Page 7 of Bought

He’d been in that armchair, almost directly in front of the dais, sitting back, ostensibly relaxed, his long legs outstretched in front of him. But there had been nothing relaxed about the coiling tension in every line of his powerful body. The impact of his gaze had been almost physical, I could feel it shuddering through me like an ax hitting a tree.

He was a threat, some instinctive part of me knew it, and so I’d stared back in challenge because I didn’t let men cow me.

Then, naturally, I’d remembered that I was supposed to be acting shy and innocent, so I’d had to look away again, cursing myself for forgetting.

Not that it mattered. Fox wouldn’t take my virginity. He didn’t want it. He hadn’t wanted any of the other virgins he'd bought either. I didn’t know why, but that wasn’t important. What was important was that he’d probably let me go and in which case I had to convince him otherwise.

Andre escorted me out of the room via a back entrance, which was a pity because I’d wanted to know if Isabel was still out in the bar and had managed to avoid being seen. I’d have to text her later.

Will you though? Once you complete your mission, she won’t matter anymore either.

The thought made me uncomfortable. Befriending Isabel had been something I’d had to do. She’d been part of my mission, but…well, I’d liked her. I’d liked her a lot. She’d become a friend and I’d never had a friend before, not even when I was a kid. Back then I’d had to keep to myself because it simply wasn’t safe inviting anyone back to my place given how unpredictable Dad’s rages were. And as an adult, I couldn’t have any because of the sketchy jobs I took from Donny. He was so nosy about my private life that I didn’t want to put any friend I might have had on his radar.

Donny had been a necessary evil, giving me access to some lucrative under-the-table jobs and I got paid in cash. I guess I could have gotten safer jobs — stacking supermarket shelves, waitressing, cleaning offices — but the money with Donny was too good to refuse, and when you were a teenage runaway with no education, your options were limited.

If I wanted to get to Santorini, he was the evil I had to put up with.

Anyway, I hadn’t liked lying to Isabel and I didn’t like the thought of simply vanishing without a word either. No, I’d text her afterward and I’d tell her everything. She’d probably end up hating me, but that was fine. I’d be gone by then and anyway, she deserved the truth.

Regret tugged at me, but I ignored it as we went up some back stairs to the next floor up and down a long corridor. The deep blue carpet was a rich contrast against the red walls, and paintings lined the hallway. It felt as if I was walking through an art gallery.

Eventually, Andre stopped outside a door and opened it, gesturing at me to go in. “You have ten minutes,” he murmured. “If you both agree Mr. Fox is the winner of your auction then all the paperwork will be signed, and you’ll have your money. If you don’t agree, then the auction is void.”

This had already been explained to me. After each auction, the buyer and seller would meet, and both had the option of canceling the sale. It was a great idea and all, but if I refused him, I wouldn’t get paid, so it wasn’t as if I was going to say no, not tonight. He could also potentially refuse me, which meant I had to be nice.

I took a quick, silent breath, my heart beating fast for no good reason then nodded to Andre.

No, there was a good reason. I had to convince Tennyson Fox to take me home and hopefully, that would be easy. He was a white knight, which meant all I had to do was act all fragile and vulnerable, maybe tell him that someone was after me and I didn’t have anywhere to go that was safe — I mean, it was the truth after all — and if I acted scared and pathetic enough, he’d surely help me out. He rescued virgins after all, and presumably, he didn’t rescue them only to then throw them to the wolves.

I stepped into the room and Andre shut the door behind me.

It was small and beautifully appointed, with thick dark, charcoal carpet and dark blue walls. Vivid splashes of color came in the form of red Persian rugs and a couple of red velvet-covered armchairs set before an empty fireplace. A small table stood near a curtained window. On the table were two glasses of champagne.

I barely registered the champagne, though, unable to do anything but stare at the very tall man standing in front of the fireplace. He was staring down into the empty grate with his hands clasped loosely behind his back, the posture highlighting the broad width of his shoulders and chest.

Tennyson Fox.

The same current of awareness that I’d felt downstairs prickled through me once again, making me want to shift uncomfortably on my feet.

Annoying. He might have bought my virginity, but he wasn’t going to do anything with it, and I knew that already. There was no reason to be uncomfortable.

He glanced over his shoulder as the door shut behind me, his gaze a cold spear of sapphire pinning me to the floor where I stood. “Please,” he said in a deep voice that scraped over something inside me, making me shiver. “Sit.”

It didn’t sound like a request, despite the please, and me being me, I instantly bridled at his tone.

After being ordered around by Donny and having to suck it up for the money, I didn’t appreciate being told what to do by a man, especially a man who made me feel so.…uncomfortable. Then again, I was supposed to be playing the part of the shy virgin and calling him out for being an arrogant ass wasn’t in character.

So, I did what I was told like a good girl, going over to one of the armchairs and sitting down, folding my cloak tightly around me and clasping my hands demurely in my lap.

He continued to stand facing the fire with his hands behind his back, looking like a stern headmaster about to discipline a naughty student.

That awareness prickled again as if some part of me found that idea sexy, which was just flat-out weird. I’d had stupid Donny being a rapey creep, and before that the men on the streets where I’d had to live for a time, who’d also been rapey creeps. Then before them had been Dad. He hadn’t been rapey, just an abusive asshole, and after what I’d had to put up with from him, ‘discipline’ was the least sexy thing in the entire world.

I’d never be into being told what to do by some random guy, no matter how hot he was.

A silence fell over the room, the air feeling strangely weighted. Then Fox said, “You can relax. I won’t be taking what I paid for tonight.”

I thought I had been relaxed, so I was irritated that my muscles had in fact tensed and I was sitting there stiffly. “I’m fine,” I said. “But I don’t understand. What won’t you be taking?” I knew exactly what he wouldn’t be taking, but I wanted to hear him say it.