Valentine’s Billionaire Auction

Chapter 25

25

KAIRA

I could see the sun was out, nice and bright. The start of a beautiful day. I should be up, enjoying the nice day with a walk or coffee on the patio. But I couldn’t bring myself to leave my little cocoon.

I stayed curled up in my bed, staring at the ceiling. My mind was replaying the events of the previous night on an endless loop, tormenting me with every moment of weakness.

What had I been thinking? One night of Roman being considerate and suddenly I was throwing myself at him like some starry-eyed fool. I should’ve known better. I acted on the crush like the band geek in high school that finally got a little attention from the star quarterback.

Now, I was wrapped in silent regret.

We had shared something amazing. At least, I thought it was amazing. The man had rocked my world. My body was his to control. I wondered if he felt the same, if last night meant as much to him as it did to me. Or was I just another name on his list?

I knew the answer and it was killing me. I knew what he thought. It was evident in his reaction after the deed had been done.

He had gotten up and left afterward like it meant nothing. No hesitation, no lingering glances, no soft words. Just gone, as if nothing had happened. It made me feel cheap. Nothing more than a pincushion.

I tried to shake these thoughts from my mind but they clung to me. My fingers nervously tugged at the edge of the blanket, twisting the fabric as I let out a deep sigh. How could I have been so naive? How could I not see the signs that were probably as clear as day to everyone else?

I buried my face in the pillow and groaned. It was ridiculous. Roman had shown me exactly who he was time and time again. One night of kindness didn’t erase the rest of it. I’d been stupid to think otherwise, even for a second. How was I going to last all six months when I couldn’t make it through the first week without jumping his bones?

I knew I should get up, wash off the remnants of last night, and face the day with whatever strength I could muster. But every motion felt monumental, weighed down by a mix of longing and dread. I couldn’t stop thinking of his hands, strong yet gentle. I didn’t want to want him. I wanted to be like him and just pretend it was no big deal.

Eventually, I summoned the will to rise. My legs swung over the side of the bed, where I sat and stared out the window for a few seconds. I needed to decide what I was going to do. Did I stay? I was committed to a contract, so running out with my head hung in shame didn’t really feel like an option.

Was I supposed to just ignore him? Roman was way too big to ignore, literally and metaphorically. Did they still sell chastity belts? If so, I needed to buy one and throw away the key.

I stood up, stretching the stiffness out of my muscles, and walked to the bathroom. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, searching for some sign of the strength I used to think I had. Instead, all I saw were the remnants of yesterday’s makeup.

I turned on the shower, cranking it up nice and hot. I wanted to melt away any reminders of him. I needed to rid myself of his smell. His touch. All of it.

As the shower heated up, the steam clouded over my reflection, mercifully obscuring the disappointment on my face. I stepped under the hot spray, letting it wash over me as if it could cleanse away not just the physical but also the emotional residue from last night. The water slid down my body. I closed my eyes, allowing the warmth to wash over me, hoping that when I opened them again I would feel like a new, confident woman.

Unfortunately, the shower wasn’t quite the renewal I had hoped for. I still felt a level of self-loathing that was new to me. I had plenty of things to hate about myself, but this was different. Last night, he had made me feel so beautiful. So wanted.

And I dropped my pants and opened my legs for him.

The self-recrimination was brutal, and yet, there was a part of me that was still clinging to the attraction that had driven me to him. I was going to drive myself crazy. The only way to get out of anything was to go straight through it. That’s what I was going to do.

“It’s going to be rocky, but I can still make this work.”

I wrapped a towel tightly around myself, and stepped out, determined to get dressed and face the day like nothing happened. If Roman could brush it off, so could I. He was probably already gone anyway. The mirror was still fogged over, and in a way, I was grateful for that. I wasn’t ready to face myself just yet.

I padded back into the bedroom, avoiding the bed where it had all happened. Instead, I walked into my closet to find something to wear. I looked at the fancy clothes the staff had hung up for me. I didn’t want to wear any of that. I wanted my comfortable clothes. It took a second to find my old, worn things, but I did. I dressed in jeans, a hoodie, and my old-school knock-off Uggs. It was the perfect outfit for lounging around the house.

“Please don’t be home,” I murmured before I opened my bedroom door.

I hated that I felt like I had to hide.

The sound of a loud commotion downstairs startled me out of my self-loathing spiral. A woman’s voice rang out—laughing, crying, yelling? I couldn’t tell if she was furious or ecstatic, but she was definitely loud.

“What the hell?”

Was he bringing a woman home? Oh hell no. I would drive one of his precious cars into the pool if he thought he could disrespect me like that.

I was about to rush out when I remembered my comfy clothes and makeup-free face. I did not want to meet one of his other women like this. Maybe it was silly to care about something like that but I did. So I paused in my open door, listening.

The woman was loud. I couldn’t make out what she was saying but clearly she was either really pissed or really excited. What if Roman was married? Oh shit. What if the woman of the house came home and learned I was here?

No, Kaira. Pump the brakes.

My writer brain was sweeping me away in its madness. The dark side of having a vivid imagination was jumping to the worst-case scenario when anything happened in my life.

Got a flat tire? It wasn’t a random nail. Someone let the air out so they could abduct me from the side of the road.

Lose a sock? Stolen by my long lost twin who wants to steal my identity.

Find a quarter? It’s probably rare and valuable and I’ll get stuck in the crossfire between two ruthless coin collectors.

Then again, a simple sneeze had purchased a night with Roman, gotten me fired, and resulted in me living in his house, freshly fucked within an inch of my life. So sometimes little things ended up being a big deal.

But a simple female laugh didn’t mean he was married or had a girlfriend. He wouldn’t need me to fake it if that was the case. A prostitute then.

Kaira, stop.

Whatever was happening, standing up here and hiding in my room was not going to answer my questions. Curiosity won out over my desire to stay holed up and I walked to the top of the staircase, peering down into the foyer expecting to see some supermodel or some other stunning woman.

That’s not what I saw.

I saw an older woman dressed in vibrant, mismatched colors rushing into Roman’s arms. Her silver hair was piled into a messy bun. Her wrists jingled with dozens of bracelets that clinked as she moved.

She kissed Roman on both cheeks, leaving purple lipstick marks that he rubbed at with an exasperated expression. She handed off several large bags to the house staff, who looked delighted to see her. One of them even hugged her. She returned it enthusiastically.

“Home at last!” the woman declared with a flourish.

Home?

Who was this person?

As if sensing me watching them like a gargoyle, the woman’s gaze snapped upward and landed on me. Her eyes lit up, her mouth broke into a huge smile, and she threw her arms wide.

“Ah!” she exclaimed, bracelets jangling. “You must be Kaira! I’ve been dying to meet you. Come on down, dear. Let’s have a cup of tea and get to know each other.”

I glanced at Roman, who was pinching the bridge of his nose as if he already had a headache. He caught my eye and shrugged, silently telling me to just go with it.

Reluctantly, I descended the stairs.

The moment I reached the bottom, the woman enveloped me in a cloud of floral perfume and warm hugs. I nearly suffocated. The perfume was something expensive and incredibly strong. But the hug was nice.

“You’re even prettier than Roman described!” she said, holding me at arm’s length to appraise me. “He’s such a terrible storyteller, but when he mentioned your eyes, he got it exactly right.”

I blinked, my face heating. Roman had described me? Was he selling me to her?

“This is my Aunt Ruby,” Roman said. “My mom’s sister. She spends most of her time traveling abroad, but she’s staying here for a few weeks.”

Ruby beamed. “Until Valentine’s Day,” she clarified with a wink. “But I’ll be out of your hair before the romantic day. Wouldn’t want to ruin the love boat you two are sailing on.”

My stomach dropped. So, she thought our engagement was real. Of course, she did—why wouldn’t she?

Ruby looped her arm through mine and led me toward the sitting room. “Come, dear. I want to hear all about how my stubborn, impossible nephew finally found someone to put up with him.”

I glanced over my shoulder at Roman, who gave me a tight-lipped smile that clearly said, Good luck .

I gave him a look that begged for help, but he had already turned away. He was feeding me to the wolves.

“Roman, join us!” Ruby called out.

I almost laughed. He thought he was going to escape. Well, not so fast.

The house staff rushed to set up a tea tray in the sitting room, complete with an assortment of pastries and finger sandwiches. I had a feeling they might have known this visit was coming. Or maybe they were just amazing at their jobs.

Ruby settled in like she owned the place—which, given her familial connection, she sort of did. “Sit, sit,” she gestured.

I did as she asked, watching as she poured us each a cup of tea. She held her dainty cup with the perfect pinky pose and stared at me over the rim. Roman took his seat and propped his foot up on his knee, the picture of calm.

“So,” Ruby began, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “How did you two meet?”

I opened my mouth, scrambling for an answer, but Roman spoke first.

“It’s not a particularly interesting story,” he said smoothly. “Business acquaintances, mutual friends, that sort of thing.”

Ruby wrinkled her nose. “Nonsense. Every love story is interesting. Kaira, you tell me. What was your first impression of Roman?”

I hesitated, my mind racing. If I told her the truth—that I had thought he was arrogant and insufferable—it might raise some red flags.

“He’s…” I began searching for a diplomatic answer. “He’s certainly confident.”

Ruby let out a peal of laughter. “That’s a polite way of saying he’s a pain in the ass, isn’t it?”

Roman cleared his throat, clearly unimpressed with the turn the conversation had taken. “Nothing wrong with a man who knows what he wants.”

Ruby leaned forward, her expression softening. “I’m glad he has you,” she said, her voice filled with genuine emotion. “I’ve always worried about how alone he is in this big house. He’s worked so hard, but it’s not the same as having someone to share it with.”

I glanced at Roman, who was staring into his tea.

“Roman told me you two were close,” I lied.

“Oh my, yes. After my poor sister passed away, I took him under my wing. I raised him like he was my own. I love him like a son, always have. I worry so much about him. I’m so glad I don’t have to worry about him being alone.”

That made me love her almost immediately. I loved that he had family. I was beginning to think he had no one.

“I’m fine, Aunt Ruby,” Roman said.

“You did a good job raising him,” I said. “He’s a good man.”

There was an uncomfortable, awkward silence. I sipped my tea and looked anywhere but at him.

“Okay,” Ruby said suddenly, sitting back with a sharp look. “Spit it out. What’s going on?”

I froze, my teacup halfway to my lips.

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice higher than usual.

Ruby pointed between Roman and me. “You two are as stiff as boards. Did you have a fight? Are you pregnant? What is it?”

Roman sighed, setting his cup down with a clink. “It’s nothing, Aunt Ruby. You’re overthinking things.”