The One He Dismissed Became The One He Died For novel Chapter 162

If Yvonne saw them...

Claire trembled with anxiety, her toes curling instinctively. She gripped his shirt tightly. "No, not here."

"Scared?" Miles murmured, his voice husky. He didn't stop, trailing kisses all the way to her ear.

"Afraid your little college boy will see?"

"Of course not," Claire gasped, her eyes flushing under the onslaught of his touch. "You're bullying me."

Miles let out a low, breathless laugh.

"Claire, you sat right in front of me with another man, acting all cozy. Between the two of us, who is really doing the bullying here?"

Despite his words, he hooked a finger through the blinds' cord and pulled sharply. The suite was instantly plunged into dim shadows.

Ultimately, he couldn't bear to see her genuinely terrified.

Claire rested her head against his chest, her breaths coming in soft, ragged pants.

Suddenly, the sharp click-clack of high heels echoed from the hallway, drawing closer.

"Claire Jenner?!" Yvonne's furious, piercing voice rang out through the corridor.

Unsure of which VIP room Claire was in, she had been throwing open every door along the way.

She was absolutely determined to find out if the mysterious bidder who had just thrown millions at Claire was her uncle, Miles Zimmerman.

Claire went rigid, her heart leaping into her throat.

Sensing her panic, Miles gently brushed his thumb across her lower lip.

"Why the fear? You're going to be her aunt soon enough."

Aunt?

The word struck a nerve, and Claire's eyes darkened.

Suppressed emotions surged within her. She was suddenly tempted to lay all her cards on the table and confess her past history with Jefferson Sterling.

"Miles, actually, I..."

The clicking heels came to a dead stop right outside their door.

It was immediately followed by a frantic pounding on the wood.

"Bang! Bang!"

"Ms. Zimmerman, do not make this difficult. If you insist on trespassing, I will have no choice but to call security. You really don't want to make a scene at an event like this."

"You... Mr. Whittaker, who do you think you are? Do you honestly believe redeveloping that Westside plot makes you untouchable? You wouldn't be anywhere without the Zimmermans! You'll regret this!"

Spitting venom, Yvonne turned on her heel and stormed off.

Inside the room, Miles’s expression darkened considerably.

He knew Yvonne had been pampered, but he hadn't realized how wildly arrogant and completely devoid of basic decency she had become in public.

He looked down at Claire. "What exactly is going on between you and Yvonne? Why are you so terrified of her?"

The confession that had been on the tip of her tongue vanished. She forced a bright smile instead.

"I'm not terrified of her. We just have some professional friction. Industry rivalry, you know how it is."

Claire pushed gently against his chest, eager to change the subject. "Let's go home. I really want to examine the embroidery on that vintage dress."

"Alright."

Miles retrieved his car from the valet and pulled up to the entrance of the auction venue, waiting quietly for Claire to come out.

"Claire!"