Page 15 of Destined To Fall

Antonyisamused. His countenance reeks of it. I cut him a look, and he has the audacity to appear confused and affronted. He raises his shoulders and mouths,“What?”

“Twenty-five hundred to the man on my right,” the auctioneer says, getting in quick.

“Three thousand!”

“Four!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I’ve had enough of this pissing contest.“Seven thousand,” I scream out, raising my paddle and shooting Antony a don’t-you-even-think-about-it glare, hopefully putting an end to this ridiculous game.

“A wonderful seven thousand to the woman on my right in blue. Going once. Going twice?” The auctioneer looks around, his eager eyes searching the crowd like a shopaholic at her next sale, but the luminosity in his gaze diminishes when he’s met with no resistance.“Sold.” He slams his gavel down, and I squeal with glee.

“Well done.” Antony’s condescending tone ruins my moment.

“Yes, well, if you want something done, you do it yourself,” I say. Antony scoffs in response.“I’m going to finalize my purchase. When you’re done, meet me by the door? I’m bored.”

He nods, smiling, and shaking with a quiet chuckle as I walk off, and I wonder why he’s so amused and letting me get away with the attitude.

I’ve just finished paying when Jeremy comes up behind me.“Congratulations.”

I shoot him a dubious smile over my shoulder.

“No, really. I’m glad you won.”

“Is that so? Could have fooled me.” I turn around, heading for the door when he pulls on my arm.

“Wait. I’m sorry.”

“For what? For trying to buy my painting, or for trying to outbid my…”

“Date?”

“What are you playing at?” I all but whisper-shout at him.

“Business?”he ribs.

This has all gone to shit. Why I thought mixing business with…god, I don’t even know what this is, but it was not a good idea. And damn it, why are my feathers so ruffled? I feel like a cat that’s been rubbed the wrong way.

I sigh and shake my head.“What were you trying to achieve?”

“Come to Luke’s gallery with me.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you need to see the rest of his work.”

I narrow my eyes in a vain attempt at pulling the truth from his rather plump, hypnotic mouth—shit. His lips curl into an amused smirk, and my gaze darts upward to his sparkling eyes.Damn it.

“Because I like you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Why?”

Because I’ll eat you alive and spit you out, is what I should say.“When?”

“Whenever, but he has a special viewing next week.”

I’ll be Antony-free…

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