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“Occasionally there’s an item that catches my attention. What are you after tonight?”

“Wine. What about you?”

“Wine.”

“Oh well. Isn’t this awkward? How vicious is our battle going to get?”

His eyes twinkle. “It depends.”

“On what?”

“How much are you going to make me pay?”

At that moment, the crowd parts and my gaze locks with Kace’s where he stands talking to Mark. He’s staring at me, his expression unreadable, but intense. I want to know why. I want to know, too badly for my own good. I can’t seem to breathe with the heat rushing over my skin. I suck in a breath and I swear his gaze lowers to my mouth. God, what is happening?

“How much?” Alexander presses.

I jerk my gaze back to his. “I guess we’ll see. Excuse me.” I fade into the crowd, desperate to reach out to my client and press his limits. And the truth is, I need out of the scorching stare of Kace August.

CHAPTER FIVE

I exit the pre-auction cocktail room and step into the hallway, spying a giant podium with hundreds of tiny red roses in it. I follow the lush scent and step behind it to dial Ed. “Did we get it?” he asks anxiously.

“Not yet. I just want to be clear. You put 400k in the escrow to include my fee. How high do you want to go?”

“I’ll go the whole four-hundred and make up your fee tomorrow morning, but I’d rather not.”

“Okay. Well, I need you to know this is a bidding situation and there is at least one other bidder who really wants this wine.”

“Of course there is. Then go the four hundred thousand without regret.”

Relief washes over me. “Okay. I’ll let you know.” I disconnect and walk around to the flower display to find Kace a few feet away on the other side, talking on his phone. And I now know that his navy blue T-shirt and blazer are paired with dark jeans that hug his deliciously muscular body.

That I shouldn’t be noticing.

I pause, hating the idea of interrupting him at all, but if I stay where I’m at, it might seem as if I’m listening in. Decision made, I start walking. “Not this holiday. No. I need a break. I told you that.” His eyes lift and find me. “I’m not going to do this right now. Call me tomorrow.” He ends the call.

“Small world,” he says, and at the prod I pause, turning to face him, those stunning eyes of his fixed on me. Instantly, I feel the energy between us, the push and pull, the charge. I tell myself it’s my imagination. I tell myself I don’t want this, but it’s a lie, and while I hate lies, it’s one of many I tell to survive.

“It is a small world,” I reply, managing to sound impressively cool, but the energy is still pulsing in the air, consuming me, dragging me closer to him when I haven’t taken a step. I start trying to reason it away. He’s talented. I admire him. I fear him. The energy is all mine. But yet, I don’t know. I do not believe I’ve ever felt anything like this with anyone else, ever. Not that I’ve let many men into my life. Unlike my brother, who whores around to cope with our situation, I shut myself off. I protect myself.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” I add.

“You are far more interesting than that call.” He says the words as if they’re obvious rather than flirtation, though there’s that energy between us. I think. I’m confused. “You met Crystal?” he asks.

“I did,” I say. “You were right. She was helpful. She’s going to get me into the VIP auction.”

“I knew she would.” He motions his hand. “She jumps right past Mark’s bullshit.”

I’m awkwardly staring at his hand, the hand that holds his bow. I wonder which bow he prefers and I jerk my gaze to his. Which I will never know because I won’t ask. “I can’t decide if you and Mark are friends or enemies.”

He laughs a low, sexy rumble that sings like a rough note of his violin. “Most people can’t.”

“I’m not sure what that means.”

“Ask me again,” he replies, “another time.”

Another time. As if there will be another time, and I suppose there could be, considering the VIP auction that is still weeks away. Weeks too long when Gio is missing.

An announcement sounds over the intercom. “The auction will begin in five minutes. Please take your seats.”

“They’re calling us,” he says. “Why don’t I show you the way around?”

No, I think. Yes, I think. Please, I think. “Thank you,” I say.

“You’re very polite,” he teases and motions me forward.

“Shouldn’t I be?” I ask, as we fall into step and I realize now that he’s tall, well over six feet to my five feet four inches.

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