by Amelia Wilde
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 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 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 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 best to ignore the shock that runs from his palm to straight between my legs. “Ruby Ashworth. Woman who 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. 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?
“Ruby—” His voice isn’t teasing any more. “Forgive me.”
I force myself to look back into his eyes, patting mine with the napkin like it was all an error on the part of my tear ducts. “You know, it’s nothing. You’re right—I didn’t want to sell anything.”
He considers me, narrowing his eyes. “Then why call me this early in the morning? If you don’t want to sell, why are we sitting here having this conversation?”
I square my shoulders and swallow my pride. “Because I’m out of options. I screwed up the estate sale. I can’t afford to screw it up a second time.” Then I say the words I’d hoped to avoid—for a lifetime, if possible. “I need you.”
8
Levi
This is not how solid deals are made. Not at all. Not in the slightest. In my experience, the best profits are made when you can follow through on a lowball offer and find something truly spectacular in the bargain. That’s what I was trying to do with the Ashworth estate.
And then Ruby entered the picture.
It was one thing to fantasize about stripping off those demure, preppy clothes and showing her the kind of hard, hot sex that makes even the most frigid upper-class women melt, but hearing her say I need you in that voice—the soft, low voice that sends tendrils of want into my ears and down my spine—it’s too much.
I’m getting what I deserved. I’m the one who threw that one in her face when I left. Karma is a bitch.
Because now what am I supposed to do? She needs me. I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours wishing she was mine, and now she’s practically asking for me to rescue her.
Not that she really does need rescuing. I can’t decide if the vulnerability is a front or not, but I know that beneath all of it she has a steel backbone. She turned me down once.
Which means that if she’s here right now, she must think she needs me to get through this, even if...even if she could muscle her way through on her own.
I straighten up, pretending that her words had little effect. I’m not in the business of being a therapist. I’m in the business of collecting priceless items and selling them to people who want them even more than I do.
“You’ve said the magic words.”
Her big blue eyes are on mine, so focused that I wonder if she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she looks away. “The magic words for...” Her voice goes softer at the end, and she bites her lip.
“I’ll help you.”
She raises her chin an inch. “I didn’t ask for help.”
“You said you needed me.”
“I do need you, but—” Another blush rises to her cheeks. “I don’t need you to feel sorry for me. I need—” She shakes her head. “This is a disaster.”
“It’s really not. Are you asking if I’ll reconsider the offer that I made?”
That seems to put her back on solid ground, and her eyes brighten with determination. “Yes. I wanted to know if that offer was still on the table.”
I take a long moment, like I’m deciding right now. Then I give her a firm nod. “It is.”
“Okay. I’m going to reject that offer.”
I can’t help it—I burst out laughing. A smile raises the corner of Ruby’s mouth. “You woke me up and agreed to meet me here so you could reject my offer a second time?”
“I wanted to reject it and offer a counter proposal.”
I fold my hands on the table.
The waiter appears at my elbow. “Can I offer you something to drink?”
“Coffee. Black. And we’ll both have the pancakes.”
He nods at me and turns on his heel, gone as quickly as he came.
“Where were we?” I look back into those blue eyes and try to ignore the blood rushing to my cock.
“You ordered for me?”
“I didn’t want to derail what’s quickly becoming a delicious conversation. Also, the pancakes here are wonderful.”
She leans back a little, crossing her arms over
her chest, but she’s still smiling. “Don’t you want to hear my counter offer?”
“No.” Her mouth drops open a little. “First, before we get any further into this, I want to know what brought you back to the table.”
“I thought I might get a man to order pancakes for me.”
I laugh again. Ruby isn’t all innocence and vulnerability, then. She’s also got a wit that makes me want to hang around her all day in case I get to hear another one of those gems, dry delivery and all, slip from between her lips. “Your dream came true. But you did seem pretty determined not to deal with me earlier.”
She glances down at her cup of coffee. “To be honest, I thought more would sell during the day.”
“And when it didn’t?”
She sighs. “When it didn’t, I realized it was all my fault. After you left, I might have...given some poor direction to the man whose company was running the sale.”
“What kind of direction?”
“Not to negotiate.”
I don’t laugh this time, because her expression is already hot with shame. “That probably didn’t help.”
“Not at all.”
“And no part of you was relieved? There must be another option for some of those things.”
Ruby bites her lip. “That’s the problem.” She swallows. “I don’t know how much you’ve heard…” She forces her gaze back to mine. “My family is in pretty dire financial straits. They need every penny to dig themselves out of a hole with my brother’s medical bills. And my parents need a place to live. They’re selling their home—that home—to get out of trouble with the mortgage.”
“What about you?”
Her face goes scarlet. “I have a job. Once my father’s business collapsed, I stopped getting payments from the trust he’d set up for my brother and me, so I’ve had to...I’ve had to downsize a little. But I can make ends meet.”
Okay, so she does have a backbone.
The pancakes arrive. They’re plated as delicately as any dinner entree, and each one is so perfect it seems like a shame to cut into it with a fork. Ruby takes a deep inhale. “Holy god, these smell amazing.”
“They taste even better. Don’t forget the—” I’m about to remind her that the syrup is also top-notch, but she’s already cutting into the side of one of the pancakes with her fork and lifting it to her lips. Once it’s on her tongue, she tips her head back, eyes closed.
She swallows.
It’s all I can do not to leap across the table and kiss her, explore her mouth with my tongue, taste that sweetness for myself.
Then she opens her eyes. “The best pancakes don’t need syrup. And those are the best I’ve ever had.”
“I’m glad.” I’m also so hard that it’s killing me. Killing me. “I have a proposal.”
Her eyes twinkle as she goes back in for another bite. “What is it? That you—that you take over the estate, and we negotiate on a better offer?”
“That as soon as we’re done eating, we go up to your family’s house and you let me see what’s on offer. Then we deal.”
She looks right into my eyes, hers filled with hope and what I think might be nerves. She’s probably going to say no.
I brace for the disappointment.
9
Ruby
Levi’s town car cruises down I-87, gliding through the traffic, and I try not to act like I’m about to lose my mind.
I couldn’t say no to him. I had been hoping to flesh out a deal right then, but under the spell of his eyes, I couldn’t say no. So I didn’t. I told him that he had to be the one to drive.
And now…
Eating pancakes at a diner with him is one thing. Being in the back of his town car, this close, with his scent filling the air, is on another level. I don’t know what kind of soap he uses, but mixed with his bare skin, it’s making every breath a kind of paradise. And a kind of hell, because I want to press my face against the side of his neck. Then my lips. Then my tongue.
Yes. I want to lick his bare skin, and the thought has my cheeks on fire.
Levi mistakes it for nervousness about the house. “Don’t feel embarrassed about what your parents are selling.”
“I don’t.” I say it too quickly, which is highly convincing. I look into his gray eyes. “I really don’t. I’m only nervous that—” I swallow hard. That I might leap across the seat and straddle you right now, and that might be awkward for both of us. “That there might not be anything there that’s valuable enough for you to...be interested in.”
He grins, a half-smile that’s half teasing, too. “I did make you an offer. Yesterday morning.”
“Yes, but that was the kind of offer I bet you’d give if you were...gambling.”
“Gambling?”
I don’t want to accuse him of any shady behavior, but it’s already out there. “That seemed like the kind of offer you would make if you weren’t a hundred percent sure that there would be some really great pieces in the house.” I bite my lip.
Levi laughs out loud. “You’re right.”
“Then I was also right to be insulted. We have a lot of priceless things.”
“We? I thought this estate was your parents’.”
“Well...family pieces.” Saying the words makes my throat go tight. Don’t ask. Don’t ask...
He asks.
“Is that why you took it so personally, what I said?”
“Which thing that you said? It’s not like you’ve been walking on eggshells.” I force a smile.
“I was referring to my initial offer.” He narrows his eyes, thinking. “Although it could also apply to one of the more...insensitive comments I made at breakfast.”
I take a deep breath. “Yes. In a way. I’m—” I search for the right words. “I’m glad to be able to do this for my parents, but it’s not easy. It’s much harder than I thought it would be. Most of those things—”
“They were supposed to be yours.”
“Yes.” I swallow the ache that pulses in my throat. “They were supposed to be mine.”
Levi looks at me for a long moment, his hand rising from his lap. But he doesn’t reach over. He picks up his phone instead, but doesn’t make any move to look at the screen.
“You mentioned you had a job. Where do you work?”
The tightness in my chest loosens a little, and the insane, bright desire building between my legs is front and center in an instant. “I work for a publishing house called Drawstring Press that my dad invested in back in the beginning of his career. He’s not involved now, so don’t think—” I look across at Levi, and he’s grinning. “Don’t think I got my job because of my dad.”
“I don’t know why that would be a problem. I got mine because of my father.”
“Your father was an antiques dealer?”
“Not quite. Before he died, he was a billionaire. He made his money in banking.”
Oh, shit. “I’m sorry to hear that—that he’s passed away.”
“It’s alright. He’s been gone about ten years now. Cancer.” Levi says it matter-of-factly, not looking away from me for even a single moment. “It’s a bitch.”
“It is. My mom—she had a brush with breast cancer when I was in high school. That was scary enough.”
He nods, and we’re silent together for a moment. “So you...love to read?”
“Yes. And it’s a good thing, because I’m in acquisitions, so I’m always reading.” I leave out the fact that living in a one-bedroom apartment roughly the size of the closet I had growing up is becoming a problem. I bring home far too many manuscripts for the space, and they’re piling up everywhere.
A flutter of panic rises in my chest. I don’t want to admit it—not even to Levi—but the job at Drawstring was only a hobby until everything came crashing down a few months ago. If something doesn’t change, it’s not going to be sustainable for me to live in the city. I don’t want to leave New York. So if the estate sale goes well—this time, at least—and I can dig us o
ut of this hole, if we can get things back together...
“What are you thinking about?”
“What I’m going to do if all our antiques don’t pan out.” But I don’t want to keep the focus on this situation. I don’t want to spend all day today fretting about having to find another job somewhere across the country and leave all this behind. “What are you thinking about?”
“You.”
I search Levi’s eyes to see if he’s joking, but there’s a heat there now that I can’t ignore. I suck in a breath. “What—what about me?”
There’s an energy crackling in the air between us, filling up the back of the town car, and I’m ridiculously grateful for the partition that separates us from the driver.
“I was thinking about...” His voice is low and smooth and polished, and the sound of it is like having his fingertips running down the length of my spine, down and down and down until they’re between my legs. “...How you’re managing to do all this. Most people I know wouldn’t go to such great lengths to smooth out one less-than-stellar estate sale.”
“It wasn’t really great lengths. It was one phone call.”
His grin is downright sultry. “It was one phone call to a man you’d sent packing the day before. You didn’t stop there, either. You let me get out of bed and come to meet you. You let me buy you breakfast. And you’re still willing to deal, even though I think—and I could be wrong—I think you’d rather not sell a single thing inside that house.” Then he laughs, and it vibrates all the way to my core. “There’s more to you than meets the eye, Ruby Ashworth.”
I’m running so hot that I’m concerned the entire back of the town car might combust, and he hasn’t even touched me. “Don’t tempt me, Levi.” The need in my voice surprises me. “I might show you more.”