Page 53 of Auctioned Surrender

He guides me up a flight of stairs and then to an elevator at the other end of the hall before punching in a code. The overhead display changes from numeric, and two words appear when the car stops—private VIP.

The doors open. Dereck checks the foyer, glancing side to side, and then gestures me out, keeping the strength of his hand on the small of my back as he guides me to the only door onthe top floor of this hotel. “The security team owners keep a few penthouses here. We’re often in and out of the airport, and this makes life a little easier when we need a place to stay,” Dereck says.

The living space is larger than the room we left and more like a large condo than a hotel. The full kitchen has a green marble counter, stainless appliances, a large sofa and love seat, and a big-screen television mounted on the wall.

“I’ll set this bag in your bedroom. The suite has two, so you can have the one with the whirlpool in case you want to take a swim.”

“Thank you.” I slip out of my shoes, running my feet through the luxurious carpet. There’s a knock on the door, and my pulse begins to race. I’ve seen R.J.’s temper firsthand and also know precisely the weapon he’s packing. “He can’t find me here with you,” I say to Dereck as he returns.

“There’s nothing to worry about, Layla. He won’t have a clue where to look after he gets to the hotel and finds you checked in, but then checked out a half hour later.”

I glance up at him and try to contain my grin. “R.J. will be in an absolute temper, but the look on his face when he learns I’ve disappeared right under his nose will be priceless. I really appreciate all of your help, but are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“I took the liberty of ordering dinner. I didn’t see room service come through on your credit card.”

“How did you track my credit card? Do you even know the meaning of the word privacy? Tell me!” I demand, giving him what I hope looks like a killer glare.

“Trade secrets. Hold that thought, princess,” Dereck says with a grin before opening the door for a woman delivering our food. “Thank you; I’ll take it from here,” he says, handing her awad of bills before wheeling the cart laden with food and a bottle of wine that’s nestled in an ice-filled silver bucket into the room.

Dereck gestures me to the table situated by the window. “Have a seat, Layla. We should talk, but I find it much more enjoyable to do it over a meal than standing in the hallway.”

“As long as you don't plan on acting like a caveman or try flipping me over your knee,” I say, taking the glass of wine Dereck has poured.

He tsks, and his mouth turns up in a smile. “Did I lead you to believe that was off the

table? Let me assure you. It’s not.”

My mouth opens, taking an effort to close it. “That’s not going to happen, papi!”

“Time will tell, princess,” he says, his deep steely gray eyes dancing with amusement.

I start to say something, but he quiets me with a hand in the air and a smile that sends my pulse racing. Damn that man! “A truce, at least until dinner is over, alright?”

“Fine!”

He rubs the short dark hairs of his goatee. “Are you fond of that word?”

“I don’t know,” I say cautiously, unable to tame the excitement his words and my curiosity bring. “Is that a trick question?”

“Hardly, but the use of it further would land you over the top of my thighs without any warning at all, whether you belong to me or not.”

“Are you always this arrogant? Tell me? Do you think I’m a possession? One to be bought and owned?” I ask, even as I clench my thighs.

Dereck takes a sip of his wine while watching me. “Not bought; owned perhaps. The reference is one meaning a trustingrelationship between a dominant and his submissive. There was no arrogance or offense intended.”

“Apology accepted. It’s just not how I roll,” I tell Dereck, taking another sip of my drink.

“That’s disappointing, and for the record, you’re wrong about that,” Dereck says, keeping my eyes captured with the intensity of his gaze.

He’s not looking for a response and continues talking like he hasn’t just said something that I’ve been pushing away almost my entire life or questioning again ever since I met this gorgeous man and heard his commanding voice. “I hope you like salmon. The chef was raving about it the last time we stayed,” Dereck tells me, lifting the dome covering my plate before placing it in front of me.

If he’s going to change subjects, far be it from me to start a conversation about my sexual inclinations. “It’s one of my favorites. I saw it listed on the menu with the jalapeno spiced coleslaw and would have ordered the same thing.” I take a bite, murmuring my appreciation for the delicious combination. “Perfect in every way.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Dereck says, watching me with those steely grays before taking a bite of his own.

He’s clearly not going to resurface the conversation, although now I’m dying for him to do just that. Fine, we’ll play his silly games, but he still hasn’t even told me how he found me, and I’m dying to know. I put my fork down with an unintended clatter. “Okay, papi. You need to come clean because this suspense is killing me. How did you find me or even know R.J. found the hotel for that matter?”

His lip quirks upward. “I was serious. Credit card.”

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