Page 12 of An Enchanted Spring
His laugh was hollow. “I’m so far beyond saving, but I’d like that to stay between us.”
She sighed. “Mr. MacWilliam, let’s be honest. What, exactly, do you want from me?”
His face remained impassive. “I thought we just went over it. I need you to represent me at the auction tomorrow night.”
“Your anonymity is guaranteed at the auction house. All you have to do is use one of their proxy-by-phone in-house bidders. You won’t have to show your face, and the public, without any visual, won’t be able to trace you.”
He shook his head. “No. I need tobethere, to ensure the lot is as expected. But I can’t bid for myself.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Why not?”
His expression grew serious. “As far as anyone knows, I’m in Ireland. And I need it to stay that way.”
She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Are you in trouble of some sort?”
“Nothing you need to be involved with. But I prefer it if the only ones who know I’m here are you, your boss, and my clansman.”
She glanced over at the man standing by the door. “Him?”
“Aye.”
“Okay,” she replied slowly. “So, if you’re not going to bid in this auction, why are you here?”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to be a bidder.” He drained his whiskey glass. “I said I wasn’t going to be biddingmyself.”
Her eyes widened. “You can’t mean for me to do so in your place?”
He nodded wordlessly, his expression determined.
Emma swallowed hard. “I…” she trailed off, unable to formulate her jumbled thoughts. “This isn’t…”
He tipped his glass toward her. “Either you accept the contract or you don’t.”
She carefully—regretfully—pushed the binder away. “I don’t think I can sign this after all.”
Aidan merely lifted a brow.
“You’ve put me between a rock and a hard place, Mr. MacWilliam.” She felt a keen disappointment; she really liked him, and working with him would’ve been a welcome breath of fresh air from her normal sort of client.
He gently nudged the binder back toward her. “I realize that and I’m sorry for it. But you’re the most qualified to help me. And I’ve taken provisions within this agreement against any ramifications to your career, plus the additional offer to pay ten thousand dollars immediately, deposited directly into your bank before the auction tomorrow night.”
What he was offering was insanity, pure and simple, but what she said was, “This is all very strange. Price would never accept a client paying me directly.”
“If Price wants his commission, he’ll do as I say,” Aidan replied mildly.
“Mr. MacWilliam, a very large percentage of Mr. Price’s clientele plan to attend this auction. Some are flying in at the last moment, others are using proxy bidders. If I act asyourproxy bidder, as you stipulate in this contract, and I outbid another Price client on an item—”
“All items.”
She choked. “What?”
He topped off her wineglass. “All items, Ms. Perkins. We’re obtaining the whole lot.”
“That’s millions of dollars!” she burst out.
“I estimate about three, maybe up to five, million,” he replied without inflection.
Five million dollars?Emma couldn’t imagine having that much money to spend on dusty artifacts, no matter how amazing the history.
