Chapter Twelve
Ravi
“I don’t understand why Daniel’s paying for me to stay here.”
I’m in a hotel room that probably costs more a night than what I paid for my car.
Channing, the guy who’s supposed to guard me until the auction, comes back from checking all the bedrooms and the bathroom. “Mr. Corvus wants to protect his investment.”
Practically the second my signature was on that contract, I was whisked into an SUV that still had its new-car smell and driven to the Premiere, the most expensive hotel in Belle Argo. I can see the ocean from the window of my suite.
My suite.
I’ve never stayed anywhere like this in my entire life.
It’s got two bedrooms, a spacious living area, and a wide balcony that stretches across the living area and both bedrooms. It’s filled with not only fancy-looking furniture, but also vases and little plates on the tables, and various other decorative things I’ve only ever seen in pictures of rich people’s homes.
There’s a little table on the balcony where you can eat. So adorable.
Adorable, but… “This has got to be expensive.”
“Mr. Corvus mentioned that you had been previously imprisoned in a small bedroom. He wants to be clear that these accommodations are for your protection and comfort and doesn’t wish for you to feel trapped. It’s extremely important that this auction not be done under duress.”
Am I less imprisoned when the setting is nicer and I have a seven-foot-tall guard? “What does it matter? I already signed the contract.”
“It’s messier.” Channing’s got one of those smiles that always seems a little bit predatory. Almost wolflike.
I’ve really gotta stop reading those smutty paranormal novels.
They’re really hot, though. Like…the one where bosshole billionaire shifter Maddox Remmington turned his subordinate into a wolf for reasons, and then they got trapped in an elevator together during the full moon and were forced to have violent knot sex?
Yes, please. If I could, I’d live in that fantasy forever. And I really do wish I could.
That’s not the point though…
“I could have crashed on someone’s couch for a few days,” I tell my new bodyguard. “This seems like way too much.”
There’s a large flat-screen on the wall in the center of the living area. Not to mention an honest-to-God dining room table. My parents and I only ever used the dining table on holidays. Liam doesn’t even have one. The dining room is where he keeps his gun safe.
“Well, I haven’t been small enough to sleep on someone’s couch since I was twelve, and Mr. Corvus wants me to keep an eye on you.
Besides, the more comfortable you are, the better the auction will go.
” He shows that predatory grin again. “Gotta make sure the merchandise stays in good condition, yeah?”
“Okay, but…” I take a breath, trying to hide the full body shiver I get when he refers to me as “merchandise.”
Channing is a big guy. Like, a biiiig guy.
Liam’s formidable at six feet tall, with the kind of muscles that come from more than using those machines in the gym.
I’ve never seen anyone who didn’t find him a little intimidating or at least see him as someone they needed to respect.
This bodyguard guy Daniel stuck me with?
He makes Liam honestly look closer to average in size.
It’s hard not to think, is he really here for my safety? Or because Daniel Corvus considers me a flight risk? Something tells me if I wanted to go for a walk on the beach alone, I’d find out real quick that I don’t have much more freedom here than at Liam’s.
“Here’s the thing, Channing. I really hate to be a pest, but whatever money I make from this auction, it needs to be enough to last me for a while.
Hopefully, enough to pay for three and a half more years of college plus expenses.
Whatever Daniel spends on this place, I assume it’s coming out of my cut.
This hotel room isn’t something I can afford. ”
There’s a knock on the door. Channing motions for me to stay put before checking the peephole and then opening it to reveal… “Mr. Monroe’s brother?”
“It’s Wes. Good evening.” My lit teacher’s brother—Wes—clears his throat and gives us both a polite nod.
“I’m the night manager here at the Belle Argo Premiere.
I wanted to introduce myself and check in with you personally to see if there’s anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable.
I do apologize that I wasn’t available to escort you to your room, but please be assured I am available any time of the day or night if there’s anything you need.
Dinner reservations, a private beach cabana—just let me know. ”
Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.
Holy. Shit.
Mr. Monroe’s brother gets a whole lot friendlier when you’re renting a suite in the hotel he works for, I guess. When he’s at the gym he’s usually sneering at me. At all the other escorts. How the hell much does this room cost?
Apparently, enough to keep him from looking down his nose at me for a change.
I’ve got to tell the guys about this. My hand goes to my pocket, and then I remember I don’t have my phone.
Dammit, Liam.
“I think we’re all good here.” Channing’s already in the middle of closing the door.
“Oh. Uh. Hang on, please. Sorry.” I peer around Channing’s blocky body. “Could, uh… If it’s not too much trouble, is there a way to find out if you guys have any plant-based options available in the restaurant downstairs?”
I try not to tense up as I wait for his answer, but I’ve learned some people really get put out if you ask for any kind of special diet accommodations. Me, I really hate putting people out. I just hate eating animals more.
Amazingly, the usually scowly Mr. Monroe’s brother doesn’t bat an eye. “Of course, sir. I’ll have the chef send up a list of options for you. Is there anything else I can help you with at this time?”
While Channing is growling “no” and pushing the door closed again, I manage a hasty thank-you.
“I thought that guy hated me,” I say to nobody in particular.
Channing laughs. “When you’re a VIP guest, nobody hates you. Also, everyone hates you. Either way, Mr. Corvus made the reservation, and he spends a lot of money in this town. That guy’s smart enough to know whose ass to apply his tongue to.”
Channing positions himself in front of the dining table across from me, lazily crossing his arms over his chest and one ankle over the other. He gives me the same sort of silent assessment Daniel did—is this some kind of kink thing?—and then he inhales, almost as if he’s sniffing the air.
“You’re nervous.”
Wait, what? Is smelling anxiety a thing?
Not that he’s wrong. “Of course I’m nervous,” I say with a shrug. “Wouldn’t you be nervous about auctioning your virginity to a stranger?”
Channing shrugs his wide shoulders. “I lost my virginity in a drug-fueled rut under the full moon.” The guy looks like he’s on the verge of laughter.
Well. He may be making fun of me, but based on his answer, I know what kind of books he reads now, so the joke’s on him.
I see you, bosshole billionaire.
Honestly, that book was the source of most of my jerk-off fantasies until I realized I had a thing for Liam. If the bosshole started to look a lot like Liam when I imagined him fucking me under the full moon, that’s not my fault.
I give Channing a shrug of my own. “Being nervous doesn’t mean I’m going to bail, so you can tell Mr. Corvus not to worry. The important thing for me is having enough money to pay for my education and get out of town. This was my idea. I’m not going to back out.”
It’s really hard not to think of Liam right then. Has he given up on stopping me? Is it super bad that I don’t know whether I want him to find me or not?
The biggest heartbreak is knowing he’ll never do the one thing that would keep me here.
The more I try not to think of him, the more his stern glare fills my head. His eyes are the same color as the ocean outside my balcony.
Channing shakes his head. “You don’t want to leave town, do you?”
I narrow my eyes. “I don’t want to. I have to. Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Fair enough. What’s your number?” he asks.
“Like my phone number?”
“The number you need so you can leave town. Your expenses, your education. There’s no way you haven’t tallied all that up.”
Of course I have. I’ve got my ideal scenario, a more moderate scenario, and a worst-case scenario. What I don’t have is any idea how feasible meeting any of them is.
It’s an awful lot of money I’m looking for. What if nobody thinks I’m worth it?
I take a breath. “I’m not sure it’s realistic, but fifty or a hundred thousand would allow me to move someplace with a lower cost of living, give me time to find a job, and work until either I’ve got some money saved or I can get access to my trust fund when I turn twenty-five.
Maybe even put a down payment on a small house.
” Growing up, we moved a few times. Then I moved again, to live with Liam.
It’s kind of a dream, finding a place to stay put.
“Brennan thinks I can get a million,” I add, as nerves twang in my body like guitar strings. Even saying it sounds outrageous. “That would be even better. He could be wrong, though. I don’t think it’s safe to assume either way.”
When Channing lets out a shocked laugh, I’ll admit it stings.
“A million? You’re hoping for a million.”
Well, that’s hurtful. It’s one thing for me to worry I’m not going to get what I want. It’s another to be laughed at for saying my wants out loud.
“There’s no need to be rude.” I may know I’m not worth that much, but what’s so wrong with hoping?
Channing takes a step, looking down his perfectly shaped nose at me. I refuse to back up though. I don’t need him thinking I’m scared.
I’m not. I’m not scared.
“Hey, chill. You’re a good-looking guy. Not my type, okay? I want to know when I go all out fucking someone I won’t accidentally launch them across the room.”
The last thing I expected was to laugh today. “I guess that’s fair. So?”
“So, I may not be into you, but my vision works fine. That nice tight body of yours? Gorgeous brown skin, a killer smile. Chin dimple and all. Don’t get me started on the nerdy glasses.
Eyes like a baby lemur. Hell, I could give you a long list of people who’d be willing to pay to have those eyelashes.
If you think the rich pervs won’t open their bank accounts nice and wide to be the first to plant their flag in you, you’re on something. ”
Um.
I fight not to squirm. Am I supposed to be offended or flattered right now?
He reaches out with one big paw and pokes me in the shoulder. “You? Need to be thinking a lot bigger.”
“You think I can get more than fifty grand?” That guy from the party pops into my head.
In all the, uh, shenanigans that happened after, I’d nearly forgotten.
“Some guy at this party… I don’t think he was even serious, but he offered me two million to skip the auction.
I said no. Even if it was legit, Brennan would rage.
The guy seemed kind of slimy, so I doubt it was a real offer. But… you think I could get that much?”
Channing’s quiet for long enough that I have to fight not to squirm.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
His expression turns serious. “That’s the exact sort of reason why Mr. Corvus wants you guarded.
” The way he leans in close to my ear, it’s only the fact that he already said he’s not interested that makes me think it’s not some weird kind of flirting.
“You poor, naive little puppy. When I say you need to think bigger, I mean a hell of a lot bigger. Because that guy? He was trying to get you at a bargain.”