"Done what?"
"Bought women."
Straight to the point. I like that.
"I haven't," I say honestly. "You're my first acquisition."
Her head snaps toward me. "What?"
"I attend the auctions because I'm expected to. But I've never bid before tonight."
"Why not?"
"I never wanted to."
"And tonight you did."
"Yes."
"Why?"
I consider the question. Consider lying. Consider giving her some explanation that makes sense.
But what's the point?
"I don't know," I tell her.
And it's the truth.
I don't know why I bid two million dollars on a woman I'd never met.
Don't know why seeing her on that stage felt like I had to have her.
Don't know why the thought of someone else owning her made me want to burn the whole mansion down.
I just know that she's mine now.
And I'm not letting go.
She's staring at me. Searching my face for something.
A lie, maybe. Or the truth.
"You're lying," she says finally.
"I'm not."
"You spent two million dollars on me. You had a reason."
"I wanted you."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
Her jaw clenches. "That's not good enough."
"It's the only answer I have."
