At Any Price(70)

“I’m glad.”

“Thank you. I really didn’t mean to call you last night.”

His expression grew serious. “I’m glad you did anyway.”

“Thanks, too, for getting the car.” He only smiled in reply.

I stepped into the room, glancing around. The outer shell of the building might have been vintage, from the 1920s, but the inside was all modern—stainless steel kitchen appliances with dark granite counters and recessed lighting. Gorgeous crown molding. Beyond the main kitchen and sitting room, a doorway opened into what looked like a sizeable bedroom. It was, however, completely vacant.

His phone chimed. He checked it but tucked it back into his pocket. I quirked a brow at him. “Shouldn’t you be ensconced in your office behind your desk, muttering the twelve steps for workaholics anonymous, right now?”

He grinned. “Even workaholics take a lunch break once every blue moon.”

I moved up beside him and shared his view out the window. “Nice place,” I said. “Yours?”

“Yeah.” Because of course it was. “Recent acquisition. Investment property.”

“And the apartment is vacant because…?”

“It’s between renters.” He tossed a glance at me and then out the window with a casual shrug. “I have a management company handle my properties for me. But I have someone in mind for this location.”

He turned back to me, shooting me a meaningful look, implying that I was the “someone in mind.” His implication hit me like a balled fist. I took a shaky breath and turned away from him so he wouldn’t see the look on my face.

But I couldn’t hide my reaction for long because Adam was as sharp as a razor.

“What’s wrong, Emilia?”

My jaw set but I didn’t turn back to him. “I hope you don’t mean me.”

He paused. “And if I did?”

I turned around and faced him. “I can’t afford the rent you must be asking.”

“You can now.”

I breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly. A tiny voice in the back of my head—the voice of calm rationality—told me that he was doing a kind deed. He was helping me out. He was—

No. Just no.

My spine stiffened and sudden tension arced between us. “Is this the part where you hand me a roll of hundreds and tell me to go out and buy something pretty?”

His features tightened, almost imperceptibly. “I was going to offer it to you at the rent you’re currently paying for your studio. This place is safer than your neighborhood. It would put my mind at ease.”

“That’s impossible. You’d take a huge loss on it.”

He looked away. “I don’t care about the profit right now.” His phone chimed again. He reached for his pocket and froze when he saw the look on my face. His expression was grim when he snatched the damned thing and looked at it. This time, he took the time to reply by text.

I folded my arms over my chest and started to pace.

“Emilia—just consider—”

I turned on him, my shoulders and back so stiff I almost wrenched them with the motion. “I can’t live here. You know it as well as I do.”

“I do?”

“I can’t live in your apartment because of what happens after we…” and my voice died out as our gazes clashed. His features chilled. He jammed a fist into his pocket and his eyes flew to the window again.

I couldn’t help but hear Heath’s words spoken to me a few days before. What is he buying with all of these expensive gifts? He wants more than one night…

“Adam, what are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“I’d say I suspect you’re trying to set me up in a fuck pad but we aren’t fucking. So that’s out.”

“And if I said I wanted to help you out, would you believe me or would you twist it into something it isn’t?”

I shook my head, my fists clenched. “I don’t need to be saved. I can save myself.”

“Oh, that’s right,” he said quietly, walking toward me, watching me with stony eyes. “That’s what this whole auction was about. You ‘saving’ yourself.”

I stared into his face as he came to a stop inches from me. I could smell him. That warm, male body of his that smelled of ocean breezes. I swallowed, wishing I could clamp my own nostrils shut. Even when I was annoyed with him, he still affected me like no one else ever had.

“If indeed you ever intend to take the auction seriously—”

He shook his head. “And that three hundred and seventy-five thousand in your bank account means, what? I’ve been paying for the pleasure of your company these past three weeks?”