by Kit Tunstall
The last of the two bidders exchanged a glance, and Number Thirteen put down his sign with a rueful shake of his head. “That’s twenty-five thousand to Number Eighty-Four, going once, twice…sold.” She banged the little hammer on the gavel she’d been given by the chairman of the board just for the occasion.
“Five million,” said a new voice from the doorway of the ballroom.
She stiffened in shock, trying to make out the person who had offered such an outrageous bid for Gretchen. She was appreciative of the numbers, but the bidding was over. “I’m sorry, but the bidding has ended for an evening with Gretchen. She was also our last participant, so the auction part of this evening is over, sir.”
He strode briskly through the crowd, and as he grew closer, she found it increasingly difficult to breathe. The man had a large frame, solidly built shoulders, narrow waist, and a perfectly formed face that could have been on the cover of magazines detailing male perfection. His light-blond hair was an interesting contrast to his almost-black eyes. He stopped a few feet from the stage, hands planted on his hips, and looked up at her with an air of challenge.
“I wasn’t bidding on Gretchen. I’m bidding five million for an evening with you.”
***
The woman was stunned by his words. Olivia, he reminded himself, having read her name on the sign outside the ballroom, announcing her as the emcee of the event. His bear was growling in his head, telling him to grab the woman from the stage and hide her somewhere no one else could see their mate.
He was of half a mind to agree with his bear, but the civilized side of himself understood the impracticality of doing so. Not only would he alienate his mate with such actions, but he would embarrass his brother Kingston as well, along with ruining the charitable event. Instead, he’d have to hold his breath and hope she accepted his bid. If not, he’d find another way to pursue and persuade her, but this was the most expeditious.
It had been a shock to be walking past the ballroom and catch her scent. Neither he nor his bear had been expecting to find their mate under such circumstances, but as soon as he’d smelled her, he’d known she belonged with them. It hadn’t taken him long to come up with this idea, though he’d hovered in the background and the doorway, waiting for the auction’s end so he could make his bid on her.
She was clearly flustered for a moment, her pale cheeks looking almost scarlet under a light sheen of makeup. She ran a shaky hand through the black hair pinned neatly atop her head, and his mouth watered at the sight as he wondered how long the strands would be when she unpinned her hair. Would they be long enough to completely cover his pillow, or hang down in his face as she rode him? He was getting ahead of himself, but he couldn’t seem to rein in the thoughts parading through his head, all of them erotic.
After a moment, Olivia cleared her throat. “That’s very flattering, but I’m not up for auction.”
“Six million.” There were gasps all around him, including the loudest one from Olivia. He knew his was easily the highest bid of the night. Only the basketball player from Philadelphia had topped a million up to this point. He wanted his mate to know how much she was worth to him.
She licked her lips, looking torn. “Well, uh, I hadn’t planned to participate in the auction, but I can’t turn away a donation like that. Sold,” she said with a weak smile as she tapped the hammer gently against the wood.
His bear purred in satisfaction, and he wanted to join him. Instead, he stood off to the side and waited for her to wrap up the rest of the auction so he could get some of her time to arrange their date.
She was clearly reluctant, but he gave her points for trying to hide it after she had finished emceeing and approached him. Her smile was a little shaky, but her lavender-blue eyes revealed no hint of reluctance as she walked toward him. When she was within touching distance, she held out her hand. “I’m Olivia Thornton, and I guess I’m your date for the evening.”
“Actually, you’re my date for different evening, at least according to the auction details on the board by the door.” He winked at her as he gently reminded her he had paid for an evening away from the crowd, where her attention focused solely on him.
She licked her lusciously full lips. “I appreciate you wanting to make a donation to the fund, Mr.…?”
“Jensen Meade,” he filled in for her.
“Mr. Meade, but you can do so discreetly, or even anonymously. You really don’t have to go to the pretense of having a date with me to share money with the foundation.”
He grinned at her, wondering if it was as predatory as he suddenly felt. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he wanted to hunt her down and catch her, and this felt exactly like that. “Your foundation is important, and they do good things, but I bid six million dollars to have an evening with you, not to support your foundation. What kind of evening do I get for my money?”
She was frowning at him now. “You’re the winning bid, so you get to design the evening. Just tell me when and where to show up for a night of appropriate conversation and companionship.”
He laughed gently at her subtle reminder that he had only purchased a date with her and nothing else. “In that case, leave the planning to me. I doubt you want me to know your home address, so I’ll send a car to pick you up from your office at six p.m. on Friday.”
She looked like she wanted to argue, but she closed her mouth and nodded instead. “Of course, Mr. Meade.”
His eyes twinkled as he leaned just a bit closer, though not close enough to be inappropriate or invading her personal space. “Call me Jensen. I’m looking forward to Friday.”
She barely blinked at all when she said, “Likewise.”
He laughed again, doing his best to rein in his bear, who was urging him to touch her silky soft skin to find out if it was as smooth as it looked and to bury his nose in the crown of her hair to inhale her scent. He didn’t need to get so close to do so, having already memorized it from the moment he detected a hint of it while passing the ballroom, but he yearned to be able to do as his bear urged. “I think you’re lying to me, but I’ll let you for now. I promise you’ll have a good time Friday, in spite of yourself.”
She smiled at him, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m certain I’ll have a wonderful time, Mr. Me—Jensen. You’re a valuable donor to the charity, and it’s my job to make sure you have a good time.”
He winced at the reminder that she wasn’t voluntarily going to dinner with him. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but it was the best he’d been able to come up with on the spur-of-the-moment, and the only solution that had satisfied his bear enough to rein in the crazy idea of snatching her from the ballroom and running away. “I hope you’ll enjoy yourself, and it will be more than just a job.” He glanced at his watch, realizing he was going to be late for dinner with Kingston and Grace. He hoped his brother would understand and cut him a little slack. “I have to go now, but I won’t forget about Friday.” He said it with a hint of warning.
She let out a long sigh. “Of course you won’t.”
He was unable to still the impulse to lift her hand, bringing it in his mouth to ghost his lips over her knuckles. He was pleased by the way she shuddered at the touch, her eyelids dropping to half-mast. She might not want to, but she clearly felt the attraction too. “Until Friday.” Somehow, he made himself release her hand and step back, knowing they both had prior commitments for the evening ahead, but he would ensure Friday night belonged to just the two of them. It was the first night of the rest of their lives, even if she didn’t know it yet.
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About Kit Fawkes
Kit Fawkes is the pen name Kit Tunstall uses when writing steamy paranormal (especially shifter) romances. It’s simply a way to separate the myriad types of stories she writes so readers know what to expect with each “author.”
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Author Bio
Kit Tunstall lives in Idaho with her husband and two sons. She enjoys writing several genres and subgenres, but almost everything she writes has a strong romantic element. A fan of post-apocalyptic, zombie, and dystopian books, she prefers to read or view such stories from the comfort of her living room and never, ever in person.
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