Sold to the Hottest Bidder

by Layla Valentine

  Reading the options on the menu made Eva’s mouth water. If Ari wouldn’t help her, then she was screwed—but if he at least heard her out, she might get a good meal out of the situation. Braised leeks with hazelnut brown butter…scallops with porcini mushroom dust…chilled lobster with crab and cod roe. Everything on the menu sounded like the most delicious thing that she could put in her mouth. Eva sighed as quietly as possible.

  Movement in the corner of her eye pulled Eva’s attention away from the menu. She set it down and looked up in time to see the hostess bringing Ari Christodoulou to the table. His gaze landed on her and his eyes widened; Eva’s heart beat faster in her chest as she considered the possibility that she might—once more—have overplayed her hand. For an instant, she worried that he might out her, might disgrace her. Instead he merely sat down at the table and thanked the hostess for her attendance.

  “Where did you get my number?” he asked quietly.

  “Business card,” Eva admitted.

  “That was pretty clever,” Christodoulou said. “Laurette would be appalled, of course—but somehow I doubt that you care very much about that.”

  Eva smiled wryly. “Means to an end,” she told him.

  “So tell me why I shouldn’t get up and walk away? Maybe tell the hostess that I’m being stalked?” Christodoulou looked in the direction the blonde had gone in.

  “I’m in a predicament.”

  “I figured as much,” the Greek said, smiling slightly. “Tell me about it, and let’s see if it’s something I might be interested in.”

  Before Eva could explain, however, the waiter arrived. Eva hesitated, holding Christodoulou’s gaze with one eyebrow raised in question.

  “I think we’ll take the tasting menu,” Christodoulou told the man, setting the menu aside. “With the white Bordeaux.”

  “So,” Eva said, pressing her lips together as she fought down the sense of pride that rose up in her, paradoxically, in reaction to having to expose herself. “You were right about me being a faker.”

  “Of course,” Christodoulou said with a shrug. His lips twitched with amusement. “I’m surprised no one else caught onto it.”

  “I’m pretty good at faking,” Eva told him. She took a quick, deep breath and drank a sip of her water. “Anyway, I obviously don’t have a hundred million dollars to spend on an apartment.” She sighed. “I don’t even have the ten million that the deposit would require.”

  “How much do you have to your name?”

  Eva snickered softly. “When my last paycheck from my job posts, I’ll have about three thousand dollars in the bank—if that.” She cringed at the idea of it; the pay would see her through maybe another month of rent, bills and food—but she knew she was going to have a difficult time after that, especially since she knew it would be near impossible to find a new job.

  “Well, obviously you won’t be living in that apartment then,” Christodoulou said with a shrug.

  “The problem is deeper than that,” Eva admitted. Their first course arrived and she waited for the waiter to explain the food on their plates and the wine he was pouring into their glasses before she continued. When the waiter bowed out, Eva looked at Christodoulou once more. “The realtor tried to get me arrested.”

  “For pretending to be a rich person?” The Greek laughed quietly. “That’s not a crime.”

  “She tried to claim it was fraud, but the police didn’t go for it.”

  “So if the police wouldn’t arrest you, what’s the issue?”

  Eva took the first bite of her food; it was an amuse-bouche made of quick-cured fish, finely diced radish and micro greens. The flavors spread over her tongue and Eva sighed with pleasure.

  “The issue is that the realtor is going to sue me,” Eva said. “She thinks that I’ve ruined her sale—and I guess technically she’s right about that, since you were the only one willing to put up the amount she wanted.”

  “Who are you really?” Christodoulou finished off his first course and took a sip of his wine. “When you’re not pretending to be some kind of heiress, I mean.”

  Eva held his gaze for a long moment; Christodoulou was clearly enjoying the advantage he had over her.

  “I work in a call center,” Eva admitted. “Well, I used to work in a call center. In that building, in fact. I got fired yesterday.”

  “And went up to the open house to amuse yourself, maybe have a couple of free drinks?”

  Eva nodded. “That’s about the size of it.”

  “So what is it that you want me to do?”

  Eva finished off the last bite of her food and set the plate aside.

  “I figure if you buy the apartment, she can’t come after me,” Eva said with a shrug. “Or she could, but I don’t see why she would.”

  “That’s a possibility,” Christodoulou said, nodding. Eva had to wait for the rest of his response; the waiter arrived with two bus boys and cleared the table of their first course before placing the second in front of them: slices of paper-thin raw beef, dressed with oil and vinegar, salt and pepper, and more micro greens. Eva ate a bite of her food and washed it down with another sip of wine.

  “What’s another possibility?”

  Christodoulou shrugged, enjoying his own plate of food for a moment.

  “There are several possibilities—no sense in discussing them all,” he told her teasingly. “But it’s definitely within the realm of possibility that I could help make it go away.”

  “I’m assuming that you’ll want something in return?”

  Christodoulou grinned. “I may give generously to charity, but I don’t usually consider con artists in that domain,” he said. “I might be willing to help you—but it depends on a few things falling into place.”

  “What kind of things?”

  Christodoulou shook his head. “Not a discussion I feel like having right now,” he explained. “Right now I’d rather enjoy this meal. Wouldn’t you?”

  Eva chuckled. “That is an excellent point,” she agreed.

  As she ate, Eva had to admit to herself that Christodoulou was even more attractive than she had originally thought; there was something about his sun-bronzed skin, his dark eyes, his ready smile, that made her tingle all over in a way that had nothing to do with any desire to scam him.

  Under the tailored, beautiful suit he wore, Eva was certain that he was lean and muscular—she wondered whether he was hairy, as so many Greeks seemed to be, or if he was as well-maintained as his hands, his hair, his clean-shaven face suggested. She felt a little burst of heat at the idea of what Ari might look like naked. Eva reminded herself that she was there to talk business—not to find a new boyfriend.

  Course after course came to the table, and Eva slowly let her guard down, delighting in taste and texture. Ari was—as she would have expected—genuinely interested in the food, the wine, and everything that went along with the meal.

  “How did you get to become a call center person? I’ve never known someone in that position.”

  “Sort of by default,” Eva admitted. “After an operation went south…” she shrugged, letting the nature of the operation go without saying, “I almost found myself on the wrong side of the law and decided to go straight. The job wasn’t that bad until it was.”

  “I can only imagine,” Ari said, grinning. “You must have some real stories.”

  With very little prompting, Eva found herself telling the Greek about the worst of the worst callers: the man who had wanted to dispute charges on his bill until she’d gotten him to admit that the charges—for an escort service—were accurate, the woman who had refused to believe that charges on her son’s account for pornography were correct, even though the investigation had determined that they were, and of course the final call she had taken on her last shift at the center.

  Ari paid for their meal without batting an eye, and Eva—her mind slightly fuzzy from the wine—wondered if he would tell her what he wanted from her in exchange for helping her out of her
conundrum. Instead, he rose from the table and gestured for Eva to accompany him.

  “The night is young,” he said, leading her away from the table. “Care for a drink? There’s a great bar about two blocks down from here.”

  “I could use one,” Eva grinned.

  They walked together to the bar, and the host at the front of the tiny, secluded enclave nearly jumped when he spotted Ari approaching. In a matter of only a few moments they were seated at a table in a private lounge, with a dedicated server to bring them drinks. Eva ordered a Tom Collins, and Ari opted for a martini.

  “I should have pegged you for a con artist,” Ari said, shaking his head. “You’re too charming by half.”

  “Charming?” Eva smirked. “You didn’t seem to think I was all that charming in the bedroom of that apartment.”

  Ari shrugged. “You were too—what’s the word? Uppity? Overplayed your hand, at least as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Well, I’ve seen plenty of ‘uppity’ rich people in my time,” Eva countered.

  “I’m sure you have,” Ari agreed. “But there’s a certain kind of overconfidence that comes with wealth; not the kind you showed up there.”

  “You shook me up a bit,” Eva admitted. As she finished her first drink and considered another, she felt the fuzziness in her head intensifying. He’s hot, and he’s rich, and he might—might—be willing to help you. If it weren’t for the fact that he wouldn’t want to have anything to do with you, he’d be worth luring in.

  “You? Shaken up?” Ari chuckled. “I can’t fathom it.”

  “You saw right through me! That never happens.” Eva leaned in closer, and smelled the cologne that Ari used: something with hints of greenery, a warmth underneath it.

  “I think we probably saw through each other,” Ari said, raising an eyebrow.

  They ordered another round and Eva found herself relaxing more and more. They discussed the “work” that Eva had done in the past, but she kept the details limited, sticking with the affair and blackmail scam she had run before meeting Jared, and a few other small-time grifts she had taken part in.

  A song came on and Eva found herself tapping her toe to the beat as Ari told her about a bar he’d found in Paris, late one night—an after-hours place that only a handful of people knew about.

  “Do you dance?” she asked.

  “A little,” Ari replied. “Are you asking because you’d like a partner?”

  Eva shrugged. “What else is there to do at a bar? Other than talk.”

  Ari rose to his feet and Eva followed his example; when his hands caressed her waist, she felt a little electric tingle through her body. They began to move together, swaying to the beat, and Eva noticed that there didn’t seem to be any of the awkwardness that a new partner usually brought with him; she had his rhythm right away, and he seemed to have found hers just as easily.

  “It’s not hard to believe that you could lure a man into an affair,” Ari said, once they sat down once more.

  “Why is that? My great charm?”

  “Charm, good looks…intelligence. Even if I was married I would want to take a chance with you.”

  “You’re not married, then?”

  Ari shook his head, and Eva reminded herself that she’d known that—at least, as far as the tabloids could be trusted.

  “Not married,” he said, an unreadable expression flitting across his features. “And obviously you aren’t either.”

  “Obviously?” Eva smiled slightly.

  “Well—you were blackmailing adulterers,” Ari pointed out. “I’d assume you couldn’t be married to do that. Also no wedding ring or even an engagement ring.”

  “So we’re both free,” Eva said. She had to admit that during the course of their conversation, the Greek had become more and more attractive; above and beyond the fact that he was potentially willing to help keep her out of trouble, and the natural good looks that genetics had bestowed on him.

  “That we are,” Ari agreed. He held her gaze for a long time. “You do know that you’re incredibly beautiful, don’t you?”

  “I’ve been told I’m pretty,” Eva said, smiling wryly.

  “Not pretty,” Ari told her, reaching out to take her hand in his. “Beautiful. Incredibly beautiful.”

  “Oh come on,” Eva said, shaking her head. “You can’t kid a kidder.”

  “Not trying to kid you,” Ari said. He gave her hand a squeeze. “But you have to admit it’s a pretty opportune moment, isn’t it?”

  Eva considered; she wasn’t drunk, but she was tipsy enough to know she should be very careful about going along with any kind of suggestive plan. What could it hurt? He’s hot, and it’d be a great story to tell someone later.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  Ari glanced around their little enclave. “Let’s go somewhere more private,” he suggested. “This place is too loud.”

  Eva thought again; did she really want to go home with him? Hell yes you do! Another part of her mind suggested that it would be wiser to go home, but she couldn’t make herself listen; Ari was gorgeous, and he’d danced with her so well, she knew there would be nothing but chemistry between them if they fell into bed together.

  “Let’s go,” she said. “Lead the way.”

  Chapter Six

  “I should have guessed you’d live in a place like this,” Eva said, kicking her shoes off as she stepped into the entryway of Ari’s immense hotel suite. She turned to look at him and grinned. “And by that, I mean that it would be a hotel.”

  “For most of my adult life, it has only made sense to live in hotels,” Ari said with a shrug. He closed the distance between them and his hands fell to her waist. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do; you know that, right?”

  “Did I seem like I didn’t want to be here?” Eva looked around the hotel suite, briefly taking in the beautiful, luxurious details; she thought idly to herself that it was easily as nice—though not as big—as the penthouse apartment she’d outbid him on.

  “I just want to make sure,” Ari murmured. Eva turned to meet his gaze and felt the heat rising up in her body. “I have never just…used a woman, and I don’t intend to start now.”

  “How principled of you,” Eva said, licking her lips.

  Ari snickered, leaning in closer to her, until only inches remained between their bodies. “It’s mostly ego,” he admitted.

  He brushed his lips against her cheek and Eva turned her head on instinct. It was apparently exactly what he wanted her to do; Ari’s lips connected with hers, and Eva made a sound—not quite a moan, not quite a protest—at the jolt that coursed through her at the contact, caressing her nerves and heightening the tension that had been building up inside of her ever since she had met him the night before. She brought her hands up and draped them around Ari’s shoulders, holding back as she marveled at the sensations coursing through her; it had been years since she’d felt so turned on so quickly.

  They were moving. Eva realized it only after several moments, as Ari deepened the kiss, his hot tongue sliding against her lips until she opened her mouth to let him in. His hands began to roam over her body, barely hesitating as he came to her breasts, and then dropped down to her hips, around to her back.

  Eva’s hands came to life on his body, caressing and exploring the planes of his back through the fabric of his clothes, feeling the heat of him, the flex of muscles across his shoulders. Within moments, the only thing Eva could think about, more important even than securing Ari’s help, was the need to see him naked, to find out what he looked like underneath the suit.

  Ari stopped walking at some point, and they stood in one place together, kissing and caressing one another. Eva felt herself becoming more and more turned on; the hot wetness spreading against the fabric of her panties, the tingle in her breasts, in her hips, the tension mounting somewhere below the pit of her stomach. She wanted the moment to last forever, and yet, at the same time, she didn’t think she coul
d take much more. She felt her body heating up moment by moment, until she was trembling. Any thought about her predicament, about what Ari had suggested—though not said outright—was a million miles away.

  Eva moaned out as Ari began to kiss and nibble along the column of her throat. He cupped her breasts through the fabric of her clothes, and Eva arched into his touch, twisting and writhing, her hands tightening on his back. She swayed and shook as Ari continued to tease her. The fact that they were both almost fully clothed was amazing to Eva; she could feel her whole body burning with need. It had been so long since she’d been with anyone—since before she’d gone straight—and she was suddenly intensely aware of that fact.

  Eva peeled Ari’s blazer off, somehow managing to pull the fabric over his arms even as their bodies tangled up together. The blazer fell to the floor, and Eva pressed her body against Ari’s, feeling the heat of him through her dress, hungry for more. She was already soaking wet, and she wanted, needed to move things forward.

  Ari found the zipper at the top of her back, and began to tug it down slowly, even as he continued to lavish attention on her neck, her collarbones, her lips.

  All at once, Eva found herself in nothing but her bra and panties. Ari stepped back to admire his handiwork. “You really are exceptional,” he murmured, his gaze trailing down from her face to her breasts, down to her hips. He reached out and took her hand in his. “Come with me.”

  Eva was more than happy to follow him as he led her towards a door at the opposite end of the living area. Ari pulled her into the bedroom, propelling her towards the bed as he turned the light on and began unbuttoning his dress shirt.

  She staggered and barely caught herself as she fell onto the bed, watching as Ari slipped his shirt off and tossed it aside, revealing a broad, muscled chest with the same olive-toned skin she’d admired on his face and hands. A line of dark hair darted from his navel down to the waistband of his pants, but his chest was bare. She only had a moment to enjoy the view before the Greek climbed into bed, covering her body with his own.