She looks away, out the window at the city lights blurring past. “And that appealed to you? Someone who didn’t want to be auctioned off?”
“What appealed to me was that you needed rescuing,” I admit. “From Gerhardt. From Keller. From whoever else had their eyes on you tonight.”
“And you're what? My knight in shining armor?” A hint of bitterness edges her voice. “Do you have some kind of hero complex?”
“No. I’m just a man who knows what he wants when he sees it. And I don’t stand and watch while someone else takes what belongs to me.”
Her eyes return to mine, searching. For what, I’m not sure. Deception? Danger? Whatever she’s looking for, she seems to find something that satisfies her, because she nods slightly.
“Thank you,” she says quietly, “for outbidding them.”
I incline my head, acknowledging without accepting her gratitude. I didn’t do it for thanks, but I find it interesting that she has nothing to say about belonging to me.
We ride in silence for several minutes, the distance between us on the seat both negligible and vast. I’m not used to this. This restraint, this careful consideration, this need to please a woman. With Rayne, the wanting is different. Deeper. More complex than simple desire.
I want her, yes, but I want her willingly or not at all.
As we approach my estate, she stirs from her thoughts.
“Where are we going?” she asks, peering out at the gated mansion coming into view.
“My home.”
She swallows visibly. “And what happens there?”
“Whatever we decide happens,” I answer honestly. “The contract says forty-eight hours of companionship. Nothing more specific than that.”
“And what do you want from these forty-eight hours, Ronan?”
It’s the first time she says my name, and the shock to my system is immediate. I need her to say it again. “I want to know you and take what you’re willing to give.”
Surprise flickers across her face. “Most men who pay for company want the fantasy, not the reality.”
“I’m not most men. You should have figured that out by now.”
The car glides to a stop by the front door. Jackson opens my door, and I step out, then turn to offer Rayne my hand. After a moment's hesitation, she takes it, allowing me to help her from the car.
The same thing happens the moment we touch. My self-control cracks, a rush of deep longing rushing through the gap. I already knew it the second I laid eyes on her. My usual defenses are useless against this woman.
Her hand remains in mine as we walk to the house. Only when we get to the portico do I release her, stepping back to give her space.
Rayne stands straighter, chin lifted slightly. The frightened deer from the auction block is gone, replaced by a woman gathering her courage. I like this side of her because the last person she has to fear is me. She’ll learn that eventually.
She catches me watching her and meets my eyes. A blast of heat, violent and sudden, surges through me. A freeze-frame of her writhing, thrashing, and screaming my name slides into my brain.
Jesus Christ. Who is this version of me? I’ve never had a problem with restraint, but now I can feel it fraying thread by fucking thread.
The grand entryway doors open to the foyer. The lights come on automatically, revealing the sleek, minimalist space beyond. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcase the city spread out below us, a carpet of lights against the night sky.
I step aside, allowing her to enter first. She moves past me, her scent briefly enveloping me as she passes. I follow her into the living room, watching as she takes in her surroundings.
Rayne watches the place, and I watch her.
“It’s beautiful,” she says, moving toward the windows. “I’ve never seen a view like this before.”
“The view is better from the bedroom terrace,” I say, then immediately regret it when she tenses. “That wasn’t a proposition.”
She turns to face me, something like defiance in her eyes now. “Wasn’t it?”
