The Billionaire's Betrayal (Highest Bidder #3) - Carmen Falcone Page 0,10
sarcasm lacing her voice. “True original.”
He touched his heart, making a sad face, like her words had wounded him beyond repair. “That’s why we need to talk more about personal things, Madam. Because you’re so good at putting me in my place.”
She swallowed. As long as I remember your place is far away from me.
Chapter Three
“And that’s what I do around here,” Logan said, sliding his hand down his horse’s lustrous mane.
Brooks straightened his shoulders. For the past half hour, he’d let Alexa speak with the blond young man and act like she was Brooks’s friend from out of town visiting his ranch. He didn’t interfere much, watching how she talked to Logan with ease, asking him about the ranch and throwing in a couple of personal questions for good measure.
“So fascinating,” Alexa said, smiling yet again at Logan.
Annoyance coated his throat, and he cleared it. Twice. Did she need to sound so convincing?
He drummed his fingers on his leather belt, impatiently. Though watching her wasn’t necessarily a sacrifice. Sharing Alexa, though, was a different story. He had to give her something—even though a part of him doubted a young buck like Logan would actually go through with the auction idea, he had to show her he was serious in order to keep her close.
A damn hard task.
“If you want, I reckon I can take you horseback riding tomorrow,” Logan said, running his fingers through his hair. “Show you around.”
“What a great idea,” Alexa said.
Brooks popped his knuckles to keep from clocking an eighteen-year-old into next week. “We’ll all go.” A wave of heat moved through him, making it impossible to stand still.
Logan looked at him and nodded quickly. “Yes, sir. If you excuse me, I’ll go feed the horses,” he said, disappearing into the barn.
Alexa stepped closer, hands perched at her waist. “What are you doing?”
“We’re partners. If you want to veto, that’s fine. But if you take off with my potential virgin and who knows, maybe pop his cherry yourself, then I have nothing,” he said, the mere idea of her getting naked with Logan or anyone else heating his blood. He’d heard through the grapevine Logan had never dated, which made him a good candidate. The image of Logan with Alexa, though, clawed its way through his brain, twisting inside his head.
“I’d never do such a thing. You obviously don’t know my work ethics.”
“I wouldn’t, because you don’t say jack shit about them,” he said, frustrated. How was he supposed to get to know her better if she kept her walls up all the time?
“Well, ask.” She lifted her hand. “Work stuff only.”
This is my chance. He stared at her square in the eye, eager to capture the real emotion behind those intriguing blue eyes. “Have any of your auction deals ever ended badly?”
“Mostly, no. My girls go through a very selective process to be approved. I want to make sure they know what they’re signing up for, and if they really want it.”
“Has anyone ever changed their mind at the last minute?” Could that have been Pamela’s case? She’d tried to back off and it’d been too late? Fear thickened his throat, forming a pulsing knot. He’d played so many possibilities in his head, and now, he didn’t know what he feared most—discovering the truth about Pamela or the truth about Alexa. Not the bullshit she fed him, but the harsh, cold truth.
“Yes, a few times. Fortunately, I always have an alternate ready to go.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping to slap a neutral expression on his face. “Have you ever been threatened or had to use force to keep someone in line?” he asked casually, hiding the eagerness behind every word.
Her body went rigid, and she turned it at an angle as if she wanted to block him from view. “What? I’d never use force to keep anyone in line. Mr. Taylor, I offer a service. Strippers sell their body, so do sex workers. And neither of them make close to the kind of money that a virgin will under my expertise.”
“What about competitors? Anyone I should know about? Since we’re launching a new edition of your auction, do you foresee some angry opponent breathing down our necks?” he said, choosing to add his link to their venture to smooth out his questions.
She touched her neck, and he didn’t miss the small scar disappearing into her shirt. What did it mean? It looked like it’d been there for a while.