* * *
GOING…GOING…WED
Amy J. Fetzer
~Silhouette Desire #1265~
* * *
* * *
Contents:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
Epilogue
* * *
* * *
Chapter 1
^»
"Well, I bet this is a first."
Madison Holt stood still as her friend Katherine arranged the beaded gown around her ankles. Tinkling crystal and murmurs of conversation filtered through the curtain hiding her from the guests assembled in the lavish, stone garden.
"What's that, sugah?"
"The oldest living virgin auctioned off to the highest bidder, and it isn't even my virtue that's up for sale."
Something close to a snicker sounded behind her, and Madison twisted as Katherine straightened and faced her, giving her that Davenport smile, the one that preceded her dignified Southern delivery that usually cut the strongest men off at the knees.
"White slavery is frowned upon in Savannah." Absently Katherine adjusted the thin, beaded strap on Madison's bare shoulder. "But if you prefer, I can put your virtue on the block for the auction?"
"It is a thought." Might be the only way she'd lose it, Madison thought, before she reached twenty-five.
"Of course there would be a riot, I'm afraid."
Madison folded her arms over her middle and cocked her hip. "A rush of men? I don't think so."
Katherine pulled her arms apart with a warning look. "No. Women."
Madison's brows rose questioningly.
"I bet there isn't a single virgin out there." Katherine inclined her head to the velvet curtain. "And you know how they don't like being upstaged."
"Perish the thought," Madison said, her nervous stomach easing a bit.
But Katherine recognized her apprehension. "You can walk away right now, sugah. I won't force you to do something you don't want to do. Especially when it's my company that's donating an employee's time to this charity auction."
"No, I agreed. I'm here, in this gorgeous gown—"
"—which looks better on you than it ever did on me."
Madison glanced down at the borrowed plum-colored gown, hugging her figure like a second skin. It made her look like a mermaid. She was afraid to move in it or flop like a dead flounder on the stage. "I still don't see why I needed to dress like this."
"Packaging."
"Showing my breasts off like NASCAR trophies hardly speaks for my ability to whip up a balanced meal in twenty minutes."
Katherine blinked. "You can really do that, can't you? In twenty minutes?" Madison nodded cautiously, catching the admiration in her voice. "I can't get out of the shower and dressed in less that thirty."
Because Katherine never had to do it, Madison thought. But when the push was there, she thought, people did things they didn't normally consider. Like this.
Allowing herself to be displayed for auction.
Whoever bought the services of Wife Incorporated received a week of paid domestic service. It was Katherine who lost money by the donation. But then, God bless her generous heart, Katherine could afford to lose it.
Madison couldn't. It's why she'd agreed, even though she already had another part-time job. That and the double pay.
Madison gestured to the curtain. "Tell them I'll swap a hog for a clean house. Nothing under a hundred pounds dressed out, though. I don't want to look cheap."
Katherine rolled her eyes, smiling. "Not a chance, honey. Dress or not." She nodded to the X on the floor. "Take your place. It's show time."
Madison's stomach clenched again, yet she stepped center stage behind the curtain leaning as Katherine bussed her cheek, then smiling when she rubbed away the lipstick smudge. Madison released a slow breath. Beyond the velvet curtain stood the cream of Savannah society. Anyone who lived north of Gaston Street
, she thought with a smirk. They were dining on caviar canapés and sipping expensive champagne, waiting.
To make a bid on her.
She didn't think a clean house and home-cooked meals were going to make a difference to the affluent of Savannah. They'd likely bid and never use the certificate. Or maybe give it away. Madison didn't care. It was easy money as far as she was concerned.
"I know you don't like being displayed like this, sugah," she said in a loud whisper, and Madison glanced to her right. "And frankly it gets my garters in a twist, but the committee—"
"It's all right, Kat. And I'd simply die if your garters got twisted."
Katherine winked. "You're a peach, sister. Just pray Alexander Donahue doesn't get some wild notion to bid on you."
Madison's tapered brows shot up. Savannah's wealthiest most-eligible-and-meaning-to-stay-that-way bachelor needing a wife for hire? It was almost laughable. He had a notorious reputation of never staying with a woman for more than a date or two, and since Katherine's late husband and Alexander Donahue were once partners, Madison knew there was more than a little truth to the rumors and speculation surrounding the man. And the reason behind his cavalier attitude was a well-kept secret.
"Why haven't you ever introduced me to him?" Come to think of it, Madison realized, Kat went out of her way to see that their paths never crossed.
"What kind of friend would I be, throwing my dearest pal to a—"
"Wolf?"
"He has a bit more subtlety than that. You've nothing to worry about. Your kind scares him."
The auctioneer mentioned the next "item" up for bid.
"Then we'll probably see his smoke trail when he hightails it out of here first chance."
Katherine smiled agreement, then slipped beyond the drapes. The crowd applauded.
Dismissing Donahue from her mind, Madison briefly closed her eyes. Oh, Lord a'mighty, she thought. If Daddy could see me now.
The curtain peeled open.
Applause splattered the sultry air, and Madison smiled brightly, scanning the crowd. Crystal stemware sparkled, white-jacketed waiters bearing silver trays moved between the clusters of elegantly dressed people. She didn't know a single one. She didn't travel in those circles. Not anymore. I bet not one of them could toss a shrimp net, she thought, absorbing the sea of white dinner jackets and glittering evening gowns. The last time she saw that many sequins it was a corporate party in the Trump Tower. Her practical side thought briefly of how many people could live on the price of her borrowed gown alone. Though incredibly glamorous, it seemed like such a flagrant waste of money. Madison didn't hate the rich, yet she disliked anyone who just hid inside their restored mansions and threw money around to make the problems go away. Katherine was here to see that they threw it in all in the right places.
"After Kevin passed away," Katherine was saying to the audience, and Madison heard the catch in her sorority sister's voice, "I was left with plenty of money but few marketable skills, except how to dress properly and throw a great party. Like this one y'all are enjoying."
The crowd laughed agreement, but Madison knew Katherine had an MBA in business. How did they think she got this far?
"Yet it made me see there were other people out there in the same predicament, whose skills were going to waste because they were most useful with a marriage license. Wife Incorporated employs mostly women to fill in for anyone who needs those special, and often unrecognized, talents – household organization, grocery shopping, cooking, housekeeping, kid wrangling, sometimes a replacement mother for a vacationing couple, a wedding coordinator or a hostess for a party, a temporary wife for a divorcé or widower trying to get his life back together."
Madison tipped her head to smile at Katherine, infinitely proud of her sorority big sister. As she had when they were in col
lege, she'd taken the best from bad situations and made them flourish.
"All Wife Incorporated employees are bonded, trained in infant and adult CPR, emergency first aid and self-defense."
The crowd murmured approval.
Madison and Katherine exchanged a smile forged over years of friendship.
Then the auctioneer stepped up to the podium.
* * *
Alex would have bid on her for her face alone.
She took his breath away. Far away. And instantly she intrigued him. Perhaps it was her sable-brown hair coiled loosely at her crown and giving her a sexy, disheveled look – a little free spirit in the middle of tight-laced society. Or the slight disdain in her round cognac eyes as she scanned the attendees. Or the strappy deep-plum-colored gown, saturated with bugle beads, heavy and shaping her every curve. And showing all the really good ones, he thought with pure male appreciation.
Maybe it was that no matter how incredibly alluring she looked, she was off-limits. Wife material. Though, she didn't look very domesticated right now. She looked almost … wild. A sleek cougar with the longest legs he'd ever seen.
The bidding increased, and Alex twisted to look over his shoulder. Brandon Wilcox. He could see the man had ideas of a French maid costume or seeing the woman vacuuming in the nude. Pathetic.
Cookie Ledbetter strolled closer, leaning to whisper, "This is the third function you've attended with Elizabeth, Alex. Are we looking at the future Mrs. Donahue?"
Elizabeth heard and smiled at him over the rim of her champagne flute before taking a sip.
Alex didn't respond, grinding his teeth, feeling as if dungeon doors were slamming shut. A half dozen people had already mentioned that little fact this evening. "Aren't you bidding, Mrs. Ledbetter?"
Her smile was tight before she glanced at the Wife Incorporated woman. "I prefer my help to be a little older and…"
"Less attractive?"
She tapped his arm, smiling kindly. "Shame on you. There is a good reason I've been married to Harrison for thirty years, young man," she was bold enough to say, her expression dancing with innuendo.
"And here I thought it was those gorgeous blue eyes that kept Harry home, ma'am."
Cookie scoffed, inclining her head to Miss Holt. "One does not leave fresh game before a hunter, Alex. And be careful—" her glance slid meaningfully to Elizabeth Murray standing beside him and her voice lowered "—hell hath no fury like a Southern woman scorned."
Alex arched a brow, nodding, and her deed done for the evening, she swept away like Spanish galleon in full sail.
He looked down at Elizabeth and thought how polished she appeared: her neatly twisted blond hair, her flame-red gown, the exact way she stood holding the fragile crystal flute of champagne. She possessed all the qualities he found attractive in a woman – poise, grace, good conversationalist and, above all, she had no inclination to exchange her social calendar for a marriage license. She'd consider the evening a success if a snapshot of her made the latest edition of the Savannah News Press. And though he realized it was disgustingly shallow, they both understood the parameters. He knew that after this party was over, she'd either want to spend the night with him or be off to another late-night celebration. She did little else with all her family's money. He just didn't want her to sink her teeth into his. Or demand a wedding ring.
That road in his life was closed. Permanently.
Yet Cookie's comments rang in his mind. Though he'd planned to ask Elizabeth's help with hostessing a corporate party for him next week, their relationship would be blown further out of proportion if she did. He didn't want to hurt her feelings, but obviously he needed to do something. Quickly.
His gaze slid to Madison Holt.
If he won the bid for the Wife Incorporated services, he'd have the perfect solution to defuse this matchmaking society. A hostess with no personal connection. And that's what he wanted most. No attachment. No guilt by virtue of association and making uncomfortable excuses. And Madison Holt, simply by being who she was, was forbidden, and that made her a quick, easy solution.
He made eye contact with the auctioneer and nodded, sipping champagne and wishing it was brandy.
"Alex," Elizabeth said from his side. "What do you need a maid for?"
"She's a temporary wife, Liz. And I don't need either." He set his unfinished glass on the tray of a passing servant and caught Katherine's eye. His former partner's widow, elegant in beaded white, moved across the candle-lit garden and warmly kissed his cheek. Elizabeth inched a bit closer, looping her arm through his. Alex gave it only a moment's thought.
"How's business, Alexander?"
He smiled. She was the only person who called him that. "Not as easy on the eyes as yours, apparently. Do all your employees look like that?" He felt Elizabeth's gaze sharpen on him as he nodded to the woman on stage.
"Madison is special." There was a warning in her tone he didn't mistake.
He arched a brow and upped the bid with a slight gesture. Elizabeth's hand tightened on his arm. Katherine smiled and called him a rascal.
Alex twisted slightly to gather flutes of champagne from a waiter's tray and hand one to each woman, forcing Elizabeth to let go. Another bid aired and he heard an indrawn breath. His gaze flew to Madison Holt and stayed there.
Everything in him jumped to life, and when she shifted her feet, the slit in her gown exposing her leg up to midthigh, his entire body tightened. Beautiful legs, muscular. A guy could get ideas, the wrong ones, and he was certainly indulging in a few. It was sexist, displaying her up there, and she looked as if she'd had enough, her gaze flipping from one bidder to the next as if waiting for her execution. She doesn't like this at all, he realized sympathetically and decided to put her out of her misery. He stepped forward and raised the bid a thousand dollars.
"Alexander, no!" Katherine whispered behind him.
He glanced over his shoulder, noting her concern, then shrugged.
Madison choked, and he swung his attention back to her, trapped by her soulful brown eyes. The auctioneer waited for a second bid. None came. The gavel slammed, and his domestic goddess in plum flinched. He stepped up to the stage and offered his hand. She stared at him as if he'd grown antlers.
"I don't bite."
She scoffed. "That's not what I heard."
He arched a brow, a small smile tugging at his lips. A look of pure challenge.
Madison recognized it and met it head-on. She wouldn't give him the chance to bite anything on her, and despite his ruthless reputation in business and with women, she didn't think his expensive palette had a taste for homegrown. If his date was any indication, he was interested only in her domestic capabilities, and that was fine with her. She had no intention of being one of his conquests.
She accepted his hand, his warm fingers wrapping firmly around hers as she walked down the short staircase to the applause of the crowd. He stood close, close enough for her to feel the heat of his body and his slow lingering gaze. Madison told herself it was the display of bosom that made his look feel like a wolf salivating over a potential kill. At least he's living up to his reputation, she thought, immediately pulling free.
Katherine came to her, giving her a warm hug. "Oh, thank you, Maddy. The Boys Club is going to get a resurfaced pool on that one alone."
"You're welcome, sister," she whispered in her ear, and Katherine's hug tightened a bit. They parted, and she faced Alexander.
Madison had seen pictures of him, but the up-close-and-personal version was a different story. She tried not to stare and told herself that almost any man looked good in a tux. Except this man was the only one in the elegant stone garden wearing black. On Alexander Donahue, the dark fabric fit like a glove. There was no mistaking he was in good physical condition, but then, what else did a millionaire have to do all day? Yet she sensed a bit of rebellion in him, for he'd opted for a white band-collared shirt without the bow tie the other men were wearing. No ruffles, no cummerbund, only a low-slun
g, black-and-gold, satin-brocade vest that gave him the air of a Southern gentleman.
He slipped his hand into his trouser pocket, hiking up the jacket and enhancing the image of slow grace and privileged dignity. A lock of jet-black hair slipped down to nearly cover one vivid blue eye.
"You're staring, sir."
"So I am."
Madison stiffened. He acted as if he was sizing her up by some invisible standard, and she had the ungracious urge to slap his handsome face.
He slipped his other hand inside his vest pocket and came back with a business card. With a crisp snap, he flipped it over and held it out to her with two fingers. "Be at this address tomorrow morning at nine."
"Tomorrow evening at six," she said, taking the card.
He scowled, a hint of savagery under all that refinement, and she understood why people rarely denied him. She was waiting for the fangs to appear.
"I'm only available during the evenings and weekends, sir. Or did you fail to read the brochure?" She gestured to the slick tri-fold brochures littering nearly every table.
He didn't bother to look. "Apparently," he murmured, and Madison felt his gaze shift over her. It left a smoldering trail.
"If that's not acceptable, then perhaps Katherine can replace me with another."
"No, it's fine." Alex needed her to get started, quickly. The invitations were already out, and he was a little anxious to see if this beauty could do all they claimed. The last thing she looked capable of was anything remotely domestic. "I'm having a party for fifty."
She didn't bat a lash.
"I'll expect you to arrange the catering."
She simply stared.
"And attend as the hostess."
She nodded.
"I assumed you'd want me to hostess that, darling," Elizabeth said as she appeared by his side, lacing her arm through his.
Madison looked on expectantly, waiting for him to change his mind.
"Never assume," Alex said icily, and Elizabeth stiffened. "And I have to make use of this charitable donation, don't I? Besides—" He patted Liz's hand, the gesture bone dry of sympathy, "you're a guest."
GOING … GOING … WED! Page 1