“This way.” Nassor gestured for her to enter the limo he’d rented for the week. She slid inside, and he followed her, closing the door behind them.
With a nod of his head, the driver lifted the partition and turned on the ignition.
Soon, they drove away from the place where he’d just bought time with this amazing virgin for a whole month. He sat across from her, needing to see the reactions on her face.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“I have a penthouse in town. Thought we could grab something to eat.”
“Sounds good. I had to starve all day to get myself into this thing,” she said, pointing at the corset. “I bet you never had to worry about impressing a room full of women,” she said, a trace of irony in her voice.
“I participated in a couple of bachelor auctions back in the day,” he said, hiding the fact that both times they were able to fund a good amount of money to help a children’s hospital in his country. “But sex wasn’t in the mix.”
She lifted her chin. “How much would you have charged?”
A chuckle floated up his throat. Back home, no one talked to him like this—so freely, without weighing the repercussions. The women from his social circle, the ones raised to marry a man like him, certainly wouldn’t dream to be bold or confrontational.
“Tough question. Maybe you’ll be able to answer once you’ve tried the goods.”
She blushed. Interesting. His pulse spiked. Besides her straight shoulders and the confident glint in her eyes, Izzy blushed. Hmmm. “Will you trust my judgment? I’m not sure our deal entails my honesty.”
“I’ll trust my skills. You’re an interesting woman, Izzy. Is it short for Isobel?”
“Isabela.”
“Why don’t you go by Isabela?” The feminine name suited her lush form and sexy eyes.
“I prefer Izzy.” She drummed her fingers on her chest, visibly uncomfortable. “Why did you bid on me? I doubt you need to pay to bed a woman.”
“Or a virgin.”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and shifted in the seat. “However you want to call it. You’re easy on the eyes and clearly have lots of money.”
“Are you trying to make me change my mind?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. According to the rules, even if he returned her now—intact—he’d still have to pay in full. His gut clenched. Not that he had any plans of returning her.
“No,” she answered quickly. “Just curious.”
“Well, pretty soon I’ll take on a lot of responsibilities. Can’t get much into it without involving other people. I see this little adventure as a send-off before I start my new job,” he said. If he mentioned he was about to become a king, she could use that information against him. Sure, they’d signed a confidentiality agreement, but if she broke it, she’d bring him a headache. Besides, wouldn’t it be more liberating to act as an impulsive man than a dreading king-to-be?
One night. Even though he had her for a month and asked her if she could fly with him, he planned on spending the night with her and seeing where it led. Hopefully, one night would suffice. Then, he’d fly back to his country the next day, and back to the life he was supposed to live. Bile rose up his throat and he cleared it, resolute. The shunned bastard had become a king, and he had a lot of people to make it up to.
She whistled. “New job. You make it seem like you’re an accomplished undercover agent.”
“Would that make me more appealing?”
She smiled. “Depends on what side you’re on.”
He scooted back on his seat, taking a good look at the impressive woman in front of him. Killer sex appeal and snark made her completely irresistible. His gaze slid from her face to her neck, to the swell of her generous breasts, strolling down to her hips. In his culture, they appreciated women with child-bearing hips.
A stir of lust rushed through him. When his eyes found hers again, he didn’t miss the spark of interest in her eyes. A wave of excitement washed through him, and he wished they were already in his penthouse hotel suite, naked. Easy, man. She’s a virgin.
The limo came to a halt, and the driver opened the door. He’d instructed him to park inside the underground garage, eager to avoid any distractions. Thankfully, the paparazzi hadn’t caught wind of his presence yet. Of course, he wasn’t famous in the United States, but if people from his country recognized him, anyone with a brain would want to take a picture for sale. Izzy was his dirty secret.
He got out of the car and stretched his hand to help her out. She stood next to him, a zingy energy passing between them. His palm burned from the touch, from the mere contact with her flesh. He motioned for her to enter the elevator and followed her inside.
“Are you from Nevada?” he asked, remembering how many girls traveled from other states for the chance at the auction.
“Born in Brazil. My father was a missionary who adopted me when I was ten and brought me to the States.” She shrugged.
