Fantasy. Lori Foster
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the same as donating the money directly. Only this way, the men on stage get to advertise their businesses to all the press that’s here, displaying themselves as concerned businessmen, and the shelter will benefit since every company represented has promised to donate free labor. They’ll do painting, concrete work, landscaping…whatever, to help get the newest shelter up and running. They get great publicity and we get free labor. Everyone is happy.”
Except me, Brandi thought, feeling categorically unhappy. She wondered what Shay’s man would contribute, but in the next instant, decided she didn’t want to know. One could only guess what a big, unsmiling barbarian like him did for a living.
“It’s a business venture,” Shay continued. “Everyone will come out ahead—even the travel agency that donated the Gatlinburg prize packages because it’s fabulous publicity for them. And a lot of the people using the packages will be repeat customers. But most of all, needy families will get housing. Do you realize how much money we’ve made?”
Brandi understood Shay’s enthusiasm. Ever since she’d been widowed, Shay had done her best to become involved in the elite Jackson community of Tennessee, trying to pull resources from the wealthy to help those in need. She had her husband’s money, which gave her a lot of clout, and she had the energy and wit to put it to good use. Unfortunately, Shay didn’t fit the part of the matronly widow, not with her exceptional looks and outgoing personality. Many of the men refused to take her efforts seriously, and many of the women chose to see her as a personal threat.
Brandi knew her sister wanted desperately to find a purpose in life, some way to make use of the fortune her husband had left behind. And Brandi wanted to support her in every way she could.
“Shay,” Brandi said, not wanting to dim her sister’s overwhelming exuberance, “You don’t owe me any explanations. If you want to buy a man…well, you can certainly afford it and I had no business questioning you. I apologize.” She was sorry—sorry she’d ever come here tonight. Now all she wanted to do was go home, eat her birthday cake in private and forget she’d ever seen him.
Shay grinned. “I just wanted to make certain you understood my motives.”
Brandi nodded. She did understand. They’d made a bundle tonight, but then she’d never doubted they would. Whenever her sister set out to do something it got done, in a big way.
This time Shay had bought herself a very expensive man.
Without really meaning to, Brandi asked, “But why him?” There were any number of men Shay could have chosen and each and every one of them would have been thrilled with her as purchaser. So why had she chosen this particular man? The one man Brandi wished she’d had the nerve to buy for herself.
Not that it mattered. Brandi instinctively avoided men like him. He was too large, too dark and too imposing. Even under his suit, she’d been able to see all that hard muscle. The man was a damn behemoth, a huge warrior looking ready for battle. Brandi had no idea what she’d do with him if she had him.
But several ideas, vague in nature, flitted through her mind.
Shay only smiled. “You saw for yourself how incredibly sexy he is.”
Sexy didn’t even come close to describing him. He’d looked at her, and she’d gone warm and nervous and breathless all at the same time. He hadn’t flexed or winked or done any of the things the other men had done. He’d merely stood there, looking magnificent.
And Shay had bought him.
Catching Brandi’s hand and dragging her along, Shay led her to where the men were being introduced to the women who’d had the final bids. Brandi tried to hold back, but Shay wouldn’t allow it.
“Come on, Brandi. Our guy should be somewhere at the end of the line. He was the last one sold.”
Our guy? The heels of her low black pumps left marks on the tile floor as Brandi dug in, refusing to move another inch. “Now wait just a minute, Shay! I don’t know what you’re up to, but he’s not our guy.”
With a tug, Shay got her moving again. “You’re right. He’s yours.”
CHAPTER TWO
“YOU CAN STOP right now, Shay. I want no part of this.”
“Now Brandi,” Shay whispered, leaning way down to reach Brandi’s ear. “The press is everywhere, just as I’d hoped. You don’t want to give my charity event a bad name, do you? You know how much trouble I already have getting these stuffy old snobs to accept me and to take part in the benefits. If Phillip hadn’t left me a very wealthy widow, none of them would even speak to me. And if it wasn’t for something so outlandish as an auction, not one of them would have parted with a single additional dime. They couldn’t care less about the needy, you know that, but they do love to have their fun. I had to find a way to give them that in the name of charity—to entice them. You know how crowded the women’s shelters are here in Jackson. We need this auction to succeed. But if my own sister acts appalled, I’ll never be elected to spearhead another event.”
Brandi ground her teeth in frustration, but had to admit Shay was right. It was important to show her support, which was why she’d attended the auction in the first place. Ever since Phillip’s death, Shay had thrown herself into other activities, but this was the first time she’d made much headway. And the auction was an undeniable success. It would be the event that would open future opportunities for Shay. She wanted to help; she needed to help.
The very idea of women purchasing men had all kinds of connotations attached, just as Shay had predicted. Which was why an abundance of reporters had also attended, titillated and ready to produce a story that would give the auction the publicity it needed.
Brandi couldn’t begin to imagine what Shay had in mind for her man. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. For some reason, the idea of Shay alone with him on a quiet, romantic getaway disturbed her. And as much as she hated to admit it, as much as she loved her sister and wanted her to be happy, she felt envious.
“Come on, Brandi. You’ll enjoy this.”
Extremely doubtful, she thought but it was difficult to take your sister to task when she was so incredibly tall. Compared to Brandi’s five feet four inches, Shay’s six feet could be rather persuasive.
They finally stopped beside a large crowd of women waiting to claim their “purchases.” Brandi looked around, seeing men and women pairing off while photographers captured every move. The women postured, showing off their elegant gowns and jewels, and the men smiled, looking sexy and confident and proud of their success. They were all so natural, so outgoing…so different from her.
Her gaze skimmed the room, taking it all in. Everyone seemed to be having a good time.
All but one man.
Brandi froze, her gaze glued to that intense, unsmiling face. Size alone distinguished him from the other men. But there was also the darkness about him, his straight black hair, his tanned skin. Only his green eyes seemed bright, and they were like fire—watching her.
Already he’d loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top of his white dress shirt. Dark curling hair showed in the opening. Brandi wondered if he was that hairy all over, then flushed with the thought.
Lounging, with one broad shoulder propped against the wall, he affected a casual pose, but Brandi suspected there was nothing casual about it. A panther tensed to attack his prey was a better comparison than casual negligence.
He might as well have been on the stage again, he so completely dominated her vision, her thoughts. A touch of thrilling excitement swirled in her belly.
And then it hit her.
He was now Shay’s companion for the next five days, but was singling Brandi out by staring, stalking her with his eyes. Brandi stiffened and let her own black brows draw down in a frown. The man must be a complete cad! Of course, she was searching for reasons to dislike him, to make the situation more tolerable, but still, she had a valid point.