Given: Highest Bidder

by Willow Winters

  I scoot closer to her and rest my hand on her thigh as I lean in and whisper against the shell of her ear. “A lot of the women in there are going to be jealous of you tonight.”

  She turns quickly in her seat to look me in the eyes. “Because they want you?” she asks softly. There’s an expression in her eyes I don’t recognize, maybe fear, but I'm not sure.

  “No,” I say and I can feel my forehead pinch as I continue, “Just because you’re so beautiful.” Her cheeks stain with that beautiful red and she looks away, pushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

  Time passes as we both sway slightly in the limo, the comfortable silence stretching between us. My phone dings, and I’m quick to see who it is. With these functions, there’s always someone who wants to ensure they’ll be seen talking to me.

  I’ve already missed half a dozen messages and two phone calls, several of which are from my father. I sigh and lean back in my seat, leaving the warmth of her small frame and focusing on work. She scoots closer to me, resting her hand on my thigh and leaning against me. I wait for her to say something, giving her the attention she needs, but she doesn’t say a thing. I wrap my arm around her and continue to check my email as she lays her head against me and looks out of the window. She’s simply happy to be held.

  The limo comes to a stop, and it’s only when Marcus opens his door that I realize we’re here already.

  “Wait here,” I tell her as she reaches for the door. “I’ll get out first, then open your door. You will not slide across the seat. Instead I want you to wait for me there,” I say and nod toward her door.

  “I can do that. I will do that.” She holds my gaze as she answers me, and something flickers between us. She wants to please me. And I know she can. A small smile grows on my face and it’s then that I realize I’ve been more of myself around her than I should have been. I’ve given her a glimpse behind the mask. Instead of feeling threatened, something else settles in my chest, leaning against my heart for a moment until I hear the rap of knuckles at my door. Marcus is waiting, asking for permission to open my door.

  I pull the handle and step out, immediately struck by the bright lights at the front entrance and the sparkle of gowns adorned in jewels from the crowd out front. Many turn to look to see who’s arrived. It’s show time. I recognize four men instantly, sharing a knowing look between them as they nod my way.

  I fasten the middle button of my jacket and turn my back to them as I walk around the limo to open Arianna’s door. The conversations continue behind me and another limo pulls up behind us. Waiting.

  As I open her door and reach my hand out for her, I know many of them are watching us. My heart hammers against my chest as I question if I’ve done the right thing.

  If I’d kept her a secret, they’d have thought the worst of me. They would have come to the conclusion that I was just like Brooks. I need them to think otherwise. To believe in the character I’ve created. Most shouldn’t know, but I’m not a fool. All men talk, and these circles are small but well connected.

  It’s reasonable for them to think that I’ve had a crush on her. And I’ll be playing up that part tonight, starting with the kiss I plant on the back of her hand as she stands on the pavement.

  A warm blush travels to her cheeks and she naturally smiles at me, batting her lashes and waiting for me. She’s stunning and seems shy. She’s acting brilliantly. Playing the perfect role, although the idea that it’s an act makes me tense.

  I whisper in her ear, “Be good for me.” And then I plant a small kiss on her cheek. As I pull away to look into her eyes, something changes in her expression. She’s stiff as she nods her head, and I question my decision to be so open.

  To me, this is an act. But to her… maybe it is something else.

  I plant a kiss on her lips, ignoring the spark igniting from the instant touch and wrap my arm around her waist.

  She only breathes once we’ve made it to the foyer and, even then, she still looks struck with surprise. A good surprise.

  If I can keep her like this all night, her presence will only make me look as though this is a genuine attraction.

  I force the smile to stay on my face as my father walks toward me, a stern expression firmly in place as his eyes flicker to Arianna and then back to me.

  I part with her for a moment, leaving her at the entrance of the foyer with the whispered words, “Stay here.”

  She doesn’t have time to acknowledge me as I take large steps away from her to meet my father. My father is a loose cannon, and I don’t like the way he looks at my sweetheart. And whatever he has to say, it won’t be said in front of her. I won’t allow it.

  My defenses rise as he stops in front of me, talking beneath his breath.

  “You brought her?” he asks with an air of disbelief. My expression is like stone, fixed in place. Even the jovial glint in my eyes stays in place.

  “Why wouldn’t I?” I ask him, feeling the smile on my face.

  “From what I’ve heard, she should be in your bedroom… or someone else’s.” A huff of a laugh rises up my chest as I look away from my father and back to the crowd, turning to look over my shoulder and back to Arianna who’s waiting for me patiently.

  “Let me get her comfortable,” I tell my father. “I’ll talk to you later tonight,” I say and pat his arm as if it was a pleasant conversation and he finally releases me. I have no intention of speaking to him again tonight. Or tomorrow.

  Adrenaline races in my blood as I leave him behind me and walk toward Arianna. The entire crowd is stealing glances at her as I hold out my arm to her. Watching her. Watching us.

  I do need to find out what he knows though, how the fuck he found out about her so quickly, and who else is aware of the situation.

  And more importantly, I need to figure out where the information came from.

  Chapter 18

  Arianna

  “Is it hot in here to you?” Dahlia asks, fanning herself with the fancy dinner menu that was given to all the guests in attendance. I tear my eyes away from the throng of people filling the dining room, turning them on Dahlia. I’ve been busy looking for Zander, who seems to have gotten lost in the crowd. Shortly after arriving, he led me to this table and told me to sit down after quickly introducing me to Dahlia and Lucian Stone.

  It’s been ten minutes so far, and he’s still not back yet.

  I pick nervously at my fingernails as I flash her a friendly smile, shaking my head, trying to hide my anxiety. This is yet another place that I feel out of place, a place where wealth and gaudy opulence is on proud display. It was easier with him here with me. All the guests are dressed in finery, and while I’m dressed similarly, I know it’s all paid for by Zander. “No, it feels fine to me,” I answer her.

  Though we haven’t spoken much since Zander ran off, I like Dahlia. She’s gorgeous with a charismatic charm that makes me feel like I already know her. I’ve seen her in passing a few times at Club X, but never really talked to her before today. And I’m sure as shit not going to bring that up. I hope she doesn’t recognize me. I keep stealing glances and she doesn’t seem to make the connection. If she does, she’s not judging me.

  If she knew the circumstances, I’m sure she would be.

  I think it’s amazing that she’s actually married to someone that is her Dom, although I guess it’s more of a kink for them than a lifestyle. That’s just an assumption though. I know he used to be her Dom. I nervously glance down to my fingers, tangling them as I remember seeing them in the club. I didn’t know it was him, but I recognize her.

  Lucian’s been nothing but gracious to his wife. I glance over at him, noting how smooth he looks in his dapper tuxedo. He’s a handsome man, and part of his personality reminds me of Zander’s. Looking out into the crowd, he has an aura of power about him.

  “Oh,” Dahlia mutters, fanning herself fervently and wiping at her brow. I love the dress she’s wearing, a white lace number that’s provocative yet chaste. She pract
ically glows in it. “I’m burning up.”

  As if summoned by her complaint, a male waiter in uniform shows up at her side with a tray of ice-cold drinks. They’re made with a soda base, but that’s all I can tell from the small bubbles on the glass and the ones still clinging to the crushed lemons and limes at the bottom of each.

  “Would you care for a refreshment?” he asks us, offering the tray.

  I expect Dahlia to down the cold beverage immediately, but she looks at the drink warily. “Is there alcohol in this?” she asks the waiter with her head tilted slightly.

  The waiter, a young blond man with charming dimples, smiles and replies cheerfully, “It’s the signature cocktail for this evening. Citrus vodka and Sprite.”

  Dahlia immediately shakes her head vigorously. “Oh no, thank you though. May I have a glass of water please?”

  “Of course.” The waiter nods his head before scurrying off.

  Lucian places a hand on Dahlia’s, rubbing it gently. “Relax, Treasure.”

  Despite my anxiety, a slight smile plays across my lips. I love the way Lucian calls Dahlia his Treasure. It makes me feel fuzzy inside, but also like I’m intruding on a moment when he looks at her like that.

  “I’m trying,” Dahlia replies, instantly at ease by her husband’s touch.

  Their breezy interaction stirs a longing in me.

  “I’m sorry,” Dahlia says, looking over at me and I realize I’ve been staring. Shit, I hope she doesn’t think I’m being rude.

  “No, no, you’re fine,” I speak quickly.

  “I’m just not used to these things yet, and…” she pauses in her thought, glancing at Lucian as if looking for his consent.

  He gives her a reassuring nod, lightly squeezing her hand. “You know I don’t mind, Treasure.”

  A relieved smile spreads across Dahlia's face and she squeals to me, “We’re four weeks!”

  It takes me a moment to understand what she means. Four weeks… pregnant!

  “Oh wow,” I breathe. “Congratulations!” I can feel her excitement radiating off of her.

  “Thank you,” Dahlia murmurs, shaking her head. “I still can’t believe it. I think I checked with the doctor at least five times before finally accepting it as reality.”

  “It must be an amazing feeling,” I say.

  “It is,” Dahlia agrees. “And I have this guy over here,” she stabs her thumb at Lucian, who chuckles, “to thank for it.”

  The two exchange a few looks and I smile, trying to let them have their moment by looking away and sipping the water in my hand while I turn back to the crowd and look for Zander.

  I’m about to give up when I spot him near a huge column, talking to his father. A sinking feeling tugs at my stomach as I watch the two men speak to each other. Judging by his father's stiff body language and sharp gestures, I think they’re arguing. Although with Zander’s expression, maybe not. I feel caught in their exchange.

  I wonder what they’re fighting over. Me, a voice in the back of my head says as I take another nervous sip of my drink. I recognized Dahlia, so I wonder how many men recognize me. And I wouldn’t have a clue. They all wear masks in the club. My suspicions are only increased when the man glances my way, a scowl on his face.

  For a moment, I feel the urge to jump up and leave, but before I can move, Zander turns from the man, and strides toward us. I’m quiet as Lucian says something in Dahlia’s ear. I peek up and he has a look of sympathy on his face. He knows. I feel sick. I feel Zander next to me before I see him.

  “Is everything alright?” I ask Zander as he glides down into the seat next to mine.

  Zander gives me a charming smile. “Of course.”

  He’s so smooth with his response that I almost believe him. But I know what I saw.

  “So how are things going?” Lucian asks Zander, still holding Dahlia’s hand. I watch as his thumb rubs soothing circles on the back of Dahlia’s hand.

  Their conversation fades into the background as I sit there quietly, my eyes on Dahlia. I can’t stop thinking about how happy she looks as she listens to the conversation, a hand on her belly. I bet she’ll make a wonderful mother. My throat feels dry as I try to swallow, and I have to bring the glass to my lips and sip the cool water slowly.

  “Arianna is an artist,” Zander boasts, drawing me out of my thoughts. Lucian looks at me with respect. “Really? That’s wonderful.”

  I blush furiously. “It’s nothing really,” I downplay. Zander’s acting as if I’m an actual painter. I’m not. “It’s just a hobby.”

  “Nonsense,” Zander says. “I saw your work. It speaks for itself.”

  “It’s not in any galleries or anything like that,” I argue.

  “Good enough for me,” Zander says firmly.

  My cheeks redden even more as Lucian and Dahlia observe our exchange.

  “Well that’s wonderful,” Lucian says, grinning. “I’ve been thinking about getting a portrait of Dahlia done when she’s further along.” He glances at his wife, pride in his eyes before looking back at me to say, “Maybe you could do the honor?”

  I don’t have a moment to respond before Dahlia’s eyes widen and she reaches across the small table to grab my hand. “I would love that,” she says and her voice is so full of hope. She looks back at Lucian as though he’s just given her a wonderful surprise. “Could you do something like that?” she asks me.

  “I haven’t done portraits before, but I could.” I nod my head slightly although I feel anxious.

  Zander reaches behind me and gently massages my back, causing sparks of electricity along wherever he touches. “I’m sure you can,” he assures me, his tone encouraging.

  I turn to look at him, to thank him, feeling a warmth and relaxation flowing through me, but the moment I do, I freeze.

  I didn’t know Danny was going to be here.

  Chapter 19

  Zander

  I can practically feel him the moment he enters. That fucker, Danny Brooks. It’s not because of his voice laughing behind me. Or the way Lucian narrows his eyes slightly and pulls Dahlia closer to his side. It’s my sweetheart’s reaction. Arianna tenses immediately, sucking in a breath between her teeth and straightening her back.

  Her eyes lose the brightness that I’ve only just brought back.

  I lean in close to her, ignoring the look from Lucian and rub the tip of my nose behind her ear. “Relax,” I whisper into her ear and gently kiss the tender skin on her upper neck. Her soft hair tickles my nose as I do. I’m a hypocrite for telling her to relax. Nearly a dozen of the men in this room here know I’ve bought her. They know who she is, and they also know she used to be his.

  She hasn’t noticed the way they’ve been looking at her. But I have.

  Not a single fucker in this room has a clue that this was designed by Brooks. That he gave her to me to pay his debt, and that this is all a facade. Unless he’s told them.

  I keep the smile plastered on my face as the thought hits me. Bringing the flute to my lips, I take a swig of the sweet champagne, the bubbles tickling the roof of my mouth.

  If the men here know that he’s given her to me, they’re also well aware that I’m letting him pay his debts with her.

  And that can’t fucking happen.

  I hear Brooks laugh again, although it’s fainter this time and from across the room through a crowd of people. He should know better than to tell anyone about the arrangement. But he’s not a smart man. I put the empty flute to my lips, the glass resting against my bottom lip.

  A shiver travels down my arms as Dahlia gently touches Lucian’s arm to grab his attention, completely oblivious to the entire situation. Arianna looks away, her head in the opposite direction as Brooks.

  I’m struck by the sweet cadence of her voice as a waitress walking by asks for her drink. She politely tells her she’s fine as I pass the empty glass to the young woman and she sets it on her silver tray.

  “Would you like some fresh air?” Dahlia asks Arianna,
and she obediently looks to me before answering.

  Lucian speaks up before Arianna can answer, saying, “I could use a moment away from the crowds.” His voice is low and only intended for his wife.

  “Go ahead,” I tell Arianna, nodding my head toward the French doors. She seems a bit more at ease and I think it’d be best if she got the hell out of this room.

  “I need to go to the restroom; I’ll meet you out there,” I answer Arianna and expect her to simply obey. Her hand reaches out to grab my arm as I turn. She’s quick to correct herself, shifting slightly with her expression falling and an apology on her lips.

  “It’s alright,” I tell her softly before she can utter a single word, taking her hand in mind and rubbing soothing circles on the back of her knuckles. I stare deep into her dark green eyes and that’s when her reality hits me.

  I haven’t even considered what she’s been through. My stomach churns with a sickness. What has he done to her? In a room full of people, all the noises and lights dim to nothing, merely blurs in my periphery as I take in the sadness and fear behind her eyes.

  “I’ve got her,” Lucian says, snapping my gaze to his and breaking the small moment of clarity. As he reaches out to her in a casual manner, I nearly rip her away from him, from everyone. In the split second of a moment, I just want to take her away.

  I clear my throat, remembering where we are. I straighten my suit and give her a small peck on the cheek. My hand splays across her lower back as I guide her toward Lucian. “I’ll be right back, sweetheart.”

  With a tight smile, she nods her head obediently. Always obeying.

  “Don’t let her leave your sight,” I tell Lucian low enough so only he can hear me. He nods and instinctively glances back toward the crowd, to Brooks.

  The smile on my face is nowhere to be seen as I watch him take her away from me, his wife on his right and Arianna on his left.