Liam breaks the kiss, and I ask the question that hurts my heart the most. “What if you don’t win?” I can’t bring myself to think of the possible outcomes. All twelve of them.
How can it be anyone but him?
“I don’t want you to worry about that now.” He holds me by the chin. “A lot can happen between now and then. You could fall in love with someone who isn’t me.”
A contemptuous blue gaze invades my mind, unwelcome and unwanted.
“You’re the one I want.”
“I’m the one you’re comfortable with. You haven’t had the chance to get to know my brothers.”
I narrow my eyes. “Are you having second thoughts about winning the auction?”
“No.” His thumb plays on my lower lip. “But if I’m not who you want by the time the auction arrives, then I won’t compete to win.”
“Am I not worth fighting for?”
“You are, my sweet girl.” He pulls away and sits at the edge of the bed. “But your happiness is worth more to me than winning.”
I sit up, tugging the sheet to the top of my breasts, suddenly unsure and shy. He didn’t take my virginity last night, but he might as well have. He stole a piece of my soul I’ll never get back. “I want it to be you, Liam.”
“If you still feel that way eleven months from now, I’ll do everything in my power to ensure it’s me.” He stands and takes a step forward, keeping his back to me. “I need to shower and dress. You should do the same. Heath will be here in an hour.”
He disappears into the bathroom and shuts the door, and it’s like a wall coming down between us all over again.
Chapter Eleven
Dressed in a black chiffon skirt and a sleeveless top, I perch on the lounge in the main sitting room. By all appearances, I’m prepared to face the day, makeup flawless and hair silky smooth. Anyone sending a cursory glance my way would think I was ready for this meeting with the man who will reign over me in the coming weeks.
But I’m not.
“Stop your fidgeting, my sweet girl.” Liam gently scolds me from his chair.
Only then do I realize the rhythmic bounce of my foot, one crossed over the other. I cease the nervous movement just as Selma appears in the archway.
“Chancellor, Mr. Bordeaux is here to see you.”
Liam nods. “Send him in.”
She steps out of view, and the man I remember from the dinner and medical exam takes her place. He’s taller than Sebastian, but a few inches shy of Liam’s six-foot frame. His expensive black suit, meticulously pressed, doesn’t have a wrinkle in sight. There’s an undeniable seriousness about him…and a coldness that makes me shiver.
His hazel eyes zero in on me. “My queen.”
I dip my head. “I’m unsure of how I should address you.”
“Mr. Bordeaux will do.” He waltzes into the sitting room and settles next to me on the lounge.
Liam hasn’t moved an inch. He’s as stoic as the man next to me.
“I assume the chancellor informed you of the reason behind this visit?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, Mr. Bordeaux,” he corrects, mouth sloping into a frown. “And I expect you on your knees when you greet me in the future.” He shoots Liam an irritated glance. “In fact, she should be in that position now.”
His words raise my hackles, and before I attempt to form a response, Liam cuts in.
“You don’t have that kind of authority in this house.”
“Soon enough, my queen.” Heath removes a ribbon of measuring tape from his pocket. “I need to take your measurements.” He gestures to the top of my head, and I remain still as he wraps the tape around my skull.
But I’m quaking on the inside and trying to hold it together. In a few days, Liam won’t be around to protect me from this man.
“Does my queen have any design requests?” he asks as he marks the measurements in a black portfolio.
“Your queen does not.” I can’t help it—the snarky edge sneaks into my tone before I can stop it, and I sense Liam’s sigh rather than hear it. The displeased pull of Heath’s dark brows sends dread through me, and I rush to temper my tone. “But thank you for giving me the option.”
He shuts the portfolio with a decisive snap. “Chancellor, I believe you’ve been lax in handling Miss Van Buren.”
Liam hasn’t moved from his position. Sitting to my right, chin in hand, he watches with hooded eyes that hide any hint of what he’s thinking. “I’ve handled her just fine.”
“Her attitude is unacceptable.”
“We have differing views on what’s acceptable.”
Heath stands with a scowl. “She needs a training session in the dungeon.”
“That won’t happen while she’s in my house.”
Heath swivels his attention between the chancellor and me, jaw rigid and cold, hazel eyes squinting with frustration. “That will be the first thing she receives when she comes to mine.” He strides out of the sitting room, and when the front door of the penthouse slams upon his exit, I startle.