The Takeover (The Miles High Club #2)(89)

“Two hundred thousand,” Elliot says calmly.

My eyes widen . . . what the fuck?

“Two fifty,” an older man replies.

Elliot glares at his competition. “Three fifty,” he fires back.

Holy shit . . . this is a real art auction, the kind you see on cable.

“Three seventy,” a woman calls.

Elliot rolls his eyes—another bidder. Tristan’s eyes dance with delight as he looks on.

Christopher leans in and whispers something to Elliot. He nods once, as if understanding. “Half a million,” Elliot announces.

The room falls silent.

The older man narrows his eyes. “Seven fifty.”

Elliot clenches his jaw in anger.

Tristan begins to chuckle. “It’s on,” he whispers.

“One million dollars,” Elliot fires back.

“One point one,” the man fires back.

“Fuck,” Elliot whispers.

Christopher leans in and says something to Elliot. He seems to think for a moment.

He’s telling him what to bid. It seems that Christopher has a lot of pull in what Elliot does.

“Do we have another bid?” the auctioneer asks. “One point one is our last call.”

“One point four,” Elliot snaps.

The crowd lets out an audible gasp.

Elliot’s jaw tilts to the sky in satisfaction, and Tristan smiles broadly.

I look among the Miles brothers. These men are wealthy beyond measure. They don’t seem rattled at all—$1.4 million for a fucking painting . . . what the hell?

“One million four hundred and ten thousand dollars,” the other bidder replies.

“One point five,” Elliot fires back.

The man shakes his head. “I’m out.”

The auctioneer turns to the woman. She shakes her head. “I’m out too.”

The crowd waits and looks around.

“Do we have any more offers?” the auctioneer asks.

“One point five once . . . twice . . . three times. Last call.” He brings down his hammer. “Sold, to the man in the navy jacket, Elliot Miles.”

Elliot laughs in delight, and Tristan and Christopher shake his hand in congratulations. He looks up and around the room. “Where did she go?” he asks.

“Who?” Tristan frowns.

“The blonde,” he replies as he scans the room. “She was right here.”

“She left,” I whisper. “As soon as you bid your last bid, she left. I saw her walk out the front doors.”

Elliot turns and storms toward the door.

“Excuse me, sir,” the auctioneer calls after him. “We need details.”

“Go find her,” he says to his brothers.

Christopher marches out the front door to look for her as Elliot talks to the auctioneer. Tristan goes looking for her too.

I smile as I watch. . . I just got a firsthand look at how the Miles boys operate.

They see something they want, and they go after it hard.

Impressive.

I straighten Tristan’s tie as he looks down at me. It’s Monday morning, and I don’t want this weekend to end.

“There.” I dust off his shoulders as I pretend to be happy about us parting. “You look extra handsome today.”

He smiles softly down at me. “You know, I could get used to this sweet version of Claire.”

“Extra handsome . . . for a bastard, I mean.”

He smirks. “More your style.”

We kiss, his tongue gently stroking mine. We linger over each other’s lips for an extended time, and I run my fingers through his hair. We’ve had the most wonderful weekend. We went out after the auction last night, and I laughed and laughed with his brothers. They’re as funny and smart as Tristan is. “When will I see you?” I whisper.

“Are you getting needy, Anderson?”

I smile. “A little.”

“About fucking time.” He pushes the hair back from my face as he stares down at me. “Tonight,” he replies.

“Tonight?” I stare at him. “You don’t have to come tonight. We have to ease the kids into this, and I know you hate the couch.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m coming tonight. I won’t stay over.”

“Okay, but remember, we’re just friends at this stage to them.” I hunch up my shoulders. “I really need them to be okay with this, Tris.”

“They will be.”

“Harry . . .” I wince.

“Is a nightmare,” Tristan replies.

I widen my eyes. “Stop that. I’m allowed to call him a nightmare; you are not. Just like I’m allowed to call you a nightmare, and they are not.”

He rolls his eyes. “However you put it. I’ll see you tonight. Let’s go out for dinner. The five of us.”

“Really?” I frown. “That’s very Brady Bunch.”

He grabs my behind and brings me closer to his pelvis. I can feel a hint of hardness in his trousers. “Does the guy fuck the mother in the bathroom of the restaurant on The Brady Bunch?”

I giggle. “Surely not. And don’t get any ideas. That is not happening. My children will never know that we have sex. Like ever.”

He gives me a sexy wink.