The Winning Bid: The Auction Series, Book 1

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The Winning Bid: The Auction Series, Book 1 Page 10

by Windsor, Michelle


  She laughed at that. “My name is made up, Drew.”

  “Ah, yes. I guess that makes it even easier then, doesn’t it?” he responded in kind.

  “I suppose so,” she said. “But that means we have to come up with something for you now, doesn’t it?”

  “I already thought of the perfect name.”

  “Oh, I can’t wait. Please, tell me how I should address you this evening—besides Master, of course.”

  He responded in a forced Southern accent, “Why Miss Scarlett, I’m surprised you even have to ask.”

  She immediately caught the reference. Was he really going to pick the name Rhett? Could he possibly know why she had picked the name Scarlett as her alternate identity? The mounting coincidences left her mind reeling.

  Hiding her bewilderment, she simply responded in her best Southern drawl. “Why Mr. Butler, I do declare, this might actually be a fun evening after all!”

  They both laughed and finally, the heavy mood that had started their evening seemed to lighten.

  “I’ve never been to a masquerade party before. Have you?”

  “Yes, several actually.” He glanced at her and winked. “But this is the first one I’ve actually looked forward to in quite some time. I think perhaps the company helps.”

  “Why thank you, kind Sir.” She blushed as she replied, warmed by the fact that he seemed to want to be with her as much as she wanted to be with him.

  “That’s actually the reason Domme Maria allowed me to bring you off of the estate this evening. She knew your identity would be safe. Do you feel better about attending now?” he asked quietly.

  “It’s not that I ever minded going. I just would have liked to be asked. That’s all.”

  “Well, I’m grateful you said yes.” He motioned out the window to her. “We’re here.”

  He pulled the car into the long circular drive of a hotel and waited in a line of cars for the valet. As the valet approached, Drew stepped out of the car and grabbed something from the backseat. He took a ticket from the young man, then walked around to her side of the car, opening the door and holding out one hand to assist her.

  She rose up gracefully before him. With her heels on, she was much taller than normal and could almost look him in the eyes now. Well, maybe his lips. But that wasn’t such a bad view either. Before she could help herself, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to them.

  “I’m sorry we fought in the car,” she said as she pulled away from him. “I didn’t mean to make you angry.”

  He smiled back at her, his eyes crinkling. “You do seem to do that a lot, don’t you?”

  He leaned down and kissed her this time and then whispered in her ear, “But you also seem to have a way of making me forget all about it moments later.”

  “Here, turn around; I have to put your mask on before we go inside.”

  “Wait, can I see it first?” she asked eagerly.

  “Of course. I forgot you hadn’t seen it. Marco had these made for us as well.”

  He held out a mask for her perusal. It was breathtaking. Black silk had been woven together to create beautiful swirls around the eyeholes, swooping up over the eyes like feathers. The same diamonds that were sewn onto her dress has also been scattered over the mask. The ties were made of delicate black lace woven tightly together to allow them to be tied more easily.

  “Oh, Drew, it’s lovely. Will you put it on?” She looked up at him adoringly as she handed the mask back to him.

  “With pleasure.” He carefully placed it on her face, lining up the eyes properly before wrapping the lace straps around her head and tying it in place.

  “Is it comfortable?”

  “Yes, it feels perfect. Do you need help with yours?” But he was already tying his mask into place. His was a much simpler mask, made of a solid black piece of silk cut into a standard eye-mask shape. The blue of his eyes stood in such contrast to the black of the mask, making him look more handsome than she thought possible.

  He held his arm out to her, his terrible Southern accent appearing again. “All right, Miss Scarlett, if you’re ready, I’ll escort you in.”

  She settled her arm into the crook of his, leaning into him as they walked. She liked feeling the warmth that always seemed to radiate from him. In moments, they were being ushered into a huge ballroom within the hotel. Its grandeur was something to behold. Large, round tables lined the perimeter of the room. Each table was covered in sapphire-colored tablecloths, and held eight place settings, silverware gleaming and crystal sparkling. The floral centerpieces on each table consisted of beautiful white orchids that scented the entire ballroom. The center of the room was kept clear for a dance floor, and the front of the room held a stage on which an orchestra played. She gazed around at the opulence in wonder and couldn’t believe that she was actually attending this event.

  The room was quite loud, as most of the guests were arriving, so Drew had to lean down close to her ear to be heard. “Would you like something to drink?”

  She smiled back and nodded. “Champagne, please.”

  “Come this way.” He kept her arm in the crook of his and guided her to a table almost at the front of the stage. Two place cards there read “Mr. & Mrs. Rhett Butler.” He pulled out her chair for her as she stared at him, openmouthed.

  “Stay here, I’ll be right back with drinks.” He winked at her through his mask and was gone.

  She watched in awe as so many beautiful people moved around, chatting and drinking and finding their seats. She tried to count the tables in the room, doing the math at twenty-five hundred a head to see just how much this shindig was bringing in. She didn’t think she could ever get used to living in a world where money flowed this freely. What she could do with the five thousand dollars Drew had paid for these seats . . .

  He was suddenly back, a champagne flute in each hand. Other people were now starting to arrive at their table, and she wasn’t sure how she was expected to interact with them. Drew sat down beside her, placing her drink in front of her. As if he could sense her nervousness, he leaned over and whispered into her ear, “Just be yourself.”

  She wasn’t quite sure what that meant. “Herself” was Hannah. To him, she was Scarlett. So, she just plastered a smile on her face and made small talk with the woman seated to her left about the flowers and her dress. When she looked up, the entire table was full. Drew seemed to know the gentleman sitting across from him and was deep in conversation. Hmm, so much for being incognito. A waiter walked by with a tray of champagne, so she waved him over and exchanged her empty glass for a full one. It was so delicious she could hardly help it if the first one went down so easily.

  She felt Drew’s hand rest on her thigh, and then his fingers slowly inching the fabric of her dress up her leg. When it was high enough, his hand slid onto her bare thigh and rested there, his fingers slowly rubbing back and forth. She glanced around the table nervously, hoping no one could see her raised skirt. Just how far north was his hand going to go? As if he could read her mind, his hand started trailing farther up her leg, Drew still deep in conversation with the man across the table as though nothing was happening.

  Before things could go much further, she dropped her free hand discreetly under the table and placed it over his, squeezing it in warning. As a rebuttal, he pinched the inside of her leg, quick and hard. She cried out in surprise. What the hell! The guests closest to her turned their heads toward her. Drew turned as well and, wearing the slightest of grins, asked, “Are you all right, darling?”

  She laughed shakily and addressed the guests at the table. “Sorry, I accidently stepped on my own foot under the table.”

  She picked up her champagne and, tipping the glass back, finished it off. Drew’s hand was continuing its journey north, and she knew now that trying to stop him was useless. She raised her hand again to signal the waiter for another glass of champagne, who brought it immediately.

  His lips were suddenly at her ear, murmuring. “I wouldn�
�t have that third glass of champagne, Scarlett. You haven’t eaten in quite some time and I wouldn’t want you to lose control.”

  His innuendo was more than clear. Just because she could, eyes locked with his, she picked up the glass of champagne and took a big sip. He raised his eyebrows and tipped his head at her brazen rebuttal, his fingers still moving up her leg until they were at the apex of her thighs. Only a scrap of material covered it as Marco had insisted she could only wear the thong he’d provided to avoid visible panty lines. Drew’s finger ran over her pussy before she felt just the slightest bit of pressure on her clit.

  She instantly tried to shut her legs, but Drew leaned into her as if to kiss her, instead growling in her ear, “Open your legs, Scarlett. Now.”

  She turned her head to him, eyes wide, silently trying to appeal to his senses, but he was having none of it. He worked his hand further between her legs, laying his palm flat against her mound, and continued rubbing his middle and forefinger up and down against her clit. The movement instantly brought heat to her core, and her nipples tightened under the silk lining of her dress. She again brought her hand discreetly under the table, placing it on Drew’s forearm, and again tried to stop him before anyone else noticed what he was doing.

  He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Your pussy is hot to the touch. Are you sure you want me to stop?”

  She turned her head to him and was barely able to whimper, “Please.”

  He grinned wickedly at her. “Please what? Is that a yes or a no?”

  “Please stop or you’ll make me come right here,” she ground out, lips smiling, teeth gritted.

  “Oh, what I wouldn’t do to see that.” His blue eyes were gleaming under his mask, matching the devilish look on his face, but he complied with her request and slowly slid his hand from between her legs and out of her skirt. Instead of placing his hand back on the table though, he brought his fingers to his nose and inhaled deeply. He watched as her eyes widened in shock.

  “Have I told you how delicious you smell?” He was leaning close to her and talking low enough that no one could hear their conversation. She nodded hotly, any part of her face not hidden by her mask no doubt flushed a deep pink.

  “I cannot wait to taste you later.” And then he actually popped his fingers into his mouth, sucking on them as he slowly withdrew them, his gaze locked on hers.

  A chuckle escaped him as she leaned away and gulped down more champagne, her eyes darting around the table.

  “Am I interrupting?” A deep voice questioned from behind them as a large hand clasped onto Drew’s shoulder.

  A wide smile stretched across Drew’s face as he stood up and embraced the man in a tight hug. “Benny! You’re here! How did you find me?”

  Hannah quickly appraised the new arrival. He was about the same height as Drew but bulkier, packed with a lot of muscle. He was wearing a tuxedo very similar to Drew’s but with a standard black bow tie and no mask. His blue eyes reminded her of Drew’s, but Ben’s equally dark hair was cut much closer to the scalp. Brothers then, had to be. Unlike his brother, when she looked into Benny’s eyes, she saw something in them she recognized: grief, anger, exhaustion.

  “Please, you’re my brother. You don’t think I know you, even with a mask on? And don’t call me Benny. You know I hate that.”

  “I know, that’s why I do it.” Drew laughed and turned toward her. “Ben, meet Scarlett, my date.”

  She stood and turned to face Drew’s brother, extending her hand. Instead of shaking it, he grasped it gently, leaning in close and kissed her on the cheek before letting go. “Scarlett. Very nice to meet you.”

  He turned toward Drew, head tilted toward Scarlett. “This is a nice surprise.” And then he turned his attention back to her. “I hope he’s being nice to you. We were beginning to wonder if he remembered how to date.”

  She raised an eyebrow at him, wondering just how much about his brother he actually knew, but mustered a polite laugh. “Of course, nothing but a gentleman. It’s very nice to meet you.”

  Upon closer inspection, she noticed he was also holding a cane—part of his ensemble?

  “Didn’t Drew tell you?” he asked.

  “Tell me what?”

  He raised his left pant leg, exposing a titanium rod fitted into his dress shoe. “I’m a gimp.”

  She was startled by his bluntness. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

  “Ben, stop embarrassing her,” Drew admonished, then to her, “He likes to make people feel as uncomfortable about it as he does.”

  Instead of being uncomfortable though, she saw red. “You were in the Middle East, right? Drew did mention that.” Venom laced her tone.

  “Yes, for three years. Until this.” He banged the cane against his metal leg, his anger and frustration over his situation evident.

  “Be glad you came home at all. Some people don’t. Think about that instead of feeling sorry for yourself,” she seethed.

  Both men drew back in surprise at her harsh response.

  “You think I—” Ben started to respond angrily, but Drew interjected, “Okay, why don’t we go get you a drink, Ben?”

  Drew started ushering Ben toward the bar but not before turning back and glaring at her in confusion. “Stay there.”

  Her pulse was beating fiercely, but she did as he requested and sat back down in her seat. She took a sip of her champagne to calm herself, wishing she had something stronger to drink.

  A few minutes of quiet fuming later, the music suddenly stopped, the lights throughout the room dimmed, and the crowd quieted. Only the lights illuminating the stage in front of her remained bright. Then Drew walked across the stage to the podium in the center. What is he doing up there? At the podium, he adjusted the microphone and began to speak. She realized he had taken his mask off.

  “Ladies and gentleman, I want to welcome you all to the second annual GetVetsSet Charity Masquerade Ball. As many of you know, this is a cause that is extremely personal to me. My brother, Benjamin Sapphire, was an infantryman in the army, supporting our country’s efforts in Baghdad, when the vehicle he was in struck an IED. Two men, Ben’s brothers in arms, died as a result, and Ben lost his left leg below the knee.”

  Drew took a deep breath, looked down at the podium for a moment and then cleared his throat before continuing.

  “Over time, and with a lot of help from many doctors and nurses, Ben’s external injuries were treated and healed. But there were internal injuries that we didn’t know how to fix, ones we couldn’t see, but that every soldier coming home, injured or not, experiences. Not until my brother almost took his life did he get the help and support he needed.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. She’d misjudged Ben and his attitude at his injury and felt regret at the way she had spoken to him. She turned her focus back to Drew, understanding fully the struggle he must have felt over his brother’s plight.

  There was a long pause before he continued, “Twenty-two. Twenty-two seems like a comparatively small number, right?”

  Drew looked out over the crowd, shaking his head in disgust as the passion in his voice increased.

  “Well, that’s the number of soldiers that commit suicide every day. Twenty-two mothers, fathers, wives, brothers, sisters, sons and daughters that have to struggle with the death of their loved one. When you add that up, it’s a staggering loss. One that we hope our organization, GetVetsSet, will help to eliminate entirely.”

  A loud round of applause echoed throughout the ballroom. She stared in awe at Drew and this side of him that she had no idea how to reconcile with the rest. They had far more in common than either of them were probably aware of. Drew waved at the crowd to quiet them again.

  “At GetVetsSet, we have created programs to help veterans regain their mental, physical and emotional well-being. And tonight, each one of you, through your generous donations, has helped us raise just over one million dollars to continue building programs and supporting our veterans. I’ll
personally be matching that donation with another million. Thank you so much. Please give yourself a big round of applause and enjoy the rest of your evening. You’ve earned it!”

  The room broke out in a loud roar of applause and cheers as Drew made his way offstage, down a set of stairs. It was then that she saw Ben standing at the bottom of them. Drew pulled him into a tight embrace, holding him for a long moment and speaking something into his ear before letting go and walking away.

  Hannah was forced to look away when plates full of food appeared before her, and she lost track of Drew in the crowd milling at the foot of the stage. She didn’t want to start without him and searched the stage area, then the bar for him, but didn’t see him. She’d just turned back in her seat and was taking a sip of her champagne when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Ben. She stood instantly, wanting to apologize for her earlier actions.

  “Ben, I’m sorry if I spoke rudely to you before. It’s just that—” Hannah started, but he stopped her with a raised hand.

  “Forget about it. I don’t know your story and you don’t know mine.” He ran a hand through his short hair, baring a tattoo that edged from under his shirtsleeve onto the top of his hand: a black rose with a gold oak leaf. The familiarity of it sent goose bumps across her arms. If she raised his sleeve, the words “Never Forget” would be scripted above the rose.

  She looked at him curiously, dragging her gaze away from the tattoo. “I’d like to hear your story sometime.”

  He scoffed. “Yeah, maybe another time. Right now, Drew wants you to meet him on the terrace.” Ben pointed toward a set of curtained glass doors to the side of the stage and then walked away, using his cane as support, not waiting for her response. She made her way to the terrace doors, stepped through and closed them behind her.

  Drew stood quietly in the shadows as he watched Scarlett make her way across the terrace. A light breeze swirled around her, the skirt of her dress flowing behind her as she seemed to glide over the marble stones. He wondered about the sharp reaction she’d had toward Ben and what had triggered it. There must be a story there to evoke such a response from her.

 

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