Page 64 of Blacklist

“$5000,” I call out.

Heads swing my direction. Kai is momentarily gobsmacked. I don’t miss how Adair flinches when she realizes I’m the bidder.

But I didn’t do it for her.

No one challenges my bid, although a few assholes yell jokes about how I’m bidding all wrong. That’s not how I see it.

“Are these animals available for adoption?” I asked Poppy after the bidding moves to the next animal.

“Yes,” she says, her eyebrows knitting together. “But—”

“I’ll double that bid if you can arrange for them to have his paperwork ready tomorrow morning.”

“You don’t have to actually take him home,” she reminds me.

“For ten thousand bucks, I’d rather have a dog than a picture.”

“You old softy,” Luca mutters so only I can hear.

When Adair returns to the table, she accepts praise from everyone as though she fucking sold the dog. In a way, she did, but it’s not because she’s some beautiful soul. She keeps her eyes carefully from mine. She knows why I did it.

“Sterling is adopting Zeus,” Poppy announces.

“I was there.” The chill in her voice instantly diminishes the mood at the table.

“No, he’s actually adopting him.” Poppy claps her hands together as though I’ve made her night.

Adair’s mouth hangs open for a second before she clamps it shut. She doesn’t recover before the auction ends and the evening progresses on to the dancing portion. Yet another course in the endless buffet of tonight’s fuckery.

“You don’t look pleased,” I say to her.

“It seems like you have something to prove,” she says.

“That I love animals?” I offer.

A muscle ticks in her jaw. “I’m sure that’s it.”

“Why don’t you and I dance? I’ll explain why I adopted the dog.” I stand up and extend a hand across the table. All our companions watch us, waiting to see how she’ll respond. She dares a look at Malcolm and I catch him nod his head slightly.

He’s given her marching orders. I’m to be kept happy—and these days, Adair always does what she’s told. She huffs as she stands and then stomps to the dance floor. I catch her before she reaches it, wrapping a hand around her waist and spinning her into my arms. My other hand closes over hers. It’s delicate, her skin cool and soothing to the touch. Adair stares at our clasped hands for a moment as if trying to recall some long-forgotten memory. My thumb brushes over hers instinctively. She doesn’t resist as we move seamlessly into a waltz.

“I didn’t know you could dance,” she comments.

My hand flattens on the small of her back, holding her in place—close enough to smell the magnolia in her perfume, far enough to resist its temptation. It’s the little things about her that press on my memories. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

“Like where you’re going to keep a dog?” she asks. “Sounds like you’re busy running off between Nashville and London and who knows where else.”

“Actually,” I say, leading her around an older couple who isn’t keeping pace to the music, “I just bought a place at Twelve and South.”

The color drains from her face, but she doesn’t respond.

“I thought Zeus looked like good company,” I add.

“If you think that you’re going to adopt that dog just to spite me,” she starts.

“I adopted the dog because no one wanted it.” My voice is low and laced with contempt. She flinches but recovers immediately.

“You’re assuming that.” There’s still nothing she hates more than that, it seems.