Page 37 of Temporary Vows

I keep moving, my blood turning hot.

Elodie’s eyes flick across the faces of the men below her. Her gaze skims the room and then fixes on nothing at all, as if she’s stepped outside her own body to endure it.

Another paddle snaps up. “Thirty-five thousand.”

The number hangs in the air, and a few men turn, considering whether she’s worth more.

I head straight into the aisleway, into the heart of it all. People glance at me as I pass, some recognizing me, some only sensing the shift. Money always recognizes money.

The host smiles. “Thirty-five thousand. Going once?—”

“Forty thousand,” I call, my voice cutting clean through the noise.

Every head turns my way.

On the stage, Elodie’s breath catches. Her eyes snap to me like she’s been yanked by a wire, and for a second, she looks like she’s seeing a ghost.

I stop and glare at her, wanting to shout at her.

Fuck. Few things stir me, pull emotion out of me.

This… I can’t even describe what the hell I’m feeling.

I’m mad as fuck. Mad she didn’t come to me. Mad every man’s eyes are glued to her. Mad she’s broken the ironclad control I usually have over my dick.

Another paddle shoots up, breaking the moment. “Forty-five.”

Damn Salvatore. He needs to stop the bidding with me, but he still thinks we’re playing our little game—where he’ll let me stop at what he deems fair. He doesn’t know Elodie shouldn’t be here.

“Fifty,” I bark, louder.

“Fifty-five,” someone challenges from the corner.

“Sixty,” I throw back.

The auctioneer gets a call. Then he raises a hand toward the balcony where Salvatore stands.

I glance up. Salvatore dips his head toward me like he’s just offered me a gift.

“Sorry, gentlemen. The bidding ends here. Boss’ orders,” the auctioneer declares. “Elodie Harper is sold for sixty thousand dollars.”

A rumble of complaints ripples across the room, but that’s all they do.Complain.

No matter what it cost me, I wasn’t going to let them have her.

I look back at Elodie.

Her eyes are already fixed on me with a mixture of shock and terror.

I almost smile.

Yes, little lamb. You’re right to be afraid.

Because now you have to deal with me.

I just bought you.

The thought sparks something dark and forbidden inside me, and when I look at her—practically naked under that spotlight—I become her Dorian Gray.