Page 68 of Auctioned to the Billionaire Surgeon

Madeline had nodded. “That means you keep your hair, waxing, and nail appointments every week. That means youwear hot as fuck lingerie every single day for him. That means when you get home from the hospital and you’re tired, you don’t take a shower, throw your hair in a messy bun, and sit on the couch in sweats. You take a shower, re-do your hair and makeup, and put on a nice outfit in time to greet him at the door.” She’d looked around at our audience in the coffeeshop. “And you’re ready to fuck him at a moment’s notice. Free use. You know what that means, right?”

I thought back over their words now. I was beat. I’d had a hell of a day at the hospital, and all I wanted to do was take a shower and go to bed early. But Carmen and Madeline were right; Paolo’s money was paying for school. It was going to buy me a house. He’d already bought my car and a shit ton of very expensive designer clothes. The least I could do was look beautiful for him.

And fuck him. It’s not like that was a burden. He turned me on like no one else ever had. I bit my lip. I was already pretty sure he was going to ruin me for all other men. He was everything I wanted in a man; everything I desired. I tried not to think about how I’d feel when our contracted time was up.

I grabbed a Coke Zero from the fridge for a caffeine boost, then hopped in the shower. I was just finishing up my hair and makeup as I heard him come home from work.

“Hey,” I yelled out in greeting. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Do you want to go out?” He called.

I padded out in my bare feet and a robe. “Where?”

“I thought we’d eat on the rooftop at Bahia Del Sol. What do you think?”

“Sounds perfect. Do you know I worked there for a week or so with Daisy when Leo and Joaquin needed some extra help?”

“I wish I’d known that then. I was probably depressed, sitting in Sugar and wondering where the hell you were.”

I smiled and walked over to him. Paolo was a tall, broad-shouldered man. Sometimes I forgot exactly how tall he was because I often wore heels around him. Even at the hospital I wore Dansko clogs which added a couple of inchesat least. But standing beside him when I was barefoot? I felt tiny.

I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” His gray eyes were hard to read. “I hate my new front desk receptionist. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t even like kids. I’m going to have to get rid of her.” He bent and kissed me again, his hands gripping my waist. “But that’s not the only reason I missed you,” he admitted.

He pushed a lock of hair behind my ear carefully, studying my face. “You look gorgeous. How do you always look so perfect?”

I wasn’t going to be the one to spoil the fantasy. I wasn’t revealing that I’d just re-done my morning routine so I looked fresh as a daisy for him. One day he’d get married. His wife could spoil it for him.

I felt a sudden, sharp pain of sadness that he’d settle down with someone else someday. Someone who wasn’t me. I didn’t realize I had a hand on my chest until he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I forced a smile. I was being ridiculous. I knew I didn’t stand a chance with him. He was going to marry some society woman bred to be a doctor, businessman, or lawyer’s wife. Not a hostess from a strip club who didn’t have a clue who her dad was. “Let me get dressed and we can go, if you’re ready.”

“Sounds good,” he massaged his temples, wincing.

I frowned. “Are you sure you want to go out? I’m fine with staying in.”

He opened his eyes and looked at me as if I’d said I was Santa Claus’ wife. “You are?”

“Sure. We can order in. I can make you a cocktail.” I rolled my eyes. “Or pour you a whiskey since you’re boring and never like to change it up.”

He grinned. “You know me so well.” He plopped down on one of the bar stools. “That sounds fantastic, actually.”

“Let me go get dressed.”

“Wait a minute,” his commanding tone had me stopping on a dime and turning to face him. “What are you going towear?”

“Um… a sundress?”

His eyebrows went up. “To stay in? I’m going to shower and then put on a T-shirt and some sweatpants.”

I forced a smile. That sounded so damn good. But I didn’t want Carmen or Madeline to find out.

He was staring at me. “Why are you looking like that? Go put on leggings or something like that.”

“If you insist,” I ran out of the room. He’s the one who told me to wear it, I rationalized.

We spent the evening eating Thai takeout on the balcony. I drank wine; he drank whiskey. We talked, laughed, and got to know each other better. But I already felt comfortable with him. I guess that’s because I’d known him for a while now, and I’d known he was at least somewhat into me for that whole time.