Page 25 of His Little Secret in Discretion
Blaine chuckled, leaning into my ear, his breath hot over my skin.
“You let Daddy take care of that, baby.”
The words were meant as a joke—I knew that. I knew it was ridiculous. But my face flushed hot, and my legs pressed together at the sound of his voice calling himselfDaddy. It was comical. It was insane.
But this was Blaine Porter. And I couldn’t blame myself for finding even his stupidest, cockiest lines impossibly, sinfully attractive.
Chapter ten
Maia
“Max, long time no see!” Blaine beamed.
The man stood, offering a handshake. “Porter, good to see you. I’m surprised Killian’s not around to keep an eye on you. Finally got a chance to slip away, huh?”
The backhanded joke carried a bite, but Blaine only smiled, shrugging as he pulled away and motioned me to sit. His hand guided mine until I sank into the seat beside him.
“Only way I’d be able to meet with you. Can you blame me?”
Maxwell chuckled, puffing on his cigar. One of the women returned with whiskeys on the rocks. Blaine took one, sipping lazily. I declined politely, my eyes scanning the room.
Maxwell had one guard.
Blaine? At least three. Odd. He usually kept to a minimum. Why the extra muscle tonight?
His palm landed on my knee, thumb brushing slow circles. My eyes flicked down, then back up, just in time to see Maxwell watching us a little too closely.
“And who might this lovely lady be?” His curiosity sounded casual, but his stare lingered.
Blaine’s smile widened, his thumb tightening against my skin. “This is Maia. She’s… my associate.”
“Your associate…” Maxwell chuckled, eyes dragging down my figure. His gaze was nothing compared to Blaine’s, but it still made my skin prickle.
Clearing my throat, I offered him a polite smile. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Vanderbilt.”
“On the contrary, Maia… the pleasure’s all mine,” he replied, raising his glass in a mock toast before draining it.
Blaine’s grip on my knee tightened, just slightly. His expression, however, stayed calm.
“So, Max,” Blaine cut in smoothly, “let’s get down to business. I need a final price on how much you want for the rig.”
Maxwell sighed, handing his empty glass to one of the women draped nearby. “Told you before, Porter. It’s priceless. Practically a family heirloom.”
“That doesn’t exactly align with your actual profitability margins,” Blaine countered, voice still easy.
Maxwell’s jaw ticked. “Regardless of profit, I’d think you’d understand the sentimental value. For the Vanderbilts, it’s more than numbers.”
Blaine tilted his head, smile sharp. “Father Vanderbilt must’ve passed it down for that very reason. But I’m sure both of you know… sentimental value doesn’t pay the bills.”
Maxwell chuckled humorlessly, crossing one leg over the other. “Humor me, Porter. What doyouknow about running an oil rig?”
Blaine’s lips curved into a mocking grin. “Not a damn thing. But I do know I’ve got the money to hire someone competent enough to do it for me… Better than just leaving it in your hands, wouldn’t you agree?”
“God, you’re almost as arrogant as Killian. The answer is no.”
Blaine leaned back, casual as ever. “Seven hundred fifty million.”
My mouth went dry. The room froze. Even the women hovering nearby stilled, eyes darting between them.
