The Bachelor Auction

by Rachel Van Dyken

  Clearly everyone was drunk, because soon women were chanting “strip, strip, strip.”

  Jane burst out laughing and shrugged. “Give them what they want.”

  Suddenly the music came on and the lights started strobing, and it was as if he’d been caught in a horrible version of Magic Mike.

  Horrified, he was about to walk off stage, but Jane locked eyes with him and suddenly the rest of the world faded away.

  Besides. It made her laugh.

  And he had said that was all he wanted.

  Her.

  Her smile.

  Everything about her.

  Slowly, he shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it at Jane’s face; then, with a smirk, he started unbuttoning his silk shirt.

  After the third button women started screaming.

  Cameras flashed, and Brock strutted toward Jane as he undid the next few buttons, stopping in front of her when the last fell away.

  He grabbed her hands and pressed them against his chest.

  She helped him out of the shirt and tossed it into the air, amidst screams and whistles.

  “I’m going to kiss you now.” He grinned.

  “I’m going to let you.”

  Their mouths met in a searing kiss. Too soon she pulled away, laughing as Nadine appeared beside her, phone hoisted in the air, snapping picture after picture.

  “Humiliation’s complete.” He nodded. “Fantastic.”

  “That is some stallion you’ve got there.” Nadine elbowed Jane. “Come on, stallion, give us a good neigh.”

  “Grandfather,” Brock interrupted before things got even more awkward. If that was even possible. “About that talk.”

  “Tomorrow.” Grandfather’s eyes seemed to twinkle. “For now, enjoy that you’ve bested me.” And then he winked, but before he walked away he paused mid-step, looking back over his shoulder. “By the way, you did me proud tonight.”

  And then he was gone.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Were you worried?” Jane whispered in Brock’s ear once they were back at his penthouse apartment. She was still trying to get over the luxury and opulence that he lived in. She truly was in a fairy tale, and he was her prince in every way imaginable.

  “Never.” A hungry kiss followed his confession as he slowly inched his fingers down her back and began undoing her dress. “Especially since I had a Titus on my side.”

  Jane gasped as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her exposed back. Slowly, he pulled her dress to the floor in a pool of fabric. “One day…” Her body felt heavy as she leaned back against his chest. “You’re going to have to tell me more about that woman.”

  “That’s part of her charm—nobody really knows the truth. Did she run for president? Did she work for the CIA? Is she a Russian spy?” Brock’s hot chuckle seared her skin as his hands reached around her body and cupped her breasts, weighing them in his hands while simultaneously pulling her closer to his aroused body.

  “Russian spy? Seriously?” Jane was ridiculously curious but was having a hard time concentrating on anything except the way Brock’s erection pressed against her backside—and how all she wanted to do was wiggle closer.

  “I don’t want to talk about someone who’s more than likely seen my grandfather naked.” He bit her earlobe then started kissing down the right side of her neck. He turned her around to face him. His eyes were dark with need. “Shocking, I know. But I’d rather be worshipping your body with my mouth right about now.”

  “That’s a good plan…” She touched her fingertips against his lips. “Thank you…for being willing to give up everything.”

  “In a heartbeat.” His eyes flashed. “All of this. I would give up everything for you. Know that when I say I love you it’s because you’re special, beautiful, caring, unique. You drive me crazy, and now that I have you—I can’t imagine ever letting you go.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “Good. Because I won’t let you.”

  “Oh?”

  She slowly started unbuttoning his shirt. He stared down at her with a half-lidded gaze as she removed his shirt.

  When he was bare chested but still in his tux pants, she took a step back, crossed her arms over her breasts. “Well, good night,” she said.

  He blinked at her in confusion.

  Then he narrowed his eyes and crooked his finger.

  She took a step back, biting down on her lip to keep from smiling.

  “Come here.” He kicked off his shoes then unbuttoned his pants before tossing them into a heap near her dress. “Jane, don’t make me chase you again.”

  “Again?”

  “The ranch.” He took a step toward her. “It felt like every day I was chasing you, even when I was telling myself it was a bad idea… Hell, sometimes when I look at you, I wonder if I haven’t been chasing after you—the woman I was always meant to be with—my entire life.”

  “You’ve really got the whole romance thing down.” She couldn’t help but smile. “The twins taught you well.”

  “Final straw.” He charged her and tossed her over his shoulder, then tossed her onto his bed. She laughed as she landed with a soft thud, then let him pin her arms above her head with one hand and cup the back of her head with the other. “No more talk of grandparents, brothers, sisters, goats—”

  “—cocks,” she finished.

  “Oh, we can most definitely talk about that.” He rubbed his body against hers. “In fact, some might say it’s encouraged in the bedroom.”

  “Is that so?”

  He nodded, then slid off the last remaining piece of clothing she had on, if one could call such a tiny strip of fabric clothing—and flicked it to the side.

  All that remained were her pearls.

  And somehow, that felt right.

  “I love you,” he moaned, covering his mouth with hers. “I know this should be more romantic, but damn it, Jane, I just want to be inside you.”

  “I want that, too—” She’d barely finished talking before he was buried to the hilt inside her. Her body purred with pleasure.

  “So good.” He pressed another hungry kiss to her neck. “You always feel so perfect to me.”

  “I love you, Brock.” She gave him a breathless kiss as she grabbed onto a fistful of his hair and pulled him deeper and deeper until she thought she was going to explode.

  “You’re mine, Jane.” He gripped the pearls, tugging her mouth toward his for another drugging kiss as he swallowed her scream.

  “You’re mine, too,” she sobbed out as he sent her into what felt like a never-ending wave of pleasure.

  And Brock Wellington—Boring Brock, the man who’d always said yes when all he really wanted to say was no—screamed out his yes.

  And truly meant it.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  You wanted to see me?” Brock said in a gruff voice. He’d been up all night with Jane, and the last thing he wanted was to be reporting to his Grandfather’s office at seven a.m. because his grandfather had said it couldn’t wait.

  And that’s all his grandfather had said.

  It can’t wait.

  But when Brock asked if it was an emergency, Grandfather had hung up on him. Figures. His grandfather had actually seemed happy last night, happy to see Jane win. Was it possible he’d changed his mind overnight? It was Grandfather. Of course it was possible.

  It seemed like every newspaper in the nation had covered the auction, calling it a true Cinderella story. Because of Nadine’s connections, inside information had been given to a few key magazines that made Jane look innocent in the whole thing.

  And once the media learned Nadine’s fairy godmother donation to Jane had allowed true love to win, well, the media had gone wild. How could his grandfather not be pleased with all the attention?

  He knocked twice on his grandfather’s office door, then finally just let himself in.

  And as per usual, his grandfather was seated behind his massive desk, his hair perfectly combed, his suit starched wit
hin an inch of his life.

  “Brock.” Grandfather grinned. “Sit down.”

  Brock narrowed his eyes at his grandfather then slowly lowered himself into the facing leather chair and waited.

  “I didn’t know what to do with you,” Grandfather began in a hoarse voice. “A part of you died with your parents. Don’t deny it.”

  Brock couldn’t. Because it was true. A part of him did die and then Jane went and found it.

  “I did a poor job with you three.” Grandfather shook his head. “You were so much older than the twins, more mature, that it felt natural you would follow in my footsteps. At the time I didn’t realize I was forcing anything on you that you didn’t want. By the time I did notice, it was too late. Your fear guided every decision you made—until Jane.”

  Brock smiled. “Until Jane.”

  Grandfather nodded his head thoughtfully, then stood and came around the desk to sit directly next to Brock.

  His grandfather had never sat anywhere but behind his desk.

  It was too familiar.

  Not as threatening.

  Stunned, Brock watched as his grandfather wiped a tear from his eye and shook his head at Brock. “Nadine asked for my help.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “After you came up with your harebrained scheme to have Nadine sponsor Jane, Nadine knew that the only way to rig the whole damn thing was to call out favors with each of the wealthiest families bidding. If you haven’t noticed, Nadine is a complete mastermind of manipulation. She didn’t want to stop with Jane, though—no, that woman’s bloodthirsty—the minute she forced me to confess the problems I’d been having with you boys and the shareholders, the entire plan exploded into what I’d like to think of as world domination.” He chuckled. “Though Bentley and Brant were never supposed to be a part of the auction—I see now why I wasn’t told. I’m surprised they didn’t flee the country.” He sighed. “I shudder to think of the plans that Nadine has for those two. I do hope you know what you’re doing, because they didn’t seem happy when they left—though God knows they need someone to straighten them out. They’re beyond my reach.”

  “Why?” Brock blinked in confusion. “Why help Jane? Why help me, for that matter? Why allow Nadine to sponsor Jane in the first place?”

  “Oh, son.” Grandfather’s smile was sad as he reached over and patted Brock’s hand, “Did you really think I was such a horrible person for trying to make things easy on you? For taking the choices away from you, the stress? What I thought was a blessing ended up being your curse, and for that I will never forgive myself.” He stood. “Asking Nadine to help was smart—the shareholders are pleased, but most of all, I’ve never been more proud of you in my entire life. You stood up for what you loved—I know that if your parents were here, they’d say the same.” He inclined his head. “Last night, I was proud to be your grandfather. You risked everything. For love.”

  “Yeah.” Brock smiled, just thinking about Jane. “All for love.”

  Grandfather’s lips formed an amused smile. “Exactly as it should be.” He chuckled and shook his head. “All right, now leave an old man in peace. And don’t think I’m not still watching you!” Grandfather got up and moved to his chair, pointing a strong finger at Brock. “You better make an honest woman out of that Jane. Marry her, give me great-grandkids to spoil. Now you’re dismissed.”

  Someone knocked loudly on the door then it flew open, and Nadine came stomping in.

  She ignored Brock completely, stepped up to his grandfather and kissed his cheek. “Ready to get those twins settled down?”

  “Take notes, Brock,” Grandfather’s eyes never left Nadine’s. “This is what it looks like to sell your soul to the devil.”

  Nadine and Brock laughed while Grandfather wrapped an arm around her waist, and kissed her on the mouth.

  “Everyone needs a little sin in their lives,” she whispered. Then she looked at Brock. “Shoo! Go find that woman you won, you!”

  At that, Brock held up his hands and walked out.

  Feeling the lightest he’d felt in years.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Three months later

  It’s beautiful!” Jane’s eyes filled with tears as the sign in front of her old home was finally revealed. She and Brock had decided it would be best to sell her family home, especially once she found out that her sisters were in such heavy debt that there was no other way out. She knew her parents would understand, and even though the house had memories there was no better charity organization to sell it to.

  Her home now belonged to the cancer charity that Wellington, Inc. and Titus Enterprises were working on together.

  Her sisters never said thank you.

  In fact, they hadn’t said much since the ball.

  For a while she’d been sad, but then she looked at her new family, the one surrounding her, and realized what a true family was about: Support. Love. Kindness.

  The best part was that the charity was using her old house as Rosie House, a place for families to stay while going through cancer treatments in Phoenix.

  And all because of a grandfather with a cold and a keen sense of wisdom when it came to his grandsons and what they needed out of life.

  She still had Cinderella Cleaning, but after some encouragement from Brock she hired more staff and took a step back so that she could focus on Rosie House—something she realized she enjoyed because it was about helping people

  Just like her cleaning business, sometimes you needed to pull back the dirt and muck, to get to what was underneath and make it shine. She wasn’t a cancer expert by any means, but she knew people, and there was something so satisfying about meeting all of the families and helping them on such a basic level.

  “You’re beautiful,” Brock whispered in her ear. His hot kiss had her knees shaking as her body trembled with desire—and he’d only kissed her neck. The man had a mouth on him. She would never get tired of the way he kissed her.

  Honestly, he was her family now—well, him, the twins, and Charles. Her sisters had all but disowned her once the house was sold—she’d tried reaching out but they refused to answer her calls. Brock was convinced it was because they couldn’t handle her fame and success.

  But she didn’t think of herself that way—even if the world did. The headlines after the ball had been insane: REAL LIFE CINDERELLA FINDS HER PRINCE.

  If they only knew what it had taken to get to that place.

  She smiled, thinking about the ranch, and all the animals. They were going to spend the next two weeks there.

  Charles and the twins were coming by for dinner and then returning to the city. It would be nice to have the family all together.

  “You ready?” Brock asked, his eyes dancing with excitement.

  “Yup.” She nodded and took his hand as he led her to the waiting limo.

  Once they were inside and the car had started toward the ranch, Brock turned to her. He handed her a glass of champagne.

  “You left your shoe.”

  “Huh?”

  Brock grinned. “The first time I saw you, you left a shoe; or actually, you broke a shoe.”

  “Like Cinderella.” She grinned.

  “Yes.” He held up his hand then reached behind him and pulled something out of a bag.

  Jane gasped. “That’s my black shoe!”

  “Size eight and a half black pump. Yes, it sure is.”

  “You kept it?” Her eyes filled with tears. “Why?”

  He smirked. “I’d like to say it’s because I knew this moment was happening and I wanted to get laid in the back of a limo.”

  She smacked him in the chest.

  “But I was cleaning out the closet, and found it. I’d stashed it there after I’d slept with it like a complete ass and dreamed about your hair.”

  Jane sighed happily. “That’s romantic.”

  “There is nothing romantic about sleeping with a stiletto.” He grinned. “But maybe this will make up for it.” He handed h
er the shoe.

  Inside was a small pale blue box.

  Tears filled her eyes as she grabbed the box and slowly opened it.

  A giant, princess-cut diamond shimmered back at her.

  It was huge.

  Bigger than her fist.

  Okay, maybe not that big, but at least a few karats. She swallowed a lump in her throat as Brock pulled the ring from the box and whispered. “You left your shoe, and took my heart with you that night, and you’ve had it ever since… Will you marry me?”

  “Yes!” Tears streamed down her face as she threw her arms around his neck and sobbed.

  The limo came to a stop and then the doors were opening on all sides.

  “Thank God!” Bentley shouted, shoving his way into the limo. He looked like he was already drunk. An expression of pure irritation marred his features before he straightened and said, “If you didn’t hurry I was going to propose.” He licked his lips and winked at Jane. “Someone’s looking good.” His smile looked forced—it didn’t help that his normally perfect features were marred by dark circles under his eyes.

  Brock groaned.

  Brant piled in next, followed by Charles.

  “Champagne for everyone!” Brant shouted while Charles chuckled and kissed her on the cheek.

  “You guys all knew?” she said accusingly.

  “I wrote his speech,” Bentley claimed, stealing the champagne from Brant.

  “He lies,” Brant yawned. “Also, the cock died.”

  All talking ceased in the limo.

  “Because it crossed the road.” Brant burst out laughing. “Yeah, I may be drunk already.”

  Well, that explained things. Somewhat.

  No matter what the twins did, they were always still getting into trouble, though Bentley had been worse lately, and constantly in the papers for sleeping with married women.

  His last conquest had been a senator’s wife.

  Something was going on with Bentley, but every time she asked Brock about it, it just seemed to make him sad, like his brother had finally lost it. And Brock and Bentley were doing anything they could to get Brant out of the house and smiling again.