Page 18 of Auctioned for Her Blood
I turn to find Zuben standing a few feet away, even more shockingly handsome in a tuxedo, one that fits him so well it looks tailored to the millimeter. The light from the hall sparkles in his dancing brown eyes and their attention is directly on me.
I back up, running into the table behind me, my body trembling at the close proximity to not one but two men I find immensely attractive. Two men who couldn’t be more different.
“Mr. Zuben!” Shana’s voice draws my attention and a grin spreads over her face. “No one informed me you’d arrived.” She glares at Henry, who’s now leaning against the wall and scrolling on his phone, so engrossed he doesn’t notice the reprimand.
“Just Zuben,” he says. “No need for the mister, and I arrived only moments ago.” He glares at Ryker. “Perhaps I was followed.”
Followed?Is Zuben the friend that Ryker claimed to be looking for? The vibe between them doesn’t seem friendly.
Zuben turns toward Shana. “Did I hear you were calling the police? Is something amiss?” Looking down at the table, his eyes open wider. “Is that LGD?” The two men make eye contact, distrust written all over both of their faces. Whoever they are to each other, they are not friends.
“Zuben,” I say, hoping to smooth the situation. “This gentleman offered to pay for his ticket with a gold bar, but we’re not sure that it’s authentic.”
“May I?” Zuben asks.
Shana steps to the side, a smug look on her face, like she’s glad to have an ally, and the two men stare at each other. It’s clear thatsomethingis going on, but I can’t make out what.
“Do you know each other?” I ask Zuben.
“Haven’t had the pleasure,” Ryker says quickly, extending his hand. “Ryker Stone, and you are?”
“An expert in gold bullion,” Zuben replies without looking up from the bar.
“Well now, that is helpful.” Ryker says, and then raises his eyebrows as he looks at me. “I’m very happy to have someone settle this.” He leans across the table, moving his lips close to my ear. “So that you and I can get better acquainted.”
A shiver races through me—the tremor a mixture of fear and something else—and I shift closer to Zuben, inappropriately closer I realize too late, but instead of moving away, Zuben presses his hip against mine.
Warmth, and what can only be called electricity, sparks from the connection, but Zuben acts as if he hasn’t even noticed as he picks up the gold bar and examines it, flipping it over, running his fingers over the indentations, holding it up to the light, testing the weight of it in his hands and examining some faint indentations on the back.
“Where did you get this?” he asks Ryker.
“None of your fucking business,” Ryker replies, and then he nods toward Shana and me. “Ladies, please pardon my French.”
Ryker captures my gaze and something stirs deep inside me. Something that leaves me uncomfortable, yet craving more.What is going on with me?Here I am pressing my hip against one man and flirting with another.
Perhapsthisis why Mom warned me not to go out after dark. Maybe she cast some kind of nymphomania spell on me that only activates after dark.
I shake my head at that foolish thought. More than a decade after mom disappeared, I’m not even sure I believe in magic anymore. My childhood is like a bad nightmare, mostly forgotten.
“This bar is authentic,” Zuben says to Shana. “And based on today’s spot rate, I would estimate its value at…seven hundred and eighty-six thousand, four hundred and fifty eight US dollars, give or take.”
“You’re shitting me!” Shana exclaims, then raises her hand to her mouth. “It’s real? I mean—really?”
Ryker shrugs. His body reads,I told you so,but casually, like it’s no big deal, like his pockets are full of those bars. Maybe they are.
“And you want to donate this gold bar to Sanctuary House?” Shana’s voice is a mixture of wonder and skepticism.
“Sure,” Ryker says, “why the hell not.” His eyes flash wider, like he’s had an idea, and he leans toward Shana. “And that isn’t the limit of my finances. In fact, I’m very much looking forward to your live auction.”
Shana tips her head to the side, considering the suggestion, then she turns to Zuben. “Are you absolutely certain this is real?”
“Yes. I am afraid so.” He glares at Ryker. “Very sure. And as your new benefactor, I would be happy to advise you whether you want to sell it, or store it safely as an investment.” He hands her the bar and she grips it in both hands as if it might run away.
“So…” Shana’s breathless.
“Yes. I have decided to pledge my funding in the amount we discussed.” Zuben nods sharply and his hip slides against mine, eliciting a sharp intake of breath combined with a tight contraction between my legs.
“For now,” he continues, “might I suggest the hotel safe for this gold bar? I will be happy to escort you there, if you desire.”
