Driven(book one)(10)

“Oh—okay,” disappointment fills my voice as I begin to worry again.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure it is one of the old guys from the board—” he stops, realizing he’s just implied that those are the only men willing to bid on me. He continues cautiously, knowing full well that I’m in bitch-mode right now. “You know what I meant, Ry. They all love you! They’ll do anything to support you.” He eyes me carefully and realizes he should stop while he is ahead.

I sigh loudly, letting it go with the realization that I’m uber-sensitive right now. I take note that most of the participants have cleared out of the backstage area. “Well, my friend, I should be getting back to the soiree.” I stand, smoothing my dress down and wincing as my feet bunch back down into my shoes. “I, for one, am more than done with my duties for the evening. I’m ready to go home and devour that chocolate and wine in the comfort of my fluffy robe and comfy couch.”

“You don’t want to wait and see what the tally is for the night?” he asks, rising from the seat to follow behind me.

We walk past the alcove that Donavan and I had occupied earlier, and I blush, keeping my head down so that Dane won’t question me. “I asked Stella to text me later when it’s added up.” I push open the door to enter the party again. “I don’t need to be here for that—,” I falter as I walk through the door and see Donavan leaning a shoulder casually against the wall, surveying the crowd. He’s a man who is obviously at ease with who he is, regardless of his surroundings. He exudes an aura of raw power mixed with something deeper, something darker that I can’t seem to put my finger on. Rogue. Rebel. Reckless. All three descriptions flash through my head for despite this man’s refined look, he screams definite trouble.

Dane bumps into me from behind as I stop abruptly when Donavan’s scanning eyes connect with mine. “Rylee—” Dane complains until he realizes why I’ve stopped. “Well, shit, if it isn’t Mr. Brooding. What’s going on here, Ry?”

I roll my eyes at the thought of Donavan’s stupid bet. “Arrogance run amuck,” I mutter to him. “I have to take care of something.” I toss over my shoulder, “Be right back.”

I stalk toward Donavan, more than aware that his eyes track my every movement and at the same time annoyed at having to deal with this now. Our banter has been an amusing way to pass the evening’s time, running the gamut of arousing at some points to down right frustrating at others, but the night’s over and I’m ready to go home. Game over. He pushes his shoulder off the wall, straightening the long length of his lean body as I walk toward him. The corners of his mouth turn up slightly as he attempts to gauge my mood.

I reach him and hold up a hand to stop him before he even begins to speak. “Look, Ace, I’m tired and in a really shitty mood right now. It’s time for me to call it a night—”

“And just when I was going to offer to take you to places you didn’t even know existed before,” he says dryly with just a ghost of a smile and an arch of an eyebrow. “You don’t know what you’re missing, sweetheart.”

I snort loudly, all propriety out the window. “You’re f*cking kidding me, right? You actually get women with lines like that?”

“I’m wounded,” he smirks, his eyes full of humor as he holds his hand to his heart in false pain. “You’d be surprised what my mouth gets with those lines.”

I just stare at him. The man has absolutely no humility. “I don’t have time for your childish games right now. I just had to endure humiliation beyond my worst nightmare, and I’m more pissed off than you can imagine. I especially don’t want to deal with you right now.”

If he is shocked at my rant, he hides it well, for his face remains impassive except for the muscle pulsing with his clenched jaw. “I do love a woman who tells it like it is,” he murmurs quietly to himself.

I place my hands on my hips and continue, “So I’m going home in about ten minutes. Night’s over. I win our idiotic bet, so you better get your check and fill it out because you’re going home with lighter pockets tonight.”

His lips quirk up in an amused smirk. “Twenty-five thousand lighter, in fact,” he deadpans.

“No, we agreed on twen—” I stop as a smile spreads across his lips, realization slowly dawning on me. Oh f*ck! He bid on me. Not only did he bid on me, but he bid on me and won. He officially has a date with me.

I grit my teeth and raise my head toward the ceiling, inhaling slowly, trying to calm myself. “No—uh-uh. This is bullshit and you know it!” I glare at him as he starts to speak. “That wasn’t the deal. I didn’t agree to this!” I’m flustered and exasperated, so furious that I’m beyond reason.

“A bet’s a bet, Ryles.”

“It’s Rylee, you *!” I spit at him. Who the hell does he think he is? First he buys me and then he thinks he can give me a nickname? I know that the irrational female in me has reared her Medusa-like head, but I really don’t care at this point.

“Last time I checked, sweetheart, my name wasn’t Ace,” he retorts with some justification. The rasp of his voice grates over me like sandpaper. He casually leans back against the wall, as if this is a conversation he has every day.