Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
“I’ll take that check now,” Winston says in a slithering voice.
He knows he has us.
The man who bid on me in Jack’s stead comes forward, removing a checkbook from the inner pocket of his overcoat.
“Make it out for eight million,” Jack instructs him in a voice that could cut diamonds. “I’ll give the girl her cut directly.”
“The rules—” Winston snarls.
“Fuck your rules,” Jack growls. “I want to make sure she gets the money.”
“You don’t trust me?”
Jack just laughs at that. “Where is the viewing area, as you so romantically named it?”
Winston gestures to the room. “We’re not done with the auction.”
My stomach turns at the word auction. Gina and Darlene still have their turn ahead. And I wish they wouldn’t put themselves through this. I wish there was an easier way for them to make money, but I also understand why they’ve made the choice.
I wish I’d been given the same one.
“Continue your auction,” Jack says. “I’m taking a few minutes alone with her. Before.”
Winston waves a hand toward the back of the house. “You’ll know it when you see it.”
That ominous statement makes me shiver.
Jack seems relieved to get me out of the room, away from the armed men, further confusing me about his character. Is he a good man underneath all that arrogance?
No. I have to refuse this notion that we’re on the same side. We’re not. He is paying to have sex with me. He is one of them.
Although…did he join this club just for me?
I don’t understand why he would do that. We’ve never met. So I sincerely doubt he’s aware that my mother is his housekeeper. Even if he knew about the relation, he certainly wouldn’t pay ten million dollars to rescue the daughter of the cleaner.
Especially one he underpays.
We round the corner into another oblong lounge, this one overlooking the backyard, complete with pool and tennis courts. At the end of the lounge, a red light glows from a high, arched doorway. Jack hesitates before guiding me toward it. The closer we come to the ominous red glow, the more my nerves start to jangle, my thin slip dress an insubstantial defense for whatever lies on the other side.
I realize I’ve skidded to a halt when Jack turns and looks down at me with a flash of concern. “It’s going to be all right, Maisy.”
An alarm bell peels in my head. “How d-do you know my name?”
He tilts his head slightly, a line forming between his brows. “One of your friends called out to you as we were leaving. Didn’t you hear her?”
“No.”
“Hmm.”
I have no choice but to believe him. How else would he know?
Slowly, Jack brings my wrist to his mouth and kisses my pulse, his lips hard, warm. His body is outlined by the red glow of the viewing room and confusion dances in my bloodstream, along with…reluctant heat. Who is kissing me? A savior? Or the devil himself?
“Don’t be scared of me, angel,” he whispers, kissing the soft inner skin of my forearm now. “Trust me to make this good for you.”
My mouth falls open. “Oh, there’s no way to make this good for me.”
A single brow ticks up. “Is that a challenge?”
Jack doesn’t give me a chance to answer.
He simply scoops me up in his arms and carries me through the glowing red doorway.
* * *
Through the doorway is a den of depravity. There is no other way to put it.
The décor is decadent, just like the rest of the house. Luxurious wall hangings, thick Aubusson rugs, a high ceiling. But the entire space glows with a dark, sultry red.
In the center of the room is a flat, undecorated bed, fitted with a white sheet. No pillows. No blankets. The red light is more concentrated on the center of the room, while the outskirts are more shadowed. Leather armchairs are positioned in a circle around the bed, no less than five feet from the mattress. So close. These men are going to be so close. Watching me. Hearing everything. Seeing everything. Seeing me.
Even Jack seems taken aback by the blatant debauchery of it all, but he carries me toward the bed and sits me on the edge of the mattress. He shrugs off his jacket and tosses it casually over one of the leather armchairs. I get the odd sense that he’s nervous, but that can’t be right. I’m just trying to make him my savior again, because I’m vulnerable here, in this place.
“Maisy.” In the process of unbuttoning his shirt, Jack comes to stand in front of me, close enough that I can feel his body heat on my knees. “I wouldn’t have chosen to…meet you like this—”
“Then why are you meeting me like this? Why did you bid?” I shake my head. “You weren’t even a member of the club before tonight.”