Bachelor Auction (13 page)

receiving end of it was another. It made him too

human, too...not like the other men in her life. Not

like her father.

But he was. All men were. She had to remind

herself of that, could never forget it.

Charlotte stopped beside her car, a little red

convertible—just one more detail of her well

cultivated façade—and dug in her purse for the keys.

“I thought we could go to dinner and discuss the

promotional part of our trip.”

She glanced up, only now realizing Marcus had

followed her. He had remained silent, keeping his

distance. Probably had some ulterior motive, though

she couldn’t begin to guess what. It didn’t matter. It

was there, and she refused to be taken in or let down

her guard. If he thought otherwise, he was sadly

mistaken.

Opening the car door, she forced him to stand

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aside, then slid behind the wheel. “Sorry, I can’t.

Sam’s waiting for me.”

Marcus moved between her and the door,

leaning forward, one arm on the roof. “Sam, huh? Is

he your latest plaything?”

She smiled, knowing by his frown she’d struck a

nerve. Might as well play it for all it was worth. “I

have to admit, he does like to play.”

“How does he feel about you coming on this trip

with me?”

“He really doesn’t have any say in what I do, but

to answer your question, he won’t like it.” Though

Sam hated it when she left him alone, he didn’t have

a jealous bone in his body. But then the over-

indulged feline thought he was the only male in her

life. “Of course, I’ll have to do my best to make it up

to him tonight.”

Charlotte almost laughed as Marcus’s frown

turned into a full-fledged scowl. She took advantage

of his shocked outrage and reached for the door

handle. He moved out of the way, and she quickly

shut the door. As she backed out of the parking

space, he didn’t say a thing, just stood there, feet

braced apart, arms folded over his chest. It was

rather exhilarating to think she’d shaken him up.

Of course, she’d seen that look on his face before

and knew it wasn’t jealousy. He, like most men,

simply didn’t like the idea of sharing a woman, even

if he didn’t want her.

Unable to resist, Charlotte lowered her window

halfway and gave him a grin and a wink. “Oh, don’t

let it concern you, Marcus. I’ll still have enough

energy to make this weekend one you’ll never

forget.”

And she would too. She would keep him so

rattled, he wouldn’t know what hit him. She would

tease and taunt, entice and enchant, lure him in

until he didn’t know which end was up. He’d be

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putty in her hands.

Same as you were in the elevator
.

Charlotte groaned. She had practically melted

under his touch. If she wanted to succeed in her

plans to seduce Marcus and leave him high and dry,

she needed to think of a way to fortify herself

against his charm.

****

door of Charlotte’s condo and rubbed a hand over his

face, not quite awake at such an early hour. He

glanced back at Spencer, busy rearranging luggage

at the rear of Melody’s white sedan. Melody looked

up from supervising Spencer and smiled, urging him

to try again. He sighed and knocked a second time,

trying not to think about what might be going on

inside that kept her from answering.

He’d been up half the night, fighting off images

of Charlotte, her hair and skin damp with sweat,

tangled in satin sheets with her lover, the unknown

Sam. Marcus had tossed and turned, his gut twisting

as helpless desperation seized him until he finally

jumped out of bed and grabbed his keys, ready to

race to her condo to interrupt their liaison. He’d

come to his senses, remembering she owed him

nothing and that the trip to Aspen was a

promotional gimmick, not a lover’s rendezvous.

Luckily, he’d recalled that fact before he reached

his front door and before Chad—or his latest bed

partner—caught him bare-assed naked in the middle

of the living room. He’d given up on sleep after that,

something he regretted now as he stifled another

yawn. He would need his wit and all the stamina he

could muster to deal with Charlotte Reese this early

in the morning.

Marcus raised his fist to knock a third time as

the door opened. Charlotte eyed him lazily. Her

blonde hair fell around her shoulders in a disheveled

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yet provocative mess. If not for the formfitting black

dress she wore, he could, without difficulty, picture

her reluctantly easing from her lover’s embrace to

answer the door.

He banished the image to the back of his mind,

since he couldn’t fully erase it, and forced a smile.

“Morning. You ready to go?”

She blinked her confusion. “Well, um, thanks,

but actually you should go on ahead. Melody is

picking me up.”

Marcus hooked a thumb over his shoulder,

pointing to Spencer and Melody. “I didn’t want to

leave my car at the airport, so Spencer offered me a

ride.”

“Oh.”

That single syllable, though barely audible, rang

with disappointment, its echo in his ears nearly

drowning out the clickety-clack of her high heels as

she started across the white marble foyer. Marcus

ground his teeth to keep from telling her he didn’t

like the situation any more than she did. That she

was the last woman he would spend time with if

given the choice. But he
didn’t
have a choice, and

arguing wasn’t the best way to start the weekend.

Without

waiting

for

an

invitation—he’d

probably see hell freeze over before he got one—he

moved through the door and closed it behind him.

With each step his irritation gave way to curiosity.

He’d often wondered what comforts a creature like

Charlotte surrounded herself with.

He paused at the doorway of a spacious living

area. At first glance he found the room as sleek and

lush as its owner, a setting obviously designed for

seduction. Velvet, the color of fine claret, draped the

windows to create a dark and secluded atmosphere.

Overstuffed chairs and a sofa upholstered in

burgundy and vanilla brocade, with huge throw

pillows, flanked a fireplace made from the same

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crème marble he stood on. Wine-red candles of

assorted widths and heights lined the mantle and

cluttered both the inner and outer hearth that

blended smoothly into carpet so thick and plush it

made him think of quicksand.

If he’d seen the room a week ago, he would have

wondered how many men had been sucked under.

He would have thought it mirrored the sultry

personality of the Charlotte Reese he’d known these

last five years. Now he questioned why the room

held none of the personality of the woman he’d

glimpsed yesterday at the hospital.

The tapping of Charlotte’s heels fell silent,

drawing his attention across the entryway where the

hard flooring ended and more of the soft, crème

carpeting began, a direct contrast to the clingy dark

fabric that curved across swaying hips. Stirred to

action and definitely interested in seeing the rest of

her home, he took the steps two at a time to catch

up.

He reached her side on the landing halfway up

the stairs. “You have a nice place.”

“Thanks,” she muttered absently.

“Doesn’t seem to really fit you though.”

She jerked to a stop and looked at him as if he

were a big hairy spider and she suffered from

arachnophobia.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to offend. It’s just—”

“What are you doing here?”

“I thought we’d already established I’m here

with Spencer and Melody to take you to the airport.”

She shook her head and pointed to the spot

where he stood. “No, what are you doing
here
? Why

aren’t you waiting outside?”

“I’m helping you with your suitcases.”

He placed a foot on the next step. She stayed

him with a hand on his arm. “Thank you, but you

don’t have to do that.”

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“It’s no problem.”

She darted a quick glance toward the room at

the top of the stairs, then climbed to the step above

him and placed a hand on his chest. “I can manage.

Really.”

For one who hid her feelings well, this show of

apprehension—surely

not

due

to

modesty—

surprised him. His curiosity spiked. She obviously

didn’t want him entering her bedroom. The question

was, why? He smiled at the possibility of underwear

on the floor, candy wrappers on the bedside table, an

unmade bed?

An unmade bed with red silk sheets.

And a gilded mirror on the ceiling.

He groaned inwardly, and his smile slipped.

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea for him to see where

Charlotte slept. Or sometimes didn’t sleep but rather

found her pleasure. He wasn’t certain he could

survive his already vivid imagination were it to

become more explicit in detail.

Yet her reluctance to admit him nudged his

curiosity to the forefront and self-preservation took a

backseat with common sense. “If you’ve packed as

much as most women, you’ll need my help. Even if

you are too stubborn to admit it.”

Marcus started around her, but she moved to

block his way and he crashed into her. She tumbled

backward, but he caught her quickly, yanking her

tightly against him. A silent moment passed as he

held her, and his body grew increasingly attentive to

her slender frame and how it fit so perfectly to his.

The angle of her head left her throat bare, inviting

his lips to explore its length. The deep neckline of

her dress stretched taut, revealing a fraction of a

black lace bra. Did she have one in every color?

Lust pooled low in his gut, and the semi-aroused

state he stayed in whenever he was around

Charlotte grew to full length. The shock in her

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almond-shaped eyes quickly faded to a questioning

awareness his body begged to answer. She licked her

lips, and he almost lost the battle his conscience

waged to keep his vow to honor her this weekend. To

show her she deserved to have a man treat her with

respect and not expect sex as payment for his

attention.

Granted, a kiss wasn’t sex, and Melody and

Spencer waited just outside to take them to the

airport, yet every kiss he’d shared with Charlotte

had taken on a life of its own. Up to now he had kept

a tight rein on his control, but after a night of

explicit imaginings and dreams, it wouldn’t take

much to sever his grip on reality. Especially when he

wanted so damn much to lay her down on the stairs

and slide deep inside her warmth.

Marcus released her, shoved his hands in his

pockets and cleared his throat. “I’ve seen my fair

share of women’s underwear, you know.”

She stopped smoothing her dress and gave him

a blank look.

“If that’s what you’re afraid of.” Though the

state he was in, he wasn’t at all sure he could handle

seeing Charlotte’s flimsy lingerie.

She smiled and placed her hands on her hips.

“Now, Marcus. Why would I be afraid for you to see

my panties? You’ve seen them before.”

His erection pressed painfully against the

button fly of his jeans, reminding him to steer the

conversation in another direction if he wanted any

relief. He should have known better than to engage

in sexual banter with Charlotte Reese.

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his jaw.

“Then is there a particular reason you don’t want me

in your bedroom?”

“Other than I didn’t invite you?”

The truth of her statement hit him like a sucker

punch to the stomach, and his desire waned as the

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