Page 26 of To the Highest Bidder

“Try this. It’s one of the best.” He said, his eyes on hers. He held it up, close enough for her to smell it, but she stepped back. Smell was a sense that could reliably invoke memories, and scotch never invoked good ones for her. She knew her reaction was disproportionate and so she lied to cover it.

“I had too much scotch one night, when I was still in school. I can’t go near it now.”

Karina winced. “I’m like that with Ouzo.” She shuddered.

Jane suspected Carter hadn’t bought her story. It was strange, but she just seemed to understand him. It was as though, on top of the tiny little threads that were melding their bodies together, an invisible net of comprehension was forming between their minds. He understood her too well. It terrified her. She didn’t look directly at him. “I’ll make a coffee.”

“I’ll do it.” Carter said. “Black?”

“Yeah.” How did he know that?

“Your birthday,” he said, smiling at her.

“Nothing wrong with your memory,” she murmured. “Then again, you weren’t under the influence of several cocktails and a glass of champagne.”

“How did you two meet?”

Jane’s eyes flew to Carter’s face, but he seemed unbothered by the routine question. He was in the midst of pouring coffee into a cup, and he continued without a flicker of response.

“Through a mutual acquaintance, and then quite by chance. Jane happened to be celebrating her birthday at the same place I was meeting someone.”

“A date, if I remember correctly.”

“Yes.” He shook his head. “I wasn’t prepared to let her go twice, though.”

“That sounds… incredibly romantic,” Karina said, her surprise obvious.

Jane had to clamp down on her lip to stop herself from laughing. The proposition Carter had offered her was not romantic. It was mercenary and sexy, but not romantic in the slightest.

“Yes,” Jane sighed, blinking her long lashes up at Carter. “That’s Carter.”

“Are you mocking me?” He asked quietly, his eyes teasing her, his lips smiling.

“Never!” She took the coffee mug from him and walked towards the lounge. She sat on the edge of one. Carter took up the seat beside her, and Karina opposite.

“Do you live in the city?” Karina asked.

Jane nodded. “I’ve been in the Village, all my life.”

“It must have been interesting growing up in Manhattan.”

“It was busy. Loud.”

“Sounds like a world apart from us, hey Carter?”

Jane looked at the man whose body she could describe in perfect detail and frowned.

“We were raised in Austin,” he elaborated, in response to her silent question. “Our fathers are cousins. When my parents divorced, mum kept the Austin ranch. Meaning Karina was my neighbour.”

“We’re only two years apart, so we were more like brother and sister.” She added, folding her long legs beneath her on the sofa.

“How old were you? When your parents divorced?”

“Five.” He threw his scotch down in one motion, then placed the glass on the coffee table. She looked at it thoughtfully.

“Is that an Eames original?”

He lifted a brow in surprise. “I believe it is. I’d have to check with my decorator to be sure.”

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