“Yes, please!” She smiles sassily, and for a split second, I imagine her as she would have been at sixteen: full of bratty confidence, impossible to say no to. I squash the thought. Daisy’s not my stepsister anymore. She’s just Daisy: a beautiful, lush girl with a month of her life bought and paid for.
I lead her through the kitchen—high-gloss, navy blue, all Sub-Zero and Wolf appliances—and she runs a finger down the countertop, then opens the fridge, laughing at the rows of neatly stacked bottles. “Do you even cook?” she says.
“Not really,” I admit, “although I do have a housekeeper who cooks for me.” Then, I let her peek into the next room: a home office bigger than most condos, the desk littered with prototype electronics and 3-D printed junk from the Justify AI team. She picks up a little model of a pouncing cat, looks at it, then at me. “Did you make this?” she asks.
“Kind of. It was a joke. My engineer’s obsessed with cats.”
She sets it down gently. “It’s cute. I like it.”
We move on, and she finds the wet bar, the climate-controlled wine cellar, and the two-story glass wall that leads to the most expensive mistake I’ve ever made: the indoor dunk pool.
She stops dead at the door, peering into the blue-lit cube. “Is that an actual swimming pool attached to the penthouse?”
“It’s a plunge pool, yes,” I say with a wry smile. “For exercise. Or for fun.” I can’t help adding, “It’s the only one like it in the city.”
She opens the glass door and walks in, toes on the smooth stone. The air’s humid despite the night air, and her eyes widen. “Can I try it?”
“Now?” I check my watch, but I have no plans.
She looks over her shoulder, that beautiful smile blooming again. “You bought me, didn’t you? You must have time if you want to make use of the month we have together.”
There’s a beat where the words hang there—raw, obvious, unfixable.
“Yes,” I say. “I bought you for a month, sweetheart. For twenty million dollars.”
She smiles sweetly again, pink lips curving. “I must be something special.”
“You are,” I say, and she smiles again, full of teasing and mirth.
Daisy puts a toe in the water, and giggles. “Oh my god, it’s warm!” She dips a little further, hips swaying, and then she does something unexpected. She drops the fur coat, and to my surprise, the woman’s completely nude beneath the jacket.
The woman smiles coyly at me.
“They didn’t give me time to put anything on after the auction, Hunter,” she whispers while cupping those giant breasts. “I had to grab my coat and go.”
I can’t speak. For a moment I watch her ass as if I’ve never seen an ass before, even though I could draw every dimple from memory. Her Double D’s sway, that slit still moistly pink from the events of earlier tonight.
Daisy looks back at me. “So do you want to?” she asks, voice throaty. “I think you do—” Her gaze flickers downward, at my crotch, then away.
I shake my head even if it’s costing every inch of my self-control not to throw her to the deck floor and enter her with a powerful thrust. “Nothing happens unless you want it. I mean that.” I set my jaw, try to sound like the kind of man who wouldn’t force a girl to do anything. “You get a month here, with me. If you want more, you ask. If not, you just hang out. You’re not aprisoner, Daisy, and I won’t force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
She processes that, running her foot along the surface of the water. “I get it,” she says, and her voice is softer. “But is that how these auctions generally work?”
I shake my head.
“No,” I grind out. “Most girls stay at Sanctum. They never go to a man’s real home, nor do they have any choice about what happens to them physically. Their virginities are likely claimed within the hour of an auction ending, if not sooner. But you’re not every girl, Daisy. You’re special, and I don’t want to put you through the wringer.”
My words are true, but I’m lying by omission because of course, Daisy is actually my sexy little stepsister Tara. I’m taking advantage of her because our relationship would never fly in real life. But given Tara’s amnesia, I’m not above being a complete asshole and keeping her to myself while she can’t remember anything. Obviously, I’m going to hell.
But Daisy merely leaves the pool and pads back to me, dripping from the knees down. Her nipples are hard and pink, her skin beaded with droplets, and she stops so close I can see each one. Her face is tilted up, open and vulnerable.
“You look like you want to say something,” she murmurs.
I almost laugh. I want to sayeverything. Again, I want to confess that I know who she really is, that I’m the reason she’s standing here, nude and luscious, with a new name and a new life. I want to admit that I’ve spent every hour since her accident trying to convince myself this is for her own good, that I’m protectingher from the world outside Sanctum. That I’m not, in fact, a monster.
But I don’t say any of it. Instead, I reach out and tuck a strand of golden hair behind her ear. My hand shakes, just a little, and I hope she doesn’t see.
“You’re very brave, Daisy,” I tell her.
