Page 5

Chapter 4

Eve

He’s the most stunning man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Holy heck, I barely resist the urge to fan myself as he stares down at me. Towering tall with muscles rippling beneath his shirt, he commands the room effortlessly. His short, perfectly styled, black hair adds an edge to his already mesmerizing looks. And those dark brown and piercing eyes lock onto mine with an intensity that feels like a spotlight aimed directly at me.

A shiver runs up my spine, and it’s not just from the brisk air in the room or the occasional draft brushing my skin. There’s something magnetic about him, a pull halting my breath in my chest. No matter how hard I try, I can’t tear my gaze away from his.

There’s something in the way he carries himself that screams confidence. He has every reason to be confident with that arrogant smirk playing at the edges of his lips and the short, trimmed beard over a jawline so perfectly chiseled it makes me question reality.

My heart thumps away in my chest like a heavy bass drum as the auctioneer continues the bidding. Tension crackles through the crowd and bids continue to rise, but I’m still fixated on him. The grinning women around me shout their offers as the thought of some other woman spending the weekend with him causes my stomach to clench.

So, I make sure that doesn’t happen. The ten-thousand-dollar bid leaves my lips, shocking not only him but myself. Oh well, I’ll just have to tighten my purse strings to pay for it.

Shockwaves ripple through the room as heads turn and eyes widen. But the moment he locks his eyes with mine, satisfaction cuts through me. The look in his eyes goes from casual interest to something deeper, something that makes my insides turn to mush.

“Sold!” the auctioneer barks, and suddenly, my heart races in ways I never anticipated. No one who knows me would ever believe I just dropped ten grand on a guy I don’t even know. The rest of the world fades away as Eric Cobalt steps down from the stage, a smirk dancing on those perfect lips.

My breath hitches as he hops down from the stage and prowls over to me. His tall body towers over my five-foot-three frame causing my heart to race.

“About time you bid on me.”

“I almost didn’t, but I could use the tax deduction.” I shrug, playing it cool, even as my cheeks heat up under his intense gaze.

“I can see your impertinent tongue is going to keep me on my toes,” he says with a half-smirk, arms crossed as if he’s ready for a challenge.

My mouth takes off without consulting my brain. “It’s the things I can do with my tongue you should worry about.”

“Fucking hell,” he whispers, taking a step closer, his presence overwhelming. “I’m in over my head with you, Siren.”

“My name is Eve,” I correct him, my confidence growing with each second. “You have to earn the right to call me a nickname.”

“Well, Eve,” he says, a wicked glint in his eye. “I’m up to the challenge.”

I meet his gaze head-on, feeling emboldened. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

And just like that, the world ignites around us. The chaos of the auction fades, and for the first time in a long while, I feel alive with all the possibilities.

My heart pounds a crazy rhythm in my chest, and I barely notice Roman approaching me, his grin sly and knowing, like a cat that caught the damn canary.

"Eve," he says smoothly, sidling up next to me. "Before you take off with your newly acquired bachelor, you need to see the club treasurer to wrap up the transaction."

Ah, right. The small detail of handing over ten grand for a date with a stranger. I could use a few minutes to get control of myself, so I nod and weave through the throng of bodies toward the back office before Eric can protest.

It doesn’t take long for me to hand over a large chunk of my savings and sign the paperwork. I step out of the office to find Eric standing against the wall, arms and legs casually crossed, scanning the hallway like a panther surveying its territory.

There's something about him, though. Whatever it is, it’s oddly familiar beneath the brash confidence and devil-may-care attitude, almost like déjà vu but just out of reach.

I can’t think of anything to say to him—a first for me—so I walk past him and head to the bar. I need a strong drink if I’m going to keep my head in this situation.

As we move toward the bar, the crowd gradually thins around us, leaving a palpable air of intimacy. I sink onto a stool, feeling the adrenaline of the auction transform into expectation mixed with unrestrained curiosity.

Eric orders two whiskeys, neat. As the amber liquid sloshes into our glasses, I can't help but notice the easy way he carries himself, like he owns every damn room he walks into. It's mesmerizing.

"So, Eve," he says, raising his glass, the clink of crystal ringing between us. "Would you have a late-night dinner with me?" I’m so freaking tempted to blurt out “yes,” but I hold myself back. “And I can start earning the right to call you by a nickname.”

I take a sip of my drink, the heat trailing down my throat, and I meet his intense gaze head-on. "As tempting as that sounds, I'm going to have to say no." His eyebrow arches, intrigued.

"Playing hard to get?" His voice is a smooth rumble, laced with amusement.