Page 3 of Auctioned

His soul seems just as black as the outfit he dons today over his broad frame.

The rest of him is just as imposing.

Eyes that are icy blue.

Jaw so sharp it could do more than cut a person—it could make them bleed out and die at his feet.

Hair as dark as the night, cut short on the sides and a little longer on top.

Maybe he’ll help me. For that to happen, I have to shake off this terror that clutches onto every part of my being.

Except I’m unable to bring myself to look him in the eye. I look at his hands instead.

His hands. Fuck. I shouldn’t be comparing them to Topher’s in a situation like this.

I do.

They’re large like his. But James’s fingers are longer. More elegant.

And one of his hands is tattooed.

The rose with the blood droplets tattooed on the back of his palm seems almost angry.

As the last words Topher said mess with my head, I search James’s body language for signs. Anything that might mean that he, too, thinks Topher is in the wrong.

No movement comes from the head of the table. James’s hands are flattened on the table top. His steak remains untouched.

I’ll have to face Topher alone, then.

Won’t be the first time I’ve had to stand up for myself.

I’ve got this.

Topher drops the piece of his filet into his mouth and offers me his famousso whatlook. HisYou’ll take the breadcrumbs I’m willing to offer youlook—another reason why I’ve been meaning to end our relationship.

I will end it.

If I make it out of here.

Wait. Why wouldn’t I? They can’t—they don’t own me. They won’t sell me.

The pressure in my chest intensifies. My blood temperature rises. I can’t think straight. I can’t bring myself to get up.

I guess I’ll have to ask for help after all.

I brace myself before raising my gaze to James’s face.

His frosty eyes, framed by thick, dark lashes, stare back at me. They remind me of sleet falling outside my window at night.

Something’s brewing behind them. An emotion I can’t quite put my finger on. I wish I could.

Before this evening, I thought it hadn’t been fair to Topher. Me, being drawn to his dad. I’d been captivated by him in ways I shouldn’t have. I hated it. Hated longing for a man who wasn’t my boyfriend.

Hated that I acknowledged he was the hotter of the two.

This, too, is yet another reason for me to put this relationship and both Hawthorne men behind me.

They’re wrong for me. Both of them. Even though they’re my type.

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