Page 78 of Auctioned to the Billionaire Stalker

He grinned at me, but the look on his face was nervous, vulnerable, and I knew he was worried about his plans.

“We’ll have a great time,” I assured him.

Twenty minutes later, I was putting on one final touch of lipstick, almost ready to walk out the door, when he knocked on the door jamb.

I looked up to see him watching me. “I never got around to giving you this.” His eyes swept over me. “And,” he rubbed the back of his neck as he handed me a distinctive blue gift bag from Tiffany’s, “I think these will look great with what you’re wearing.”

I tried to keep my mouth from falling open at the sight of the bag. I walked over to him and grabbed his free hand. “You don’t have to give me things like this. I’m not used to having these sorts of things, and I’m not the type of girl who needsbeautiful jewelry to feel appreciated. Just you working to make plans for a date is so sweet, so romantic…”

He reached up, staring into my eyes, and put a finger gently over my lips. “I want you to have these. You might not be the type of woman who expects them. But that just makes me want to give them to you more. Please. Let me spoil you a little.”

I smiled, but still felt uncomfortable inside. It felt a little too close to a payment for the sex we’d just had. Even though I knew he’d bought the jewelry before that. I took the bag from him and looked inside.

There were four individually wrapped boxes in the bag. I looked up at him, my eyes wide. “My lord, Jack. What did you do?”

He laughed. “Nothing I didn’t want to do.” I must’ve been taking too long, because he reached in and pulled out the first box, a large, flat square. I opened it and gasped when I saw the necklace, a circular pendant of diamonds with gold and platinum accents.

“It’s so beautiful,” I breathed. “Put it on me?” I turned and lifted my long, heavy hair off my shoulders. I watched him in the mirror as he fastened the clasp and the pendant fell to the perfect point on my chest, just above my cleavage.

“It’s from the sixteen stone collection,” he said, opening another flat square box and pulling out a matching bangle bracelet. He slid it over my hand, and I had to admit it looked perfect on my wrist. I admired it while he opened another box.

“You’re going too fast,” I protested.

“We have to get out of here,” he laughed. “We’re already late, but they’re holding all my plans for me.” He opened what looked like a ring box. With shaking hands, I opened it to reveal a gorgeous matching ring with diamonds and the same gold and platinum accents.

“This is too much,” I said, slipping the ring on and holding it up to the light to admire it. I was starting to feel like a princess in my new dress and sky-high heels, my Tiffanyjewelry, all on top of having an incredibly attentive lover for the first time in my life.

And was it okay that I was kind of obsessed with the size of his dick? I was afraid Jack Lancaster had already ruined me for any and all men that would come after him when our three months were up. And it had only been a few days.

“Here. This is the last one.” He had opened the last box to reveal matching earrings. I reached for them, already taking out my other pair, a nice set Madeline had bought for me, to put the designer jewelry in.

I stepped back to look at myself. I did a little twirl for him. “What do you think?”

He stared at me without talking for so long, I was afraid he didn’t like something. But finally he cleared his throat and answered. “I think,” he said slowly, “that you’re the most stunning woman in the world, and I’m the luckiest bastard on the planet to get to go out with you tonight.”

I blushed. “You make me feel beautiful.”

“Good.” He gave me a rare smile, flecks of blue, green, and gray making his hazel eyes look lighter than usual tonight. He glanced at his watch. “Let’s go.”

I grabbed for my clutch and followed him out of the condo.

I could only guess what Jack had in store for us this evening.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Jack

I was holding her hand.I was holding her hand!I stared down at our intertwined fingers in awe, startled by two things. First, Iwantedto hold her hand. I had been the one to instigate the contact, not her. And second? If it was possible, it made me feel even more possessive of her. I wanted to care for her, protect her, keep her.

“Where are we going?” she asked, her eyes twinkling with delight.

“You’ll see,” I said, walking casually down the cobblestone street in Savannah, just enjoying being with her as we walked under huge old oak trees, Spanish moss thick in their branches. We walked down to the corner and stood by a gas light, flame flickering with the evening breezes coming in off the river.

Before I could look at my watch, I heard the clopping of horse’s hooves approaching and felt my shoulders relax. Everything was going as planned.

A shiny, white hansom cab pulled up beside us.

“Mr. Lancaster?” the driver asked.