Page 4 of Valentine’s Billionaire Auction

“Auction,” she said, her voice barely audible.

Right. The fucking auction.

Her desperate eyes held a silent plea for cooperation. Something about her vulnerability, her clear discomfort, piqued my curiosity. She looked like a terrified rabbit staring at a grizzly bear. Poor thing.

“You don’t think I can get there on my own?”

“I was told to show you the way,” she said, her voice a little more certain.

My jaw tightened as I straightened. I felt like throttling my PR manager for pushing me into this. For nearly two decades, my family’s hotel had hosted this fundraiser, and for nearly two decades, I had managed to avoid getting involved. Normally, the third auction slot was reserved for some fossilized old billionaire whose name alone brought in outrageous bids. But six weeks ago, he’d gone out in true tabloid style—an overdose on his yacht, surrounded by coke and escorts. That left an inconvenient little opening for me.

Billionaires willing to be auctioned off were apparently in short supply.

I exhaled sharply, shoving my irritation down. None of this was her fault. “Lead the way then,” I said, finally relenting.

Her shoulders sagged slightly in relief as she turned, expecting me to follow. She threaded through the throngs of glittering guests with more grace than her nervous demeanor let on.

The crowd wasn’t so inclined to weave around her.

She moved quickly but apologetically, muttering “sorry” and “excuse me” every time she brushed past someone. People barely glanced at her. A man bumped into her shoulder hard enough that she stumbled a step, and when someone stepped backward onto her foot, she actually toppled sideways.

Before she could hit the floor, I caught her, one hand steadying her elbow and the other at her waist. “You okay?” I asked.

She looked up at me, stunned, and nodded. Around us, the partygoers turned to see what had happened. A few gave me polite smiles that faltered when they glanced at her. I knew the rules my station in life dictated. The help was never to be seen or heard.

I ignored them and turned my attention back to her. “Are you okay?” I asked again.

“I’m fine,” she said.

“Excuse me,” a woman’s voice rang out. One of the more overdecorated guests waved a near-empty wineglass in the air. Her many diamonds caught the light, which I had a feeling was intentional. “Could you get me a refill?”

The woman in black, my escort, faltered. “Oh, I’m not—uh, I don’t⁠—”

“Relax, Vera,” I said smoothly to the guest, cutting her off. “I’m sure someone will be along with wine soon enough.” I turned to the woman I had just steadied. “Lead the way, miss?”

She was looking up at me like I was her knight in shining armor. I was definitely not that. I was no one’s knight.

Her mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “It’s Kaira,” she said finally, her voice small.

“Kaira,” I repeated, then gestured for her to continue. “Shall we?”

This time, I moved in front of her, acting like a linebacker protecting his quarterback. The crowd parted easily for me, guests stepping aside without hesitation. Behind me, I could hear her murmuring a quiet “thank you” or “sorry” as she slipped through. She only stepped around me again when we reached the backstage hall, where the other two “bachelors” were already waiting.

They greeted me with terse nods, neither bothering to look at Kaira. I couldn’t explain it, but for some reason, it really pissed me off that she was so easily dismissed. Was I like that? Was I an asshole that ignored people who weren’t in their social circles?

“All right,” she began nervously, glancing at a note card she’d pulled from her pocket. She gnawed at her bottom lip, acting like she had been thrown into the lion’s den and was afraid we were going to attack her. “You’ll be called to the stage shortly. I’ll give you your cues. Once you’re bid on, you’ll join your winning bidder in the crowd and spend the evening with them.” She shifted awkwardly as she read the card, clearly uncomfortable. “You’ll leave at ten for your planned date, which ends at two in the morning. Transportation is included.”

The other two men chuckled, trading amused glances.

I leaned back against the wall, crossing my arms. “The sooner this is over, the better.”

Kaira pressed on, explaining the logistics of the dates. The two men talked over her as if she didn’t exist, swapping stories about previous fundraisers and speculating on who might bid on them. She was still trying to explain what was expected of them, but they were ignoring her like she was an annoying fly.

I watched her retreat into herself. Her shoulders hunched slightly. She turned away from them and peeked out through the door into the ballroom. I followed her gaze, though my eyes didn’t linger long on the stage or the gathering crowd. Instead, they wandered back to her.

She was curvy in a way that was impossible to ignore, even beneath the utilitarian black uniform. Her posture was stiff, but it didn’t hide the fullness of her hips. I wondered what she would look like in something elegant, something that matched the sparkle of the ballroom beyond the door.

“When are we getting this show on the road?” I asked irritably.