Sandy gestured in his direction. “Excellent! Can I get seven fifty? Seven fifty?
From the left corner of her eye Lucie saw a man raise his hand. “Seven fifty.”
Stephen. “Ah fuck.” Lucie froze and barely refrained from slapping a hand over her mouth. She couldn’t believe she’d said that out loud! Damn alcohol loosed her bar tongue at a fancy event. Wonderful.
Sandy moved the microphone away from her mouth and whispered, “I’m sorry, dear, did you say something?”
“Um, I said ‘what luck.’” Lucie gave her what she hoped was a sheepish grin. “I was afraid I wouldn’t get any takers.”
“Nonsense, honey, you’re a beautiful young woman.” Then she returned to her role as auctioneer and raised the price to a cool grand.
For the next several minutes she watched anxiously as her price kept getting higher and higher, driven up by Stephen’s bottomless checkbook. Lucie had assured the guys she’d pay anything over their budget, but in her wildest imagination she hadn’t thought Stephen would hang on this long.
The bid was now up to twenty grand, and it was Stephen’s. Lucie made eye contact with Kyle and gave a slight shake of her head as Sandy asked for another five hundred from him. Going on another date with the man wasn’t the end of the world. It certainly wasn’t worth putting herself and her friends in the poorhouse over.
But if she were being completely honest with herself, it was less about going on a third pointless date with Stephen, and more about the date being a painful reminder of what she would never have with Reid.
Sandy perked up beside her, “Okay then, twenty thousand going once…twenty thousand going—”
“One hundred thousand,” called a deep voice from the back of the room. A voice Lucie knew as intimately as her own.
Gasps and whispers filled the hall and the crowd twisted in their chairs in almost perfect unison. Reid stepped farther into the room until he came to stand in the center of the tables. All eyes were on him, and yet his were trained fully on hers and never once waivered.
On some subconscious level, Lucie knew she was staring wide-eyed and stunned like a deer in headlights, but she’d never seen anyone so sexy before in her life. Reid stood out like a giant among men. The tuxedo hugged his large frame perfectly, no doubt because it had been tailored to do so, unlike most of the men who probably rented their ill-fitting outfits.
He was perfection personified. She drank in the sight of his bad boy looks that set him even further apart from the sea of average males surrounding him. Suntanned skin and the pointed tips of his tribal tattoo snaking up his neck stood out against the stark white of his shirt. A shirt that lay open at the throat, his bow tie hanging loose around the collar like he’d been in too much of a hurry to do himself up properly.
His hair was styled in the barely there faux-hawk she loved and the trimmed growth of his beard made her miss having whisker rash in delicate places. His bottom lip sported a healing cut and an angry red abrasion highlighted one of his cheekbones giving his refined look a feral edge.
But it was the way his hazel eyes bore straight through to her soul that awakened the butterflies in her stomach to fan the embers of her desire that had her knees weakening.
Sandy cleared her throat and practically squeaked, “I beg your pardon?”
“I bid one hundred thousand dollars, for one date, with the stunningly beautiful woman on stage.” Then he turned his head to pin Stephen with a challenging glare. “Unless of course someone raises the bid, in which case, I’ll raise mine as well.”
Lucie bit her lip while she waited for Stephen’s reaction. After several moments of looking between her and Reid, he finally shook his head. Lucie blew out the breath that had been burning her lungs as Sandy announced Reid the highest bidder. It was either that or the woman just found out she won a trip to Disney World. It was hard to tell with the excitable, high-pitched, mile-a-minute way she was talking.
Whatever the cause for Sandy’s excitement, Lucie wasn’t paying attention. Her eyes were glued to the devilishly handsome man walking toward the stage as the band struck up their first song of the evening.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he held out his hand. Her body moved without encouragement from her brain, as if the simple act of holding out his hand affected her with a gravitational pull she had no hope of fighting.
But she preferred to think of it as avoiding a scene if she were to throw a drink in his face, which is what she really wanted to do. Right? Of course right.
The moment her hand slipped into his, an almost imperceptible tingling sensation traveled up her arm and spread through the whole of her body. Without speaking a word he led her onto the dance floor where couples started to gather. He pulled her into his body, fitting her against him as though they were two halves of the same whole. One large hand slid around, settling at the base of her spine and warming her skin through the thin material of her dress. The other held her hand in a proper dance hold level with his shoulder.
As they swayed to the music, Lucie fought her duplicitous impulses of kissing him madly and stomping on his foot before exiting the ballroom.
“You just spent an awful lot of money to get something you claimed you didn’t even want,” she finally said.
“I know.”
She studied him, trying to solve the puzzle without having to ask for the answers, but the normal clues were absent. There was no smug smile. No jaw muscle jumping in irritation. Not a disapproving frown or even a challenging hitch of one brow. For the first time ever, Reid Andrews was utterly unreadable.
“Why?”
“Because you refused to take my calls, and I know you’re too honorable to back out of a date that some poor schmuck has shelled out an exorbitant amount of money for.”
Averting her eyes she said, “So this is all fun and games to you. That’s comforting.”
“Hell, no, this isn’t a game.” With the tips of his fingers he brought her face front and center. “I had to see you. Damn, I’ve missed you, sweetheart.”
Air. She needed air.
Spinning on her heel she weaved an erratic path through the dancing couples to where she knew French doors opened onto a large patio and manicured gardens. Lucie expected he’d follow her, but she didn’t care so long as she got away from the crowd and their prying eyes. She refused to break down in front of her colleagues and their guests.
Pushing through the doors she inhaled the bouquet of floral scents deep into her lungs before letting it out as she crossed to the large three-tiered fountain at the entrance to the gardens. Crossing her arms over her middle she held tight as though she could prevent losing herself to her own emotions.
She heard the gravel crunch under his shoes as he came to stand behind her, but he remained silent as she watched the water cascade in front of her. When he finally spoke, his low voice coiled around her body, adding strength to her embrace, easing some of her tension. “That dress looks stunning on you. You’re the most magnificent woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
Lucie said nothing. She couldn’t even if she’d wanted to. Her throat was locked up tight. She heard a slight scratching sound, like sandpaper, and pictured him rubbing his jawline.
“I regained my belt. I beat Diaz.”
“I know,” she said softly.
No matter how many times she told herself she wouldn’t watch his fight, she’d known anything short of nuclear war wouldn’t prevent her from seeing it. Sitting on her couch with her knees drawn into her chest and her teeth gnawing the hell out of her lip, Lucie had observed every excruciating moment. Of course it’d been too much to ask for a quick bout. No, she’d been subjected to almost three full rounds of watching Reid take blows and kicks to his head and body that looked like they could take down a gorilla. Thankfully, he gave just as good as he got, and in the third round he managed to knock out his opponent with a spectacular head kick.
She’d never been so relieved in her life. Or so proud.
Stop daydreaming and say something, damn you. She cleared her throat and said what she supposed was the logical response. “Congratulations. You’re once again the champion…just as you wanted all along.”
“Not all along.” A finger trailed lightly from her shoulder to elbow in excruciating slowness. “My goals and ambitions have changed considerably since I walked into your office that day.”
She shook her head. That’s not what he claimed a month ago when she opened herself up to him more than she’d done with anyone else.
“Lucie, I retired after my fight.”
She spun around and stared at him with wide eyes. “Why would you do that? You won.”
“It didn’t matter if I won or lost. I made the decision to retire before the fight, no matter the outcome.”
“But,” she stammered, “what will you do?”
“There’s more I can do with my life besides fighting. I was thinking I could move back here and try something else. Maybe pursue my sculpting, or buy hideous argyle clothing and take up golf. I don’t care what I do, as long as I’m with you.”
She was shaking her head before he even finished. “No. That’s what you say now, but eventually you’re going to feel that itch, that need, and at your age, if you’re out of the circuit it’s going to be so hard to get back in. You can’t quit because of me, Reid. You can’t put that kind of pressure on me.”
“Whoa, slow down, sweetheart,” he said, grasping her firmly by her shoulders and making sure he had her full attention before starting again. “I’m not quitting, I’m retiring. And I’m not doing it because of you. I’m doing it for me.”
“I don’t understand. You love to fight.”
Reid took her hands in his, bringing them between them, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of her fingers. “Remember when I told you that I’d always love the sport, but wouldn’t always love being in it?”
“Yes. You said it after dinner that night.”
“That’s what this is. My heart’s just not in it anymore.”
His eyes searched hers as though hoping to see that she understood, but she wasn’t sure she did. “Then where is it?”
“With you, Lucie. My heart is with you.”
She wanted so desperately to just go with what he was telling her, but a big part of her—the part that had been crushed a month ago when he walked away from her—held her back, warning her about false hopes. She needed more validation than that.
“Since when?” she challenged.
“Since when has my heart been with you?” She nodded. He stepped closer and framed her face in his large hands. “Quite possibly from the first time I heard you snort.” He placed a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Very probably when you flirted with our waiter.” A warm kiss on the freckle by her eye. “Almost certainly the first time you fell asleep in my arms.” A small kiss on the opposite cheek. “And most definitely the night we made love.” Finally, a tender kiss on the lips.
How was it possible for one man to be so many different things? Fighter, makeover expert, professional seducer, artist, and now poet. A woman didn’t stand a chance against a combination like that. He was nothing she’d thought she needed in a man, and yet everything she wanted and more.
Rising on her toes, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him for everything she was worth. Strong arms banded around her, holding her tight against him as he branded her with searing lips. Somewhere nearby the bells of a church chimed a lighthearted melody as they at last came up for air.
Catching her breath she made one final request. “Say it, Reid.”
He grinned. “You’re going to make me spell it out, aren’t you?”
“You’re lucky I don’t make you write it in the sky with one of those little planes.”
He chuckled, but sobered fairly quickly. Still holding her close, he touched his forehead to hers and spoke with the utmost sincerity shining in his hazel eyes. “Lucie Marie Maris…I am completely and utterly in love with you. And as God as my witness—no matter how long it takes—someday I will be worthy enough to be your husband, because I can’t bear the thought of living without you.”
The bells started tolling the midnight hour in slow gongs as she soaked up the beautiful words that acted as a balm to her soul, repairing the rift he’d caused weeks earlier. She felt whole again and, for the first time in her adult life, unconditionally loved.
Her chin quivered as she tried to hold back the tears rushing to her eyes, but it was no use. They spilled over her cheeks, one after another, and she’d be lucky if her sooty tears didn’t drip onto her dress and ruin it. Stupid man.
“Now look what you’ve gone and done.” She sniffled, determined to at least keep snot out of the whole train wreck that was previously her carefully applied makeup. “A simple ‘I love you’ would have sufficed.”
He smiled before placing a gentle kiss on her lips. “I love you.”
“It’s too late, I’m already a mess.”
“I think you’re gorgeous.”
Lucie squinched up her nose. “You’re biased. I can’t go back in there like this.”
He canted his head to the side for a moment, and then smiled down at her. “The clock’s about to strike twelve, Cinderella. I should probably get you up to the safety of my hotel room. You know, just in case.”
She gave a short laugh, using the back of a hand to swipe at the black streaks under her eyes and holding it up as proof. “I’m fairly sure I’ve already turned back into my former state, but getting out of this dress and into a hot bath sounds like heaven.”
His eyes darkened with intensity and a muscle in his jaw ticked. She hadn’t meant her statement to sound sexual, but clearly that’s how it was received judging by Reid’s reaction.
Grabbing her hand, he nearly growled and said, “I couldn’t agree more.”
Without waiting another second, he spun, pulling her out of the garden toward the front of the hotel. His strides were so long and quick she had to hitch up her dress and jog behind him to keep up. Amazingly enough she was managing the pace just fine when suddenly the heel of her right shoe became trapped in a crevice, causing her to falter as her foot continued on without it. Thankfully Reid used his lightning-fast reflexes to catch her before she face-planted on the paving stones near the French doors.
Unable to help herself, she laughed hysterically as she reached down and tried to wrench it free. A couple of rough tugs freed her shoe…but not the heel. Mouth agape she stared at the stubborn spike still wedged in the stone. “Well, crap. Doesn’t that just figure.”
He swept her up into his arms, took one look at her bare foot and said, “Well now it’s official.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, her broken footwear dangling from the fingers of one hand. “What’s official?”
“You really are Cinderella.”
“Well, in that case…” Lucie caught her lower lip between her teeth, traced the tan skin revealed by the open V of his shirt, then glanced up coyly through her lashes, just like he’d taught her. “…let’s get started on our Happily Ever After.”
As the last chime faded into the starry night, he met her gaze with a heart-melting smile and said, “As you wish, princess,” before carrying her off to do just that.
Acknowledgments
There are so many people who have played a role in my journey to becoming a published author, and as this is my first published work, I want to make sure I mention all of them at least this once, so please bear with me.
I’d like to thank…
First and foremost my three wonderful children who have been patient, encouraging, and hugely supportive from the first day I began writing. Thank you for understanding and dealing with the occasional “make it yourself” dinner night, or bringing me something to eat or drink so I don’t whither away while in a deep writing frenzy.
Ruthie Knox for not getting a restraining order against me when I fangirl-stalked her ass, bequeathing me with superpower
s, and becoming one of my very best friends and phenomenal CP. My writing would not be what it is today without her.
Ella Sheridan for being a great friend, my other totally kickass CP, and keeping up our small accountability group on TMAS which keeps me honest and motivated when I need it most.
Jamie Burch, my moon sister and original beta, for creating the beautiful Lucie’s Anklet* featured in this story, but mostly, for all the Moon Love she’s given me over the years.
Jenni Bailey for being one of my first writer friends and for always being an enthusiastic beta, even when I asked her to read DotS so many times her eyeballs threatened to fall out.
The Romance Man, better known by me as Remy, who I think may be my long-lost fraternal twin brother, for supporting me and making me laugh until I pee my pants on a regular basis.
The BBLs—specifically Pat, Diane, Lexie, Kate, Michele, Nancy, Lucie, and Julie—for being some of the coolest people I’ve never met & the best cheerleaders ever.
My Twitter friends Cara, Cari, Edie, Serena, Amber, Del, and Charlotte who are always there to pimp me out with RTs, make me laugh with their outrageous conversations, and swap raggedy pics for a boost of half-nekkid inspiration.
Bill Brandl, aka President of the Unofficial Gina L. Maxwell Farm-Boy Fan Club (PUGLMFBFC), for harassing a poor sales lady at a bookstore by insisting I was published a couple of years ago and making her search for my (nonexistent) book for over half an hour.
Brock Miles for putting up with my incessant e-mail correspondence and creating my sexy-as-hell website that far exceeded my expectations with the limited platform I gave him to do it in.
Laura Coleman for her amazing copywriting skills who brainstormed her butt off to come up with a new tagline for my website I didn’t completely reject. It says it all, and I love it.
Kim Anguiano for making me far more beautiful than I am and capturing it with her camera for my author photos, and for being the best damn hair stylist I’ve ever had.
Aunt Marlene who got excited and said, “Do it!” when I dared tell her my crazy idea of maybe-kinda-sorta writing a book, and Grandma Bisbee who told me eight years ago she thought I should be a writer, which at the time I laughed off, but now think she may have been the one to plant the seed.
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