Читать книгу Tycoon For Auction - Katherine Garbera - Страница 9

Lust wasn’t something Corrine Martin was comfortable admitting she experienced. It didn’t fit with the image she’d carefully cultivated—cool sophistication from the top of her blond head to the toes exposed by her slinky gold sandals. She’d done a good job of ignoring the surging feelings and the man who inspired them—until tonight.

Maybe it was something in his wizard-green eyes. Or maybe it was just that she was tired of having him stare through her as if she wasn’t there. Whatever the reason, tonight she’d thrown caution to the wind and had purchased Rand Pearson for three corporate dates.

Of course, she’d only bid on his services as a corporate spouse. She even had an airtight excuse for doing it. She needed an escort to the upcoming business meetings she’d be expected to attend.

The ballroom at the Walt Disney Dolphin Hotel had been transformed into an old-fashioned buy-a-bride auction. All the money raised tonight would go to the Collation for the Homeless, an Orlando-based charity that fed and sheltered the homeless. This was Corrine’s first year attending. She’d bid on and won the services of Rand Pearson.

Though they’d been working together for the last five months on a training project, she really didn’t know him. He’d been one of only three men on the auctioning block representing the company he was a partner in—Corporate Spouses. The company provided business-etiquette lessons as well as dates for executives for business functions.

Corrine’s boss, Paul Sterling, the CEO of Tarron Enterprises, had won a similar package the year before. Corrine had been Paul’s secretary until his promotion to CEO when Paul had promoted her to a midlevel manager. Corrine loved the challenge her new role provided.

But she needed to show her boss that she wasn’t in danger of becoming one-dimensional and focused only on her job as a middle manager at Tarron Enterprises. And on a more personal level she needed to remind herself that she was still a woman.

Rand Pearson made her feel dangerous and alive. She didn’t like it, but she knew she needed to deal with it and get her life back on track. She had her eye on the vacant vice president position and knew that she’d need to be focused one hundred percent at work.

“Dance with me, Corrine?” Rand asked, coming up to her. His tuxedo was obviously custom-made, making him look like royalty, which, if gossip was true, he’d descended from.

“Why?” she asked. She’d never had any finesse when it came to men. They made her nervous. Probably because of her experiences in foster care during her teen years.

“When a man asks you to dance, Cori, yes or no is the appropriate answer,” he said, with that gleam in his eyes that made her want to do something shocking. Which was how she’d ended up bidding on him.

She sighed and reminded herself that she was known as the ice queen for a very good reason. Life was safer that way. “My name is Corrine. And I know that.”

“Do you?” He slid closer to her in the crowded ballroom. His hand glided up her arm—her bare arm. Why had she listened to Angelica Leone-Sterling, her friend and boss’s wife, and purchased this strapless dress? It wasn’t her, and it made her feel like someone she knew she couldn’t be.

His palm was rough and rasped her skin. Tingles spread up her arm and across her chest, making her nipples tighten against the lace of her strapless bra. She shivered and stepped away from his disturbing touch. He arched one eyebrow but made no comment.

“Yes,” she said at last, knowing only that she needed to do something to take control of the situation before she forgot about her plans. Rand was a stepping-stone to the next level, she reminded herself.

“Shall we dance?” he asked again.

She nodded. His cologne—a spicy, masculine scent—surrounded her as they stepped onto the dance floor and he pulled her into his arms. I’m in charge.

But as his arms came around her and he settled her close against his chest, she didn’t feel like she was in charge. She didn’t want to be. Delicious sensations spread out from the hand he’d placed on the small of her back, radiating throughout her body and making her blood flow heavily through her veins.

She shuddered and tried to break the spell his touch was weaving by looking at him. But his eyes held a lambent gaze that pulled her further under his spell. The slow, sensual sounds of a jazz saxophone filled the room, and then the trio’s lead singer, a tall black woman with a sultry voice, began to sing about wishing on a star.

Corrine had spent her entire childhood wishing for something that had never come. She thought she’d grown beyond that, but the temptation to rest her cheek on Rand’s shoulder was strong and she knew she’d made a mistake. She had to get away.

She tugged free of Rand’s grasp and hurried off the dance floor. What was with her tonight?

She headed for the bar and ordered a Stoli straight. She needed something to shock her back to her senses. Maybe she could blame this funky mood on the fact that her closest female friend, Angelica Leone-Sterling, had just announced she was pregnant.

Corrine knew she’d never have children. She wasn’t ever going to do something as dicey as bring a child into this chaotic world. This world where nothing lasted forever and death came quickly and swiftly, taking no notice of those left behind.

Damn, she was getting maudlin. Maybe she shouldn’t be drinking. But before she could rescind her drink order, she sensed Rand behind her.

“Make that two,” he said to the bartender.

The bartender set the drinks in front of them. Rand paid for hers before she had a chance to get her money out.

“Here’s some money for my drink,” she said when the bartender moved away.

“I see that you are going to need some etiquette lessons as well as an escort for business functions.”

“Why do you say that?” she asked. She knew she had manners. Mrs. Tanner, one of her foster mothers, had drilled manners into Corrine when she was eight years old. She didn’t think she’d ever forget those lessons.

“Because you don’t know how to say thank you. Put your money away.”

She slipped the folded bill back into her beaded handbag. When you grew up on charity it was hard to accept a handout. And Rand wasn’t her date for the night, he was a man she’d bid on. When she thought about it, maybe she should have paid for his drink. “I don’t like to take advantage of people.”

“I didn’t think you were.”

She took a sip of her drink, uncomfortable with the silence that had fallen between them. The liquid burned going down, but she didn’t flinch. Rand held his glass with a casual grace that made her feel awkward. She put her glass on a passing waiter’s tray and noticed that he did the same.

“What happened on the dance floor?” he asked at last.

She shrugged. No way was she going to tell him that he’d taken her by surprise. That the rich boy who liked to win had needled his way past the barrier she thought would keep her safe from any man. “I just didn’t feel like dancing.”

He arched one eyebrow at her again.

“That’s the most condescending thing I’ve ever seen anyone do,” she said.

“What?”

“That lord-of-the-manor eyebrow thing you do.”

He did it again. “It bothers you?”

“I just said so.”

“Good,” he said, caressing her cheek with his fingers.

“Why good?” she asked, trying to keep her mind off the shivers spreading over her body.

“Because you seem too removed from life.”

“I’m in control. Something you should appreciate.”

“I do. It’s just fun to needle you out of your comfort zone.”

“Rand, if we are going to have even a slim chance of getting along for our three ‘dates’ you are going to have to remember one thing.”

“What’s that?” he asked. Putting his hand on her elbow, he moved them out of the traffic path near the bar.

She waited until she was sure she had his attention. “I’m in charge.”

“Where did you get that idea?”

“I don’t know for sure, but I suspect it was when I wrote out the check to buy you.”

“Did you say buy me?” he asked.

“Do you have a hearing problem? I might have to trade you in.”

“You’re playing with fire, Cori.”

Why did he have to call her by that ridiculous nickname? No one had ever given her a nickname. In her first foster home they’d called her Corrine Jane. After that she’d made sure no one knew she had a middle name. When he called her Cori it was as if he was seeing inside her soul to the lonely little girl she’d been. And she didn’t like that.

“I know how to keep from getting burned,” she said carefully. Though with Rand she wasn’t sure of anything. They’d known each other casually for almost a year, and she still felt uncomfortable when she was near him.

“How?”

She looked straight into those devastating eyes of his. Why had she started this? There was no way out of this, and she knew she had to retreat now before she did something really foolish and tell him she was afraid of the fire in his eyes.

“Stay away from the fire,” she said, and turned to walk away.

“What if the fire doesn’t stay away from you?” he asked.

She pretended not to hear him and continued across the ballroom to her table. She told herself she hadn’t just issued a challenge to Rand but knew she had, and a part of her tingled in anticipation of what he’d do next.

Rand knew better than to follow her. A crazy kind of excitement buzzed through his veins. This was the first time a woman had inspired the feeling, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it. The logic part of his brain said that Corrine was a woman and a client and he should leave it at that, but deeper instincts called for him to probe deeper into her psyche until she had no secrets left. Nowhere to hide from him.

He detoured by his partner’s table. Angelica Leone-Sterling had the glow typical of a newlywed. More surprising to Rand, her husband, Paul, shared that same luminescence. Though they were both involved in separate conversations, Rand noticed their joined hands on the table.

For a moment he felt a pang at the loneliness of his life. Despite having four sisters and two loving parents. It was the same feeling that had dogged him since he was sixteen and a car accident had changed his life when his twin had died. But he’d learned to live with that missing part of himself. And until tonight he hadn’t realized that he wasn’t really living with it, rather just ignoring it.

He didn’t want to examine it now. He had to settle for flirty banter instead of meaningful conversation with the opposite sex. But then he knew that everything in life was a trade-off.

He was a successful businessman. He had a trust fund most people only dreamed of. And on most days that was enough. But tonight wasn’t one of them. Tonight his personal demon was rearing its ugly head and Rand fought to keep his jovial attitude. He really wanted to escape back to his dark corner of the world and go numb until he could escape.

He never should have followed Corrine to the bar and joined her for a Stoli. He knew better than to dance with a woman he wanted so badly that her perfume seemed etched in his memory, and her scent filled his every breath.

His reactions to Corrine weren’t helping, either. He could still feel her in his arms, dammit. She’d fit perfectly, and he’d wanted to nudge her head onto his shoulder and keep her cradled there all night long.

That woman needed someone to cradle her, even though she’d never admit it. Unfortunately, he couldn’t be that someone. The vow he’d made when he was twenty-one prevented him from being any woman’s “forever” man, yet he wanted to remind Corrine Martin she was a woman. There was something in her cool gray eyes that made him want to shake her up.

She’s a client, he reminded himself. “Never let the client get personal” was his mantra, but he wasn’t behaving true to form tonight. He blamed it on the fact that he’d been conned into going on stage at this charity event when he’d sworn never to do so.

The problem was he’d never been able to resist a challenge. He wasn’t sure when it had started, but he could remember having his first broken arm at age six when his older cousin Thomas had dared him to climb a tree. At thirty-five, he should be old enough to know better, but he liked the thrill he got from riding the edge of a dare.

It was a Super Bowl wager that had led to his participation in the themed “Buy a Bride” charity auction. Though he hadn’t been the only man on the stage, it was still humiliating to participate in such an event.

Angelica looked up as he approached and smiled at him. She’d changed a lot since her second marriage last year. She was happier and more willing to take a chance. Their friendship had started with her first marriage to Rand’s best friend, Roger. He and Roger had been roommates at military school and then in college. They had been closer than brothers.

Rand approached the table and made small talk until the right moment presented itself. He wanted a few minutes alone with Angelica.

“Want to dance?” he asked her, needing to talk to her without her husband around. Also, he needed to erase the memory of Corrine Martin in his arms.

“I don’t know. Your technique must be off. I saw Corrine leave you earlier.”

Great. He’d forgotten they were in a virtual fishbowl at these events. Usually he liked the attention and the feel of eyes on him. But when he’d held Corrine in his arms he’d forgotten all about being on display and had immersed himself in the sensations she elicited in him.

What was it with these women tonight? “The answer I’m looking for is yes or no.”

She sighed. He knew she’d probe into what had happened, and he should probably leave her sitting at the table with her husband. But he needed to talk to his best friend and congratulate her on the pregnancy she’d just announced. He wanted to warn her about life and how one had to be cautious when you got close to having it all.

He’d have to be on his guard around Angelica. Watch over her at work and make sure that she stayed safe for Paul and the baby. He owed Roger that much—after all, Roger had saved his life. He felt a little more pressure tightening the back of his neck.

“Yes. I think they’re playing our song,” she said.

The band had begun to play “I’ve Got a Crush on You.” It was the song they’d danced to at her first wedding so long ago. And over the years that song had helped them survive. Rand had held Angelica while she cried to that song on the anniversary of her first wedding.

There’d never been anything sexual between them; instead, she’d become like a sister to him. Though his own sisters would describe him as cold, he and Angelica had a warm relationship. Rand knew that was because of his debt to Roger.

Roger had guarded Rand’s secret addiction and pulled him back from the edge. He owed Roger at first. Then he’d come to know and care for Angelica.

Rand knew a moment’s fear for Paul and Angelica. It seemed as if they had too much. Rand had a healthy respect for the balance of the universe and the fact that you couldn’t have it all. He prayed that Paul and Angelica would be the exception to that rule.

“Congratulations on your pregnancy,” he said as they danced around the floor. They’d been partners in Corporate Spouses for more than ten years and friends even longer. Things were getting back to normal now. The tension at the back of his neck eased.

“Thank you. I’m a little nervous about it.”

Her confession robbed him of the advice he’d been about to give. He couldn’t tell her that fate never let anyone have it all. Because Angelica already knew that.

“I’ll make sure you have everything you need, kiddo,” he said.

“Oh, Rand. Thanks, but I think that’s Paul’s job now.”

He swallowed, realizing it was true. The one woman he’d allowed himself to care about belonged to someone else now. That’s good, he thought. Really, it is.

He tried to think of something else to say when he noticed one of the Tarron vice presidents, Mark something, escorting Corrine onto the dance floor. He didn’t like how low the guy’s hands were on Corrine’s hips.

He maneuvered himself closer to the couple. Corrine’s gaze met his and she seemed to want something from him. He looked closer at Mark and realized the man was drunk. Rand knew better than anyone how too many drinks could change the world around a man.

“Kiddo, you feel like using your power as the CEO’s wife?” he asked Angelica.

“How?”

“I’m going to cut in and rescue Corrine from a man who’s had one too many.”

“I get to dance with a drunk. Boy, Rand, you sure know how to show a girl a good time.”

“As you just pointed out, that’s not my job anymore.”

“You’re right. Who is it?”

“Mark something, I think.” He turned them so Angelica could see the man.

“Mark Jameson. His wife left him on New Year’s Day—what with it being Valentine’s Day—he hasn’t been the same since then.”

“Can you handle him?”

“No problem.”

Rand spun them neatly into Mark and Corrine’s path and tapped the other man on his shoulder. “May I?”

Mark’s eyes were blurry and he looked a little confused. Angelica stepped into his arms as Rand tugged Corrine free. He heard Angelica use her most soothing voice as she took the lead in the dance and moved Mark to the edge of the dance floor.

“Thanks. I owe you one,” Corrine said.

“I think I’ll collect now,” he said, even though he knew he should be escorting her off the dance floor and then collecting his keys from the valet and heading home.

“What do you want?”

That was a loaded question. “Don’t walk away again.”

She glanced up, obviously startled. “Ego problems?”

“Do you think I’m that shallow?”

“Yes,” she said.

He laughed. There was a part of him that was shallow, and he did his best to make sure that was the only thing people saw.

“Maybe I just wanted to hold you for the three minutes or so that the song lasts.”

“Don’t say things like that.”

“It’s the truth.” God, he wished it weren’t, but his body had already decided that there was no way Corrine was going to be a hands-off client. She called to parts of him that he’d put away a long time ago. Nothing was going to be normal until he’d mussed up her cool exterior. Until he had her blond hair spread out on his pillow and was buried deep in her sweet body with her legs and arms wrapped around him.

“We have a working relationship, Rand. It can’t be anything else.”

“I’m aware of that,” he said. He’d been working with Corrine on the new training module he and Corrine were developing at Tarron.

“Why’d you bid on me tonight?” he asked. It was out of character for the woman he knew her to be. She’d given not only him but most of her co-workers the cold shoulder. She was cordial and polite, but she kept a distance between herself and others. The only person he knew who’d gotten past her barrier was Angelica. But then, Angelica had a way with people.

“You looked lonely up there.”

He stopped dancing and glanced down at her. This was the second time she’d sassed him tonight. “Are you saying pity motivated you?”

“Well…yes.”

“Darling, I seem to remember a brisk bidding before you finally won me.”

“Cling to that memory,” she said with a laugh.

He joined her, even though she was having fun at his expense. There was something warm and almost adorable in her eyes that made him want to protect her. Much the same as he’d wanted to earlier when he’d realized she was trapped on the dance floor. But he’d never been anyone’s protector except Angelica’s. And she’d been safe because Rand couldn’t really fall in love with her. And he’d been doing it to pay back a debt. Business was the one thing he’d always been good at.

He was a loner by nature and he didn’t want to get too involved with Corrine. He let his arms drop, and the music ended a second later. There was confusion in her eyes. He knew he had to get away before he gave in to the temptation to take everything she had to offer. Because the woman he’d just held had a softness that she didn’t usually let the world see.

And that softness called to everything masculine in him. Made his chest swell and his muscles flex. It made him want to defend and protect her from everyone except himself. And Rand Pearson was no woman’s hero.

He’d learned that the hard way.

He pivoted to leave.

“Is this payback?” she asked.

He stopped and took her elbow to escort her off the dance floor. He’d never forgotten his manners before. He prided himself on always being a gentleman. Something his parents had instilled in him since he’d first known the difference between boys and girls.

He stopped at the edge of the dance floor and turned to thank her for the dance. But those gray eyes of hers made the words die unsaid.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

He walked away from her, knowing that he was going to need more than the words “never let the client get personal” help him this time. Because there was something about Corrine Martin that made him want to forget rules and lessons learned in life. And he was old enough to know better.