by Amelia Wilde
I sit up and flick on the lamp on my even tinier bedside table, bathing the room in its warm yellow glow. My heart pounds in my chest. I don’t know what time it is. All I know is that I’ve made a horrible mistake.
I came back to the city, back to my postage stamp of an apartment, and gorged myself on takeout Chinese until I’d successfully numbed the failure of the estate sale. And then, like any powerful, self-possessed woman, I’d climbed into bed fully dressed and fallen asleep.
Shit. Shit.
I grab for my phone, wrenching it off the charger. It’s three in the morning, and I’m wide awake.
There’s a single text message from my mother. It came in just after eleven.
How’d things go?
I never answered.
I never called, and I never sent a reply, because I was too chickenshit to call and too full of Chinese food to stay awake long enough to get that text.
I’ve made a horrible mistake.
My heartbeat is so loud it drowns out the shouts from outside. In this neighborhood, it’s relatively quiet during the day, but at night there’s always some degree of…well, general unrest, I guess. I never know what people are shouting about.
All I can think about right now is Levi Blake.
I throw my hands up above my head in frustration. All that food wasn’t enough to erase the memory of his gray eyes burning into mine, the way his suit jacket hugged muscular shoulders, the way he smelled, clean and sexy with just a hint of spice...
Heat rushes to my cheeks, and then ricochets down between my legs. Here I am, sick to my stomach at the thought of letting my family down and fantasizing about the man who embarrassed me at our estate sale. At least in the privacy of my own apartment I can admit that he was gorgeous. He was so damn hot. And if it had been anywhere else, at any other time, I might have flirted with him a little, talked to him, tried to stay by his side...
If we were alone he could wrap those powerful arms around me and sweep me off my feet, taking me to a bed or, who the hell cares, even the floor. I wouldn’t be able to struggle in those arms. I wouldn’t want to. I’d want him to take control. I’d want him to spread my legs wide with those hands of his and force me to look into his eyes while he dipped his finger into my folds, rubbing my clit until—
I slip my own hand down between my legs, shoving past my pants and underneath my panties. As soon as my own fingertips make contact with my already swollen clit the muscles in my shoulders relax. A man like Levi Blake would want me open for him, exposed to him, so that the lightning in his eyes could settle on my most private skin, making it his—
I want it so badly that I can’t hold back. It’s a furious attempt to wipe away the last of the pain from my foot and the rest of the panic from my chest, and my fingers are slick with my own juices when I come a moment later, hips jerking away from the surface of the bed. I ride the wave as long as I can, then turn over onto my side, catching my breath.
What a bastard. Levi Blake is nothing but—
I sit bolt upright in the bed, my heart in my throat.
Oh, my god.
Levi Blake is the solution. The mortifying, sexy, arrogant solution I never wanted.
But he’s the only option I’ve got.
I have to go back and get that card. I have to call Levi Blake.
I don’t want to—Jesus, it’s going to be so damn embarrassing—but he’s my best option for a solution right now, and we need one. After that disaster of an estate sale, there’s no other solution. At least, there’s not a solution that won’t take another few weeks to put into play.
I made this mess, and now I’m going to clean it up.
I won’t be able to stand looking up Levi Blake’s offices on the internet and dialing through some receptionist. I’d have to explain who I am, what I’m calling about. The number on that card—private, unlisted, unavailable to everyone else—that’s the one I need.
This can’t wait until Monday. I have to do this now.
I shove myself off the end of the bed and strip off my clothes, dropping them to the floor next to my dresser. Yoga pants and a hoodie will do—they’re clean, at least—and while I get dressed I call a car, cursing myself for not just putting that stupid little card into my purse. It’s an hour there and an hour back.
Shit. Was the cleaning staff going to come after the sale?
I take the stairs down to the lobby two at a time, praying fervently that they’re not going to show up until tomorrow.
The car is waiting outside, and I throw myself in, giving the address in the same breath.
The driver raises his eyebrows in the rearview mirror. “That’s going to be a hefty—”
“I know. I’ll pay now, if you want.” There’s a scanner in the back seat, and I’m already reaching for my card.
“No, that’s fine, miss.” He steers the car away from the curb. As we drive past the building two doors down, I see what the shouting was about. It’s a big party, people dancing on the stoop.
I don’t have time to think of them for long, because Levi Blake is back at the forefront of my thoughts. What if he doesn’t take my call? What if he laughs at me, and I have to explain to my parents that I’m the one who royally screwed up the estate sale that was supposed to save them? I remember the look in his eyes, the heated, piercing look, and a shiver runs down my spine.
What if my only chance is already gone?
Chapter 6
Levi
I drag my mouth down the line of Ruby’s collarbone, working down inch by inch until my mouth closes over her nipple. One swirl of my tongue and she’s arching back, a gasp escaping from between her pretty lips. My cock throbs in anticipation. I’m so close to claiming her.
I work one hand between her legs, putting a gentle pressure on her inner thighs. “Spread for me.” The words, growled into her ears, make her tense—but just a little, and then she’s opening wide for me, slick and hot and—
An alarm rings nearby, an insistent buzz, and Ruby’s eyes widen. I have to take my fingers away from her slit to grab for the phone and she mewls in frustration. “What is that?” Her voice is breathless, tinged with irritation.
The buzzing gets louder as I fumble with the phone. Where the hell is the button to stop all this, to silence it? Nothing on the screen makes any sense. Something must have gone wrong with the fucking thing in the middle of the night, because I can’t read anything on the screen or even on the casing. Ruby pushes herself up on her elbows, a frown on her face, and I flip it over. There are no buttons, and now the buzzing is accompanied by a shrill ring. Damn it. Damn it.
I surface from the dream with a cold rush of reality down my spine and groan into my pillow.
Who the hell is calling right now, and why?
The light filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the master bedroom is a dusky gray, tinged with pink. It’s early as hell, and yet my phone is still ringing on the bedside table. I want to throw the stupid thing to the floor, shatter it into a thousand pieces, and go back to that dream, but it’s already fading.
“Fine.” I snatch the phone from the table and squint at the screen. It’s a number I don’t recognize. Wonderful. Someone privileged enough to have my number has just cost me the most vivid dream of the last decade.
I swipe angrily across the screen and slap the phone to my ear. “Hello?” At this hour of the morning, I’m not about niceties.
“Oh, thank god.” The voice on the other end of the line, low and sweet, is filled with relief. “This—is this Levi Blake?”
“Yes. Who is this?”
“It’s—” The woman breaks off and takes in a big breath. Hopefully she’s realizing that this hour of the morning is hardly appropriate for phone calls, much less a full conversation. “This is Ruby Ashworth.”
I’m up on my elbow in an instant, trying to stifle a laugh. “No, it’s not. Who is this?”
“Ruby Ashworth.” Her voice is a little uncertain, and a moment later I
find out why. “I’m—” She swallows audibly. “I didn’t realize how early it was. I can call back later.”
“No.” I snap my lips shut, listening for the click of the line going dead. “I’m awake. Is something the matter?”
I can’t believe she’s calling. For one thing, it is five thirty in the morning. For another, I was trying to call her bluff back at the estate sale. Most times, when I start to walk out the door, whoever it is will rush after me, and then we can get to the real negotiating. For Ruby to hold out for almost a full day means… I’m not totally sure what it means, but I’m impressed.
Ruby lets out a laugh, short and just on the edge of being bitter. “Well, my estate sale was a total flop.”
“Aha.” I fall back against the pillows, running a hand through my hair. “So you do need me after all.”
She sighs, and there’s a pause—one heartbeat, then two. “Yes. I guess there’s no other way to put it.” There’s another short pause, like she’s busy swallowing her pride. “I wanted to talk to you about the offer you made on the contents of the house.”
“At five thirty in the morning?”
“I was in a little bit of a rush.”
“I’m dying to know why.” I really am. I gave her that card yesterday. There was plenty of time to call at any one of the decent hours between then and now.
“If you must know…”
“I must.”
“If you must know,” Ruby begins again, “I was worried I’d lost your number.”
“Did you lose my card?”
“I didn’t…lose it so much as throw it away.”
“But you got it back?” An image of Ruby digging through some dumpster hidden on her family property’s grounds makes laughter bubble up in my chest.
“The cleaning crew hasn’t been through yet.”
“Let me get this straight.” This conversation is not at all what I was expecting when I realized Ruby was the person on the other end of the line. It’s too familiar, like we’re not perfect strangers, and a wave of heat moves through my chest. Maybe it’s the early hour of the morning, but what the hell do I care? I’m going to go with it. I’ll go with it until she decides she hates me again. “You rushed downstairs and dug through a waste bin to find the card I gave you, and then you called me immediately…just in case I’d disappeared?”
Ruby laughs again, and this time it’s not bitter. It’s disbelieving. “It wasn’t that simple.”
“You rushed…outside?”
“I’m not living at my parents’ house anymore, Mr. Blake.”
“I think we’re at the point where you can call me Levi.”
“Oh, are we?” I can hear the amusement in her voice.
“You did call me and wake me up at five thirty. That must mean we’re close acquaintances, at least.”
Her sigh is a little heavier. “I’m not sure I want to be close…acquaintances with the man who…never mind. It looks like I might not have much of a choice.”
“Like I said. You need me.”
“I need to talk to you, yes.”
“Where are you right now?”
“At—” I can practically see her shaking her head. “I’m at my apartment. Where are you?”
“At my penthouse. I can meet you in forty-five minutes, if you want to discuss the estate.”
There’s a silence. “You really don’t have to do that. I’m assuming you have an office, or a…a showroom of some kind. I could stop by on my lunch break tomorrow or Tuesday, and—”
“Ruby Ashworth, you woke me up at this ungodly hour, and now you won’t even meet me for breakfast?”
Another laugh that sends a jolt of pure joy through my veins. “You have a fair point. Where should we meet?”
I name my favorite breakfast place.
“Okay. Forty-five minutes?”
“I’ll see you then.”
The line goes dead, and I climb out of bed and head for the master bathroom.
Next on my agenda: find out just how badly she needs me.
Chapter 7
Ruby
I wrap my hands around the delicate coffee mug, inhaling the steam rising from the top, and steel myself to be stood up.
It’s so stupidly early that I can’t believe I dialed that number. I can’t believe I didn’t hang up on the first ring. And most of all, I can’t believe that Levi Blake actually picked up. I sure as hell wouldn’t have. I don’t take calls from unknown numbers as a general rule, and if one woke me up before six in the morning...
Well, I’d probably already be awake. Sleep hasn’t been my forte since Henry’s accident. Since everything started caving in around us. No matter how hard I try, I can’t quite connect the dots. The company my father founded with his best college friend was a massive success...until it wasn’t. One drug trial gone wrong—and admittedly, it went very wrong, with one woman dying and another left needing extensive surgery to repair the nerve damage done by the experimental cancer drug—and the whole thing went belly up.
Worse, my father didn’t reveal to anyone—not even my mother—that he’d been leveraging their combined personal assets in order to try to keep the company afloat. Every penny he’d paid to the best PR firms in the country couldn’t keep the investors coming back, though, and by the time Henry’s accident happened, there wasn’t much left. That was the last straw. But Henry, that reckless brother of mine, hadn’t exactly planned in advance for a catastrophe either.
There should have been a plan. Something to bail them out in case everything went south.
“I hope you weren’t waiting long.”
I look up from the coffee mug and into those same startling gray eyes, dotted with silver flecks that catch the early morning light spilling in from the cafe’s windows. Not that this is much of a cafe in any traditional—or TV—sense. It’s not some greasy spoon. Sunrise, tucked in on the ground floor of a building on the Upper East Side, is more high-end dinner establishment than diner. If it weren’t six thirty in the morning, I’d feel underdressed.
But all of Sunrise—the white linen tablecloths, the delicately printed menus, the fine crystal reflecting that same sunlight—pales in comparison to Levi Blake. He doesn’t look like he was just rudely awoken by a woman who may as well be a stranger. His sandy hair isn’t rumpled in the least. He’s also making workout casual—a pair of sweatpants and a matching hoodie, both of which look like something I could have afforded just last year—look every bit as sexy as the suit he was wearing when I saw him yesterday.
My heart pounds at the sight of him, grinning down at me like I’m not a total monster who calls people before it’s even really light out. “Hi...Levi.” It takes me just too long to work up the courage and say his name, a hot flush of desire and embarrassment working over my cheeks.
“You make it sound so sensual.” He takes the seat across from me, totally at ease, and picks up one of the menus.
The flush spreads from my face down to my core. “What?”
“My name.”
“Yes, well...” I clear my throat, putting down the coffee mug and picking up a menu. I have no idea what to order, but my stomach growls at even the names of food. Get onto neutral ground, you idiot. “What’s good here?”
“What’s good here?” Levi raises his eyebrows. “This isn’t my favorite place for nothing.”
“I didn’t know this was your favorite.”
“Favorite breakfast place.”
“And lunch?” I ask the question automatically.
“What is this, our first date?”
I laugh out loud, unable to hide my nervousness. “Wait—stop.” I put down the menu, holding both hands in the air. “I ask you what your favorite lunch place is, and suddenly we’re on a date?”
“Your words, not mine.”
I blink across the table at Levi, my face frozen between a smile and a look of pure confusion. “Maybe we should back up.” He waves one hand at me in invitation. “I called you because—because
I need to talk about my parents’ estate. And now you’re—”
“A bit of an insufferable flirt?”
He’s stolen the words right from my mouth. “Yeah. That’s what I’d say.”
“You wouldn’t be the first.”
I can hardly catch my breath. What the hell is Levi’s game? “I’m...at a loss.”
“For money or for words?” He rests his chin against his palm.
I’m caught between a flash of anger followed by the urge to laugh out loud. “Who are you?”
He extends his hand like this is the first time we’ve ever met. “Levi Blake. Collector and owner of Blake’s Auction House.”
I take his hand and shake it with as much confidence as I can possibly muster, trying my damnedest to ignore the shock that runs from his palm to straight between my legs. “Ruby Ashworth. Woman who just wants to have a successful estate sale.”
He takes his hand back and I suck in a breath. I want more of that. I want more of his hands on me. But there’s no way I could ever be with someone like Levi—someone who walks into people’s homes and bids so ruthlessly, someone who turns on a dime like this, becoming a flirtatious, sexy—
“I disagree.”
“Disagree about which part, the woman or the estate sale?” The words tumbling from my mouth fly out on autopilot, but I’m relieved that the retort makes any sense at all.
He gives me a grin that sets my core on fire. “The estate sale. If you really wanted it to be a success, you would have negotiated with me right away. That would have been the easiest thing to do and probably given you the best outcome. But you decided to sell items piecemeal, to any idiot who walked in the door. You didn’t want anyone to buy any of your family’s things. You’re one of those people, who clings to absolutely everything.”
My stomach twists into a knot at the memory of it. I only saw a few people leaving with items in their hands, but they’re burned into my mind. And, damn it, there goes my chin, quivering. The tears, though—those take even me by surprise. I grab for the cloth napkin in my lap. Jesus, could this get any more embarrassing?