Page 17 of Auctioned for Her Blood
“I’m not hungry.” He leans onto the table. “Not for dinner, anyway.” His words come off predatory, but his grin doesn’t, and both stir up whatever’s fluttering inside my body.
“To be honest,” he continues, “it was your saucy little auction that drew my attention.” He tips his head to the side. “Humans for sale? How very eighteenth century.”
“It’s not like that!” I blurt, but then I smile, as his eyes reveal he was teasing again, joking.
“Perchance,” he asks, “areyouon the auction block?”
I shake my head.
“Aw, what a shame.” His chest expands under his white shirt and leather coat, as he heaves an exaggerated sigh. “Nevertheless, I’d love to attend your little soiree and, as I said, I will make a sizable donation.”
“Is there a problem?” Shana arrives beside me.
“This gentleman would like to attend the gala,” I tell her.
“Andmake a sizable donation,” he adds.
“He doesn’t have a ticket,” Henry interjects.
Shana clears her throat. “The tickets are $500.” She crosses her arms over her chest, clearly assuming this will close the matter and send him away. “We accept all major credit cards—and no discount because you missed dinner.” Shana is clearly hoping to get rid of this guy, and I’m shocked to find myself disappointed.
Ryker reaches into his jacket, pulls out a gleaming gold bar and sets it onto the table. “I assume this will cover it?”
“Is that real gold?” I ask, breathless.
“Sure is, luv.” Raising his eyebrows at me, Ryker runs a thick finger down its gleaming metal side, and the gesture is so sensual I can feel its effect on me.
“Sir.” Shana leans onto the table. “I’m afraid we can’t accept your stage prop or whatever it is. But as I said, wedoaccept all major credit cards.”
“Too generous?” His finger traces the markings on the bar.AU 999.9, 400 oz.
I’m not sure what an ounce of gold is worth, but suspect it’s a hundred dollars at least, so if I’m right and this is four hundred ounces of gold, it’s worth…forty thousand? Is that right?
“Is that really four hundred ounces of gold?”
He looks into my eyes. “Sure is, my very,verybonnie lass.” He taps the bar. “This puppy’s currently worth about seven-fifty, more or less.”
“Seven hundred and fifty dollars?” I inhale. It’s less than I thought, but still… “That’s very generous.” I turn to Shana. “At least fifty percent more than the ticket is worth.”
Frowning, she shakes her head. “He means, seven hundred and fiftythousanddollars.”
I gasp, turning back toward Ryker. “Three quarters of a million?” My heart races; my head buzzes. I’ve never seen so much money.
“But it’s clearly fake,” Shana adds flatly.
“Madam.” Placing his hand over his heart, Ryker leans toward Shana. “I assure you, it is not.”
Shana’s eyes narrow. “You’re saying you carry gold bars around in your motorcycle jacket?” Her voice drips in disbelief.
“This, madam is most definitely not amotorcyclejacket.” He runs his hand over his leather coat, like he’s a tailor proud of his finest fares.
“Listen.” Shana’s voice rises. “If you and your fake gold bar don’t get out of here, I’m calling security.”
“Heavens,” he says in a mocking tone. “Not hotel security! What a terrifying threat.”
“There’s no need for sarcasm.” Shana folds her arms over her chest. “If you prefer, we can skip past the hotel and go straight to the police.”
“Might I be of assistance?” says a deep warm voice from behind us.
