Page 35 of Auctioned to the Billionaire Surgeon

I turned to look over my shoulder, and my eyes locked on his briefly. I saw warmth there and something else I couldn’t quite define. I looked away, walked out the door, and shut it behind me.

***

Paolo

“This is so exciting,” Lyla said.

“Hmm? Yes, I suppose so,” I was looking around the huge club, designed to look like an upscale New Orleans-style speak easy with a 1920s vibe. I was looking for Jelly and was decidedly less excited than Lyla. Why was she excited? Weren’t all of these rich girls supposed to be used to charity events? Weren’t they all supposed to act cool, calm, and collected at these things? Lyla was acting more chipper and chirpy than Jelly ever would have. Not that I could imagine Jelly being chipper and chirpy.

Jelly. She’d overheard me basically telling Lyla that Jelly was nothing compared to her. Why had I said that? Why had I wanted to hurt Jelly? Was I so cruel that because she wouldn’t sleep with me I wanted to trash her self-esteem? Besides, it couldn’t be further from the truth. Lyla was a pretty girl, but Jelly was… magnificent.

And me? Well, I was a fuckingasshole.

I threw back my whiskey and immediately tapped the glass for the bartender to refill it. “Would you like anything?” I asked Lyla.

“Champagne, please.”

I nodded, and the bartender pushed a glass towards her. I stuffed a couple of large bills in his tip jar and turned my back to the bar so I could better see the gala attendees. I scanned the room for her, but there still wasn’t any sight of Jelly.

“Do you like my dress, Paolo? You didn’t say much about it.” Lyla smoothed the material over her hips.

No. I fucking hated it. It was floor-length, with long sleeves, and a high neck. It made her look like a nun. Or a victim of scarring. Then all that fabric was covered in bright sequins strung together to form a fucking garden’s worth of flowers on her dress.

I thought it was tacky. “You look… very nice.”

She pouted. “Very nice? I wanted you to think I looked gorgeous.”

“You do,” I assured her, bending to kiss her cheek. She had her long, silky hair pulled into some sort of bun that was supposed to look elegant but instead reminded me of the elderly sisters at my elementary school back in Foggia.

And her fresh, dewy skin that had given her such a youthful appearance?

It was completely covered in tons of makeup. Like, a whole store’s worth. I couldn’t believe how much makeup she was wearing. She didn’t look like a clown or anything, but it was obvious she’d been heavy handed when she got ready today.

“Ladies and gentlemen, if you’ll please make your way to your seats, dinner is about to begin,” Gloria Salazar said from the dais. She rarely emceed these events, but this one was supposed to be near and dear to her heart.

In all honesty, I couldn’t even remember which charity it was for.

“Come along, Lyla.” I held out my arm for her, and we walked to the table number we’d been given. As weapproached, I saw her.

Jelly.

She had just entered the ballroom. She was on the arm of Nico Salazar. My heart plummeted. What the hell was she doing withhim? He wasn’t a good choice for her! But as I stood watching, I saw him take her coat and check it for her. For a moment, she stood at the entrance alone as she waited for him to return. All I could do was stare.

She was breathtakingly gorgeous. Her shiny, black hair was styled in waves that flowed over her shoulders and down her back. Her eyes were so blue you could tell the color from across the room. And her fucking body. I wiped a hand over my mouth. She wore a simple, beaded cocktail dress. Simple, yet elegant. It was lowcut, but tasteful. Short, but modest.

It was, in a word, classy. I’d thought Lyla, with her old money background and her connections in West Bay, would look more like that. Instead, she looked garish, while the woman who worked as a hostess in a strip club looked like she should be on the cover ofTown and Countrymagazine.

She was exquisite. And she was here with Nico.

He came back from the coat check and offered her his arm. She took it, and the two of them talked and laughed together as they were handed their table number for the evening.

“Paolo, you haven’t heard one word I’ve been saying.”

“Sorry.” I looked down at my date. “I was distracted.”

She twisted her mouth as she followed my gaze. “Yes, I see that.”

God. The last thing I wanted was for her to figure out how I felt about Jelly.