The Pawn (Endgame #1)(22)

The low sound he makes, almost a growl, snaps me out of the trance.

I pull the silk fabric over me, feeling exposed, abraded. I wasn’t willing to examine the idea of Gabriel Miller at the auction, even though I knew he would come. He enjoys seeing me humiliated, the daughter of his enemy. It isn’t enough to watch my father’s fall.

He wants to see mine too.

“Damon is downstairs, holding court,” he says. “Is she ready?”

Candy glances back at him, looking amused. “Of course. I was just telling her how to control whoever buys her.”

His voice is bland. “Do you think he’ll swing that way?”

She laughs. “Control isn’t kink, darling. It’s a way of life.”

The way he looks at her isn’t sexual, though. There’s something like respect in his eyes. Maybe it’s only there because she’s with Ivan Tabakov, but I don’t think so. She has a way of earning it herself.

The way she leans close to me is almost regal. Her lips by my ear, she whispers, “All you have to give them is your body. Your mind, your soul—that’s your leverage.”

That’s my ball of string, I realize. A lifeline, so I can find my way out of the maze at the end. She was playful before but dead serious at the end. Because this is life or death, my ability to move on from this. It could devastate me. It could break me.

Then she’s sweeping out of the room with a little wave for Gabriel.

We’re alone.

I’m insanely focused on the fact that there’s only a piece of silk protecting my body from him. So thin, so vital. He doesn’t stare at my body. His gaze meets mine, but I feel more vulnerable this way. He sees every doubt, every fear. “Did you touch yourself?” he asks, almost mildly.

Heat rushes to my face, and I know I’ll be bright red. “That’s none of your business.”

He studies me, thoughtful. “I think you did, little virgin. I think you touched your hard little clit and made yourself come, your eyes squeezed shut in the dark.”

I hate how well he can read me. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know I could make you come in two minutes.”

A step back, my calves bumping the small chair where I sat. “You wouldn’t.”

“No, but you wish I would.”

“I hate you.”

A low laugh. “Do you really think you can control the man?”

My fists tighten in the silk, covering my breasts. “Better than the other way around.”

“Would it be so bad?” he asks thoughtfully. “Giving up control for a month? Letting someone else guide you? Letting someone teach you?”

Part of me yearns for that, but not with a stranger. Not for money. “I don’t care what happens to me at night. They can touch me, teach me, whatever they want. That won’t really be me.”

He walks to the window, looking at the city’s skyline. There are people working late in those offices, climbing the corporate ladder, sleeves rolled up for the paycheck. A few of those penthouses are empty, their occupants downstairs, waiting to bid on me.

Without turning he murmurs, “What makes you think it’s only at night?”

I stare at him, unaccountably surprised. I hadn’t really reasoned it out loud or I might have guessed the obvious. My knowledge of sex is so limited that I only imagine it at night. That goes doubly so for a strange old man. Uncertainty vibrates through me. “He’d want me during the day?”

Gabriel turns back, his eyes fierce. “The auction is for a month, Avery. Your days, your nights, your everything. He will own you.”

A shudder squeezes my body. I’m starting to understand what Candy meant about the push. His intensity, his demands. And what would be the pull? My acquiescence. No, she told me not to give in. Innocence and fragility and grace.

I lift my chin, meeting his eyes. “I have to take care of my father. Someone has to feed him, to wash him. Several times a day.”

Gabriel turns back to the window. “The buyer will pay for his care.”

“I can’t—” My voice breaks, and I suck in a steadying breath. I can’t afford to pay for a full-time nurse for a month, not after paying the tax bill and Damon’s percentage. What will we eat when it’s over?

“He’ll pay for his care,” he says, his tone hard. “On top of the auction amount.”

I take a step forward, strangely drawn to him. “Why would he do that?”

A large shoulder lifts. “The men down there have more money than they know what to do with. Whoever buys you, use him. Take what you need from him.”

In the window I can see his reflection, the bold features of his face. But I can’t read him. I could never read him. Is that part of the push Candy told me about? Or is that just the impenetrable mystery of Gabriel Miller? “Why are you helping me?”

“I’m not your friend,” he says gently.

He’s my enemy. When we’re alone, it’s easy to forget that. In a few minutes we’ll be downstairs with the wealthiest men in the city, maybe even the state. Men who would purchase me like an object. Men who Gabriel taught a lesson by ruining my father.

“Fifteen minutes,” he says before leaving the room.





Chapter Twelve