Page 54 of Valentine’s Billionaire Auction

“Can I get you anything else?” the man asked.

“Can I know your name?” I asked him.

“Tony.”

“Tony, I’m Kaira and this is Carla.”

“Very well, ma’am.”

“Please, call me Kaira,” I said.

He nodded and walked away. Carla eagerly lifted her dome and gasped when she saw the fluffy omelet and a side of golden hash browns laced with fine herbs. Beside it, slices of ripe avocado and a vine-ripened tomato salad completed the picturesque breakfast.

I lifted my own dome and found a similar dish. The aromas mingled in the air, creating a delightful scent that seemed almost too luxurious for an early morning meal.

“This is like eating at a gourmet restaurant every day,” Carla exclaimed, forking into her omelet with a pleased sigh. “You could get used to this.”

I took a bite of my own meal, the flavors rich and perfectly balanced. It was delicious.

“So, what happened yesterday?” she asked. “Don’t say nothing, because I can tell there is definitely something.”

I took a deep breath and gave her the rundown, skipping over the most salacious details.

“Are you going to stay?” she asked.

“Yes. For now. But we can’t cross the line. I don’t want this to get confusing.”

She nodded. “I think that’s a good rule. You don’t want to fall in love with the guy and have him dump you in six months, which is the plan.”

“Exactly. It feels so real sometimes, it’s hard to remember the ticking clock hanging over our heads.”

“Just keep your eyes on the prize,” Carla said, shoveling up more hash browns. “In six months, it’s payday.”

I knew she was right. This was a business deal, a transaction. My heart wouldn’t get broken if I kept my head on straight and didn’t let myself fall under his spell.

We finished our breakfast and then took ourselves on a tour of the mansion. Carla and I giggled and twirled around in the ballroom. After finishing our impromptu dance number, we were greeted with a round of applause.

Several of the staff were leaning against the wall and watching us.

“It’s nice to have laughter back in the house,” one of them, a middle-aged woman named Marta, said with a kind smile.

That caught my attention. “Back in the house?”

She nodded, her expression softening. “It’s been a long time since this place felt warm. Or like a home.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just nodded and followed Carla as she dragged me toward the next room.

The library was easily my favorite. Carla’s jaw dropped when we walked in.

“Okay, this is where I’m living now,” she declared.

“It’s amazing, right?”

After exploring the shelves in depth, we found ourselves in one of the sitting rooms. Carla threw herself onto one of the oversized sofas and leaned back.

I laughed and joined her, sinking into the plush cushions. The kitchen staff brought us a tray of snacks—fresh fruit, cheese, crackers, and some kind of fancy sparkling water. Carla immediately dove in while pulling out her phone.

“So,” she said around a mouthful of cheese, “let’s Google your fiancé.”