that was not the problem. “Shit!” She jumped out of bed, waking Carter with the sudden movement.

  He sat up immediately. “What is it?”

  “It’s morning!” She almost fell over in her haste to pull her underwear back on. “Where are my jeans?” She found them, thrown over the far side of the room in a moment of passion the night before. “Shoot, shoot, shoot.”

  Her phone was in the pocket, battery almost dead. She tapped out a text to Jenna.

  I’m so sorry! I fell asleep. Can you give Anita money for lunch and I’ll pay you back later? So sorry!

  She didn’t pause to put a bra on. Her shirt went on without it, then the scarf.

  She’s gone already, but I made her a sandwich. Nigella Lawson, eat your heart out.

  Jane shook her head. That’s not your job! Thank you, but I’m sorry. I’ll see you tonight.

  “Damn it! How could you let me fall asleep?” She demanded, irrationally angry with Carter.

  “Hey.” He stood up, his expression so sweetly miffed that it infuriated her further. “What is going on? I know you like your privacy. That much is obvious. But why don’t you tell me what’s so urgently waiting for you at home. Or who?”

  “Because, Carter, one day soon, you’re going to move on. You’ll meet someone else. Someone who’s more ‘your type’, and I’m going to become an inconvenience you don’t want. You’re going to disappear, and the less you know about my life, the easier that will be for you to do. So don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.” She glared at him. “And don’t push me to stay over. I can’t do it.” She reached for his hand and angled it so she could see the time on his watch. She was going to be late for her meeting with Thomas, and that had never happened to her before.

  “I have to go.” She grabbed her handbag from the floor and ran out. It was the first time she left without a lingering goodbye kiss, and Carter dwelled on that fact most of the day.

  Are you still fuming? He messaged, just as she was sitting down to lunch, several hours later.

  Jane smiled, shaking her head. No. I got my stuff done. And for the briefest of moments, it was kind of nice waking up beside you.

  I’m glad you think so. I’m hoping we can work out a way to relax your day policy eventually.

  She didn’t reply. There would not be an ‘eventually’ for them. Not with how their relationship had come about. The phone blinked beside her, glaring at her, until she finally picked it back up again. I could come to the thing with you tonight?

  No immediate reply. She felt like she’d walked out onto the edge of a precipice. Finally: No, it’s boring. Stay home… and charge your phone!

  It rankled, for some reason. I won’t find it boring if I’m with you.

  A long silence. Then, her phone began to ring. It surprised her. He’d never called before.

  She answered, unable to keep the smile from her voice.

  “I’m just going into a meeting. I won’t be able to text.” He was quiet. “Don’t worry about tonight. I’m going purely out of obligation, but it will be a late one.”

  She frowned. “What’s going on?” Cold fingers of dread began to run through her. “Are you… I mean… are you afraid I might embarrass you?”

  “Of course not,” he responded sharply.

  “I used to go to parties like that for a living, you know.”

  He let out an exasperated hiss. “Yes, I do know, Jane, and so might any of the other guests in attendance.”

  She didn’t say anything. Her chest felt like an elephant had sat down on it.

  His next words held a tone of apology. “I don’t mean to seem insensitive, but it’s very possible you’ve been employed by at least one of the guests who will be there. These are mostly male television executives. Just the kind of client you would have serviced.”

  She gripped the edge of her chair. “You make it sound so dirty. How do you do that?”

  “It’s not… I don’t mean that. I just think it would draw unwanted attention to us.”

  “So you are embarrassed by me. By this.
” She nodded. It answered a secret question she’d had for weeks. All that time they spent together was in his apartment. No dinners out. No drinks. Just hiding out. With the exception of Karina, their relationship had flown completely under the radar.

  “I’m not easily embarrassed, Jane.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, but it did nothing to assuage the pain. “I have to go.”

  “Jane,” he spoke firmly, in a way that stalled her from disconnecting the call. “Our deal stands. Tomorrow night, I expect you to be at my place.”

  “Screw you.” She hung up, her eyes burning with tears. She made a guttural sound of annoyance and threw her phone down on the sofa. He had an incredible talent for making her feel ashamed of what was a perfectly legitimate job.

  She neatened the sofa cushions and tidied the lounge, then moved onto her bedroom. She did every chore she could think of to keep busy. Washing, grocery shopping, cooking. In the late afternoon, she logged onto her internet banking to pay some bills and froze when she saw the amount in her account. She’d been too busy to check up, but evidently, Carter had transferred money to her. More than she’d specified. More than she wanted.

  She glared at the screen, anger bubbling through her. He thought he owned her, and the problem was that he kind of did. She’d agreed to this arrangement, and she’d taken his money. And now, she forced herself to admit, she’d gone and fallen in love with him.

  She dropped her head to her hands and let out a wail. It was the worst. She had vowed to keep her emotions separate, and instead, she’d gone and fallen head over heels for a man who was ashamed to be seen in public with her.

  Anita returned from school, and for several hours, Jane was able to keep up a façade of normality. But as soon as her younger sister had gone to bed, she fixed Jenna with a desperate stare. “We need wine.”

  Jenna looked at her, surprised. “What’s happened? Why are you here? Why do you need wine? What’s going on?”

  Jane padded into the kitchen and pulled a merlot from above the fridge. She poured it into two coffee cups and handed one to Jenna. The one with a chipped rim, she kept for herself.

 

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