Page 69 of Bid For Me
“It’s stunning,” I whisper, stepping inside.
“Mr. Alexander spends a lot of time here,” Mrs. Murray says, lingering by the door. “But it’s open to you anytime, of course. If you need anything, just pull the cord near the desk.” She gestures to a velvet cord hanging by the doorway before turning to leave.
“Thank you, Mrs. Murray,” I call after her, my voice laced with gratitude.
Left alone, I wander through the library, running my fingers along the spines of the books. The collection is vast, a mix of classics, rare editions, and what appear to be first prints of literary masterpieces. I pull out a copy of ‘Pride and Prejudice’ and settle into one of the armchairs by the window.
As I read, my mind drifts to the stack of second-hand romance novels I left behind in my flat. The books that have been my escape, my comfort, their pages creased and stained from being read and reread. They’re nothing like the pristine volumes in this library, and I can’t help but mourn their absence.
Maybe Ishouldget a Kindle like Seb suggested, I think idly. It’s a fleeting thought, but the idea of being able to read whatever I want, hidden behind a screen, brings a faint smile to my lips.
The hours pass unnoticed as I lose myself in Austen’s prose, the world outside fading away. It’s only when a shadow falls across my page, that I realise I’m no longer alone.
I glance up to find Alexander standing in the doorway, his imposing figure framed by the afternoon light. His presence is like a cold wind, sharp and unsettling.
“Elle,” he says, stepping into the room. His tone is polite, but there’s an undercurrent of something sharper.
I close the book, placing it on the side table as I rise to my feet. “Mr. Sterling-Knight,” I say, keeping my voice steady.
“Alexander,” he corrects, his gaze unwavering as he approaches. “I thought we might have a chat.”
“Of course,” I reply, though my stomach tightens at his tone.
He motions for me to sit, and I comply, sinking back into the armchair. He takes the seat opposite me, his posture straight, his demeanor controlled.
“I’ll be frank,” he says, folding his hands in his lap. “I don’t believe this relationship between you and Sebastian is genuine.”
I blink, startled by his bluntness. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
His lips curl into a faint, humorless smile. “The sudden engagement. The secrecy. It doesn’t add up. So, I’ll ask again – what’s your game?”
“There’s no game,” I say firmly, my heart racing. “Seb and I care about each other. This isn’t some ploy.”
Alexander leans back slightly, his sharp eyes studying me. “If that’s true, then you won’t object to signing an iron-clad prenuptial agreement. No money, no assets, if this marriage falls apart. A clear line between what belongs to this family and what you might think you’re entitled to.”
The insinuation stings, but I keep my expression calm. “I’m not here for your money, Alexander. My family has plenty of that already and I make enough that I can live comfortably and contentedly. I’m here because I love your son.”
He raises a brow, his skepticism clear. “Love?”
“Yes,” I say, leaning forward. “I’ve known Seb since we were kids. He was my brother’s best friend and there’s always been a connection between us, but we needed time to grow into the people we are now. It wasn’t the right time before, but it is now.”
His gaze narrows. “And why the sudden engagement?”
I hesitate before answering, choosing my words carefully. “We wanted to be sure of each other before bringing it to our families. Relationships are complicated, and we didn’t want outside expectations to influence our decisions. When we knew it was real, we didn’t see a reason to wait.”
The silence that follows is heavy, each second stretching unbearably. Alexander’s expression is unreadable, his piercing gaze never leaving mine.
Finally, he nods slowly. “A compelling story,” he says, though his tone remains skeptical. “But I’ll be watching, Elle. If I sense even the slightest hint of deception, you’ll regret it.”
With that, he stands and leaves the room, his presence as commanding in his departure as it was during our conversation.
I sink back into the chair, my body trembling with the effort it took to maintain my composure. The exhaustion is overwhelming, but I refuse to let it consume me. Not here. Not now.
Needing solace, I retreat to the suite I now share with Seb. The oversized bathtub beckons, and I fill it with steaming water, adding a generous splash of jasmine oil, surprised that Seb has the bathroom already stocked with all of my favourite products. Or maybe Mrs. Murray did it. Either way, Seb still would have had to havetoldher what I like, and the idea is strangely touching.
As I sink into the bath, the warmth wraps around me like a cocoon. My mind races, replaying every moment of the conversation with Alexander, every word I carefully crafted to maintain the charade. The pressure is crushing, but for now, I let it fade into the background.
For now, I allow myself this small moment of peace.