Loving the Bastard

by Marteeka Karland

  Fuck that shit!

  But getting her back was going to be hell. She wouldn’t answer his calls, she wouldn’t answer her door, and she wasn’t at work. He knew she’d holed up, but decided against an actual invasion of her privacy. Patience had always been his strong suit. Now would be no different.

  When he heard about the fundraiser for one of the local women’s shelters, Max knew he had her. It was the shelter adjacent to the Y where she tutored her kids. There was no way Zeta wouldn’t be there.

  Even as much as he needed to find Zeta, to get her back, Max wanted to be anywhere but where he was. He’d gone to the charity event stag, but it seemed like every fucking ex-girlfriend he’d ever had was there. Hanging all over him. Grinding his teeth, he continued to survey the room. The only woman he wanted to see was conspicuously absent. Max knew Zeta would be here, but where the hell was she? He was just about to say fuck it and snag Samson to help him actively hunt for Zeta when he spotted her…and lost his breath.

  Zeta wore a dress of deep scarlet that hugged every single mouthwatering curve she had. Walking through the crowd of wealthy businessman, she was like a beacon of everything any of them could ever dream of in a woman. The dress stopped at mid-thigh, and the straps were made of braided gold. When she turned, Max nearly groaned aloud. The material swayed low on her back, nearly revealing the dimples at the base of her spine. More braided straps ran across her shoulders, the middle of her back, and just above the base of her spine. Stiletto heels with thin straps around her ankles completed the look and accentuated every muscle in her long, shapely legs to perfection. A cascade of curls dropped over one shoulder where she’d pulled her wealth of long, lustrous hair to one side. Every male eye in the place seemed to in her, and Max didn’t blame them. She was simply stunning.

  “Max, have you been listening to a word I’ve said?” The tall, thin blonde currently hanging on his arm pouted prettily. He’d dated her briefly, but she’d gotten clingy in a big way. At the time Max remembered thinking there wasn’t a woman in the world who could tempt him that much, least of all this one. Well, at least he was right about part of it. Charleen definitely didn’t tempt him. Zeta, on the other hand, did more than merely tempt him. She’d bewitched him into needing her more than he needed air to breathe. She’d brought warmth into his heart, shown him how life should be lived. Zeta had forced him out of his shell, showed him how to care about a little scrap of a boy living in poverty, and taught Max how to love. The revelation was like a blow to the head. His ears rang as if he really had been clocked.

  “Max!”

  Charleen clung to his arm like she owned him, demanding his full attention when all Max wanted to do was untangle himself and get to Zeta. “If you’ll excuse me, Charleen, I see someone I need to talk to.”

  Before he could untangle himself from Charleen, another woman—LeAnne—sidled up to him, running her palm up his shirtfront to rest on his chest. “I hear you’re offering yourself up at the auction tonight,” she purred in her contralto voice. Max could vaguely remember finding her slightly husky voice sexy at one time, but now the sound grated on his nerves. The woman was a natural redhead with nearly flaming orange hair and a wealth of freckles he’d also found erotic as hell. Now, all he could think about was unblemished milk chocolate skin he longed to lick from top to bottom…and every place in between.

  “Maybe,” he said, his eyes on Zeta as he tried to get away from the two women without making a scene. “I have to go…”

  Just as both women tightened their hold, neither willing to give up her prize, Zeta turned her head. It all seemed to happen in slow motion. Max swore he could see every bounce of every curl on her head. The long sweep of her lashes veiled those soulful dark eyes for the briefest moment before she raised her gaze…and met his almost as if she knew he’d been staring at her.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Until she actually saw the bastard for the first time since she’d left, Zeta hadn’t realized how much she’d missed him. Unfortunately, he seemed to have moved on. Not one, but two women hung all over him, both of them as white as a woman could get. Even still, Zeta was awed by how handsome and dangerously good-looking he was in the expensive tuxedo he wore. Seeing the women clinging to him only reminded her how much he’d hurt her. True, she’d been the one to suggest that marrying a woman of color in this part of the country might not do him any favors in the business community, but hearing him voice it after everything they’d shared together cut like a fucking knife.

  Disgusted at her own traitorous heart, Zeta turned away from him, fully intending to leave when the announcer took the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention. It’s time for the celebrity auction, the portion of our evening that will provide the most support for our cause tonight.”

  A smattering of applause scattered throughout the room along with excited murmurs. Zeta’s heart started to pound as she fumbled in her clutch for the program she’d picked up when she walked in. Sure enough, the last celebrity on the card to be auctioned off, the highlight of the evening, was none other than Maximilian Roth. She could have groaned out loud but had no intention of Max’s harem overhearing. In fact, she didn’t want to be here at all. There was no way she could watch him leave there with one of his blonde bimbos, and there was no way Zeta was shelling out the kind of money it would take to buy his company. At that thought, she nearly laughed. It would almost be poetic justice if she bought him. She remembered thinking those few weeks ago that was exactly what he’d done to her.

  Taking one last swallow of champagne, Zeta turned to go. Damn her heart, anyway. She never should have let herself get involved with a man like Max. She’d been doomed from the very beginning.

  “If I may?”

  Zeta froze. Was that Max at the microphone now? Very slowly, she turned back to the stage. Max stood there, the auctioneer speaking to him with a look on his face as if trying to understand exactly what Max wanted but incapable of believing what he was hearing. Finally, the man nodded, backing away from Max, motioning for him to go ahead with whatever he had in mind.

  “The rest of the auction will go on as scheduled, but I’m making a bit of a change to my involvement.” Max gave the crowd his most charming smile. Then his gaze locked on her. The breath slammed out of Zeta’s lungs.

  The look he gave her was challenging. Daring. Was he calling her out? He certainly wanted her to be there. Was this his way of getting even with her for leaving him? Did he intend to show her exactly what she was missing? Because she already knew. At least, she knew what she’d be missing if he ever decided to stop being a bastard to her.

  “I’m not selling myself for one night. I’m selling myself for a lifetime.” There were excited if confused murmurs all around as Max reached into his pocket and pulled out a small white box. He didn’t open it, but the implication was obvious. He was offering himself…as a husband? What. The. Fuck? “The…lucky…woman to buy my hand will get a lifetime with me and all the quirks that represents. I’m hard to get along with, and more than a little bit of a bastard, but I am confident the right woman, the only woman who can handle me, will dig deep into her purse and purchase me for her partner.” He paused before raising one hand in a “slow down a bit” gesture. “Before you ladies get too excited, let me emphasize that you don’t get to take possession of your merchandise before you pay for me. No thinking I’ll foot the bill once you’ve bid on me. Any amount you bid must be paid for by funds you have available on your person.” Surprisingly, more than one woman looked crestfallen. “The proceeds for this sale—and this sale only—will be split between the women’s shelter and a new facility that will be built to complement both the Y and the shelter. A center for disadvantaged inner city youth education. Not only will this facility have state-of-the-art equipment and the most dedicated, experienced teachers, but the entire area will have enhanced security to benefit not only the education center, but the Y and the shelter as well.” There was a frenzy of flashes
as photographers scrambled to capture the moment. Reporters threw a barrage of questions at Max but he only ignored them, his gaze remaining fixed on Zeta.

  The auctioneer took the mic from Max, clearing his throat. “Well, what a surprise indeed. The first celebrity up for auction will be none other than Maximilian Roth. Not for a night, but for marriage.”

  “What about a prenup?” one woman yelled out. Zeta raised an eyebrow. Indeed. What about a prenup?

  Max merely grinned. “No prenup. As a marriage should be.”

  Zeta’s heart pounded, and she felt more than a little lightheaded. Reaching out to the bar, she steadied herself, trying to breathe through the shock Max had just delivered. There was a message in there for her, only for her. Zeta knew it like she knew her own name. He wanted her to do this, but how? There was no way she could compete with these women with more money than good sense.

  “We’ll start the bidding at fifty thousand—”

  “One hundred thousand!” One of the tall blondes raised her hand, her voice loud as she spoke over the auctioneer.

  “Very well. One hundred thousand for Miss Blythe.”

  “One fifty!” Another woman cried out from across the room. Zeta couldn’t see her, but she was certain it was another tall, willowy blonde. Still, Max’s gaze never wavered from hers.

  The bidding went on and on, women shelling out more money than Zeta could even imagine giving for anything. Still, she looked on helplessly, her gaze wandering back to Max time and time again. He never looked away from her. The bidding had started to lag, apparently no one willing or able to go much above one point five million, when Zeta shook her head, giving him a look that she hoped said “I don’t understand what you want me to do.” Max interrupted the auctioneer again.

  “You can do better than that, ladies. Dig deep…I mean really dig deep into your purses. I know you can come up with more. Now is not the time to prevent credit card abuse.”

  Everything in Zeta stilled. That is, everything but her pounding heart. Then she opened her clutch, furiously digging until she pulled out…

  That goddamned Black Centurion Am-Ex.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  When Zeta hadn’t immediately bid on him, Max’s heart sank. Then she gave him an adorably confused look and it hit him she’d forgotten about the credit card he’d given her. It didn’t take her long to find it though. It was good luck on his part she’d even had it with her. Max had counted on her sense of responsibility, that she wouldn’t let that little piece of plastic out of her possession for fear of it being stolen. It was a gamble he’d won. Well, that and he’d had Samson at the ready with another one in case she hadn’t had it with her.

  The bidding was up to one point seven million when Zeta’s hand flew into the air and she yelled out, “Two million!”

  Excited whispers and murmurs erupted all around, and Max let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Not only was she still interested, she had looked a little desperate before she’d realized she had the means to have him for her own. That could only be a good thing.

  When the bid was raised to two point one mil, Charleen nodded her head, not as confident as she had once been. Charleen had money of her own, but there was no doubt in Max’s mind she had to be getting close to the limit she had on hand. She was possibly the only woman there tonight who could give him a run for his money—literally—but he’d feel better once Zeta started bidding in earnest.

  Sure enough, no sooner had the auctioneer acknowledged Charleen’s bid than Zeta made one of her own. “Three million.”

  Charleen’s lips tightened as she calmly said, “Three point one.”

  “Four,” Zeta said without missing a beat.

  “How the hell do you have four million on hand?” Charleene cried. “I demand someone run her finances before we continue!”

  An official stepped to Zeta, who calmly handed him her card. He swiped the thing on a card reader before handing it back to Zeta and nodding to the auctioneer.

  “I would seem all is well with Miss Lawless’s finances. Shall we continue?”

  “I need time to secure more funds,” Charleen demanded.

  “Everyone knew Mr. Roth would be up for auction, Miss Blythe. If Miss Lawless is able to continue without securing more funds herself, then the auction will continue. Miss Lawless?”

  “Your people have run my card. I’m good to go. Any question at this point is more than a little insulting. If Miss Blythe didn’t come prepared to pay what it takes, then perhaps she should wait for the next round.”

  If Max could have fist-pumped on stage without looking like a dork, he would have. Zeta was taking control of the situation, and she was determined to win. He’d ponder the why of it later. For now, he only hoped it was because she had been as miserable as he’d been, because he was going to let her know exactly how he felt about her. If she didn’t feel the same way, if she didn’t actually love him, he was probably in for a really, really bad night.

  “But I didn’t know the actual terms of the auction! I’d have secured more funds!”

  “Then you’re missing the point of the whole thing,” Zeta said without missing a beat. “If you aren’t prepared to donate the money with no thought of return, perhaps you didn’t need to bid in the first place.”

  “If you knew what was happening before the auction—”

  “I had no more of a clue than anyone else did. It’s just that I spend a lot of time working with kids in this area. I have a legitimate investment in their well-being and the well-being of the community. Any money I could spare I’d already freed for this event.” Zeta shrugged as if she did this kind of thing every day.

  “Then shall we continue?”

  Charleen hissed her disapproval but placed the next bid…which Zeta promptly raised. By another million. Max had never been so glad to watch money slipping through his fingers. Mainly because it meant Zeta was now his. Every luscious, passionate inch of her.

  Finally, with an outraged screech, Charleen stormed from the room empty-handed, and Zeta had won her prize for a paltry eight million. There was loud applause and whistles as Zeta stepped forward to pay. Max had to wait until the transaction was complete when all he wanted to do was rush to Zeta and take her in his arms.

  “Well, well,” she said as she sashayed toward him. “I guess we have quite a bit to discuss.”

  “I think the fact that you bid eight million to have me for your husband speaks for itself. What more is there to discuss?”

  “First of all,” she said, sticking a finger in the middle of his chest, “it was your money. You cheated.”

  “We cheated,” he corrected, not willing to let her deny her part.

  Zeta merely shrugged. “Secondly, you’re a bastard.”

  “I made that perfectly clear at the beginning of the auction. You can’t hold that against me.” When she would have opened her mouth to speak again, Max merely pulled her to him and covered her mouth with his. Immediately cameras clicked and flashed while reporters yelled out questions, not the least of which was “Are you really marrying Miss Lawless?”

  Not letting Zeta out of his embrace, Max pulled the ring from its case. The ruby and diamond setting complemented her dress as if he’d planned it that way. Sliding the ring on her finger was easier than he’d thought and not because it fit perfectly. He wanted this. Wanted Zeta for his wife.

  “Yes,” he answered, looking into her eyes rather than at the mob of reporters. “I’m marrying Zeta Lawless. And I’m never letting her go.”

  “Because of—”

  Again he silenced her with a hard kiss. “Because I realized how much I truly love you. As I see it, it’s my job to make sure you never regret spending eight million dollars on me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Oh, no,” Max said when Zeta would have happily skipped to her suite with Max’s hand firmly in hers. “Not this time.” With a movement so swift she only had time to squeal, Max swooped her
up in his arms and headed up the stairs to his third-floor suite. “I want you in my bed this time.”

  “I’ve still not decided if I’m forgiving you or not,” Zeta said, feeling like she needed to at least try to make him feel bad for the way she’d treated her when all she really wanted to do was get on with the business of them.

  He said nothing else until he pulled her into his bedroom and they stood in front of his bed. Then he framed her face with his big hands and urged her to look him in the eyes. “I swear to you, Zeta, I’ll spend the rest of my life making everything up to you. I was a complete and total ass from the very beginning, and what I said to you that last day was inexcusable.”

  “Well, you went a long way toward making it up to me by pushing through the education center. Did you come up with that all on your own?”

  Instead of reacting as she predicted he would, with anger that she’d suggest his intellect wasn’t what it should be, he grinned. “Well, I had a good incentive. I figured it might make you just a touch grateful. Besides, if you’re going to continue to work with the kids in that part of town, the least I could do was see to it everyone is safe.”

  “Why do I get the feeling you’re not nearly the bastard you want everyone to think you are?”

  “Oh, make no mistake. I’m a really big bastard. I just seem to have a soft spot where you are concerned.”

  “And Trevor?”

  He sighed. “Yeah, and that little scamp, too.”