Free The Bachelor's Promise (Bachelor Auction) by Naima Simone Page A

repeated, sweeping an arm out. “For this place. What’s off-limits? What do I have access to, and what time is too late to come in? I can grocery shop, cook, and clean up. What else do you—”
    “I thought we already covered this back at your apartment.” His full lips straightened into a hard line. “You’re insisting on paying rent, I damn sure don’t expect you to play Molly Maid while you’re here. And you’re not a teenager with a curfew. You can come and go as you please. The only thing I ask is you let me know if you plan on bringing someone here.”
    She hadn’t expected him to grant her run of his home, yet that blatant lack of trust stung. Ridiculous. And she was being ungrateful and petty even after he’d shown her to a room that rivaled every dream she’d harbored as a girl when she’d lain in the cramped, dingy-walled, sad bedrooms of her childhood apartments. But that sense of misplaced pride, of hating being dependent on him, of all people, and the fetid fear of being so damn alone made her lash out when a simple “thank you” would’ve been in order.
    “Well, shoot.” She snapped her fingers. “There goes my plan to bring my crew over and rob you blind.”
    Oh damn .
    As soon as the taunt escaped her lips, she longed to snatch them back. Earlier, she’d allowed anger to make her careless with her words. And she’d done it again. Dragged their past and plopped it right there between them.
    His eyes narrowed, a muscle ticking along his clenched jaw. “Are you trying to piss me off, Noelle?” Slowly, he nodded. “You must be. Or else you wouldn’t keep throwing reminders in my face every time you open your mouth.”
    “As if I need to mention what you think about my family,” she murmured. “Thieving, no-good Ranas. Users. Lazy. It’s no secret; you’ve never made it a secret about how you feel.”
    “Am I wrong?” he pressed. “Are you going to stand here and tell me he wasn’t a thief? A user?”
    No. She loved her father, but, no, she couldn’t deny he’d been all that Aiden accused him of…and more.
    “For years, Frank lived off Mom. I can’t even say he stole, because she willingly gave him anything he asked for—even if it meant a bill wasn’t paid or she went without. But that hadn’t been enough for him. He had to loot her home like a damn grave robber because he wasn’t satisfied. Because he felt he deserved more. He didn’t give a damn who he hurt.”
    She swallowed past the fist of shame lodged in her throat. “I hated what he did. But that wasn’t me. I had nothing to do with it.”
    “He used your key, Noelle.”
    “He stole it,” she objected. “I didn’t know—”
    “Frank told me you gave it to him,” he interrupted, and his bald, flat statement punched her in the lungs.
    “What?” she rasped. “He wouldn’t…”
    Confusion muddled her thoughts. But right under the bewilderment lurked a wriggling uneasiness.
    Crossing his arms, Aiden studied her for a long, seemingly interminable moment. “As soon as I saw the damage and realized what was missing, I knew who was responsible. The doors on the china cabinet Mom was so proud of? The top shelf where she kept the special china set was empty. The dishes were gone. Then I went into her bedroom and the top of her jewelry box was open, the diamond earrings her mother had passed down to her missing. As were the pearl necklace I saved for and bought her for her birthday with my first paycheck when I was seventeen, and the brooch her coworkers at the nursing home surprised her with after her promotion to manager. All of it, gone. She would’ve never parted with those. Your father took them. Among other things.”
    His voice dropped to a silken, low timbre that sent shivers skating down her spine. He lowered his arms, sliding his hands into his front pants pockets.
    “I called Frank, Noelle. Told him I was calling the police and having him arrested for breaking and entering and theft. He laughed,