Authors: Darah Lace
Melody, who shifted her gaze toward the empty
fireplace. Dread lodged in Charlotte’s chest. “What?”
“We figured this was exactly the reaction we’d
get from you two,” Spencer explained. “So we
brought in extra sponsors, promising them a high
profile couple on a weekend trip to Aspen.”
The band around Charlotte’s chest grew tighter.
“And you guaranteed Marcus and I would be that
couple with the fifty thousand dollar bid.”
Melody nodded.
Charlotte slumped against the chair and closed
her eyes, suddenly weary. If she was this tired after
only one evening of trying to keep up her guard in
Marcus’s company, how would she ever make it
through an entire weekend? Just thinking about it
exhausted her. “How many sponsors are we talking,
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Mel?”
“Five, possibly six.”
Charlotte sensed Marcus’s presence near her
chair, felt him draw near before she heard his voice.
“Excuse me, but would someone mind telling me
what the hell all this means?”
“It means,” Charlotte opened her eyes and
locked gazes with him, “that each sponsor will want
their own photos. It means we’ll be forced together
on at least five, possibly six different occasions
throughout the weekend.”
He turned to the others. “Is this true?”
Melody nodded. “They won’t want to run the
same publicity shot as the next guy. They’ll want
theirs to be unique, down to the slightest article of
clothing. They’ll be hoping for something better than
everyone else’s.”
Charlotte flinched at the string of curses Marcus
let fly as he stalked past her. A second later the door
slammed. Like she’d said, he was damn good at
walking away, getting better with all the practice
she was giving him. Good thing this time would
probably be the last.
She tilted a glance toward Chad and smiled.
“Well, it looks like we’ll be having that good time
after all.”
He laughed. “Charlotte, darlin’, as much as I’d
like to spend a weekend painting the town with you,
it’ll never happen.”
“But you said—”
“Yes, but you heard Marcus. He said he’d do it.”
Charlotte snorted. “I don’t think so.”
“Believe me, he’ll do it,” Chad said. “Whether he
admits it or not, you’re under his skin, and he can’t
stand the idea of anyone else near you.”
A glance at the rest of the conspirators showed
they agreed, and Charlotte had to wonder if Marcus
was really that angry about having to spend time
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with her. Or if perhaps he was afraid. Afraid of what
might happen between them if he did. After all,
every time they’d been alone, which had only been
twice, they ended up hot and heavy.
She thought about those moments in the closet.
He had condemned her in one breath. In the next, he
had stolen hers with a kiss that melted any
resistance she might have offered. He had pushed
the limits, taken what he could in the limited
privacy allotted, then stopped the minute they were
alone again, prepared to walk away. Just as he had
before.
Charlotte released a long, pent up breath and
shook her head. “I’m sorry to disappoint your efforts
at matchmaking, but I just don’t think it’s going to
work.”
“Chad’s right. Marcus will do it,” Melody said.
She scooted to the edge of her chair. “I want you to
remember what we discussed earlier this evening
about using this opportunity to—”
“Yes, Mel, I remember.” Charlotte glanced
pointedly at the others who looked on with interest.
She was sure Melody would tell them exactly what
she meant later if she hadn’t already, but for now,
Charlotte could pretend otherwise and retain some
semblance of self-respect.
Sighing, she closed her eyes and recalled
Melody’s words.
What better way to show him what you’re really
like?
No. Hell no. She didn’t want that.
Okay, then think of it this way. Being confined
with Marcus for a few days on a cruise ship or at a
secluded ski lodge is a sure-fire chance to work your
wiles on him. You could get him out of your system
once and for all.
Melody was right about one thing. She needed to
get Marcus out of her system. Until she did, she
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would never be happy with the solitary life she’d
chosen.
What better way to do it than to actually have
him in a position guaranteed to keep him constantly
within reach? For all that he tried to be different, he
was only a man, and when it came down to it, lust
overpowered
the
strongest
will,
given
the
opportunity.
Charlotte felt the corners of her lips tilt upward.
She could do it. She could seduce Marcus, have a
wild weekend full of hot and steamy sex, and finally
get him out of her system.
And once she did,
she
would be the one to walk
away.
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On Thursday morning, almost a week after the
bachelor auction, Marcus entered St. Anne’s
Hospital for the first of many embarrassingly
difficult publicity appearances as Charlotte’s bought-
and-paid-for bachelor. He still hadn’t gotten past the
fact that he’d been backed into a corner—trapped no
less—by those he trusted. They’d known just which
buttons to push to ensure his cooperation.
Using the threat to Preston Enterprises and the
children’s
benefit
had
been
irritating
but
understandable. He had always considered himself
an honorable man. But knowing they’d guessed his
secret, an unwanted attraction to Charlotte, was
humiliating. More so, they’d known he would never
stand for one of them assuming the role of auctioned
bachelor and spending a weekend with her. For a
moment, he’d almost let pride overrule honor.
He cringed every time he thought how close he’d
come to calling their bluff. God knows he’d wanted
to. But there was no way in hell he could let Chad
take his place. His younger brother got along with
Charlotte too damn well. No telling what kind of
trouble they’d get into.
Marcus had almost insisted Mitch step up to the
plate since he’d recently sworn off women but
reconsidered after a brief glance at Charlotte. If she
had an entire weekend to work her wiles, even Mitch
might succumb to temptation. The only brother he
figured she couldn’t and wouldn’t try to seduce was
Spencer. Somehow, Marcus didn’t think Melody
would agree to that solution.
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Pausing in front of the swinging doors that led
to the game room for the children of the burn unit,
Marcus tried to collect himself. He hated that he
even gave a damn who Charlotte seduced. But it had
bothered him over the years, watching her flirt and
flaunt and literally fall into men’s laps. He’d tried
not to imagine what she did with them in private.
Then things had changed. He had changed.
Since the night of July fourth at the mayor’s party
when she’d come apart in his arms, he hadn’t been
able to think about much else. Just the idea of her
with another man made him crazy. And that pissed
him off more than anything.
Over the last few days, he had dealt with this
realization—or tried to—and had come to the
conclusion that the only way to survive the weekend
with Charlotte was to avoid her. He would do no
more and no less than necessary to fulfill his
obligation as bachelor. She was on her own, and he
would tell her so at the first opportunity.
Dragging in a deep breath, he pushed the doors
open and stepped inside, prepared to face yet
another humiliation. The scene that greeted him
caused all frustration with Charlotte and anger at
himself to dissipate. Whatever his problems, they
paled in comparison to ones faced by the innocents
staring back at him with curious but wary eyes.
In one quick glance, he took in the group of
bachelors and their buyers who hovered in one
corner while the children stood stiffly in another
next to a massive artificial Christmas tree. The only
sound in the room came from a photographer as he
busied himself setting up equipment beneath large
silver umbrellas. It seemed Melody had yet to arrive
with the gifts from the children’s foundation, and if
he knew Charlotte, she’d be late for no other reason
than to make a grand entrance.
Marcus started to join his acquaintances, but
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the smug look on Daphne Cohen’s face made him
hesitate. Peter Dawson stood beside her, grinning
like an idiot as he waved Marcus over. Marcus knew
damned well they couldn’t wait to offer their two
cents on the subject of him and Charlotte.
It was all he’d heard since the bachelor auction.
Everyone wanted to know what was going on
between them, if he thought he could tame her, some
even suggesting ways to go about it. Dawson had a
loud mouth and wouldn’t care what he said or
whether the children across the room heard.
Marcus dismissed Houston’s elite in favor of
more interesting company and strolled slowly
toward the children. They perked as he neared, their
eyes round with cautious anticipation. He stopped to
linger in front of the fake pine.
“Pretty tree,” he said, fingering a paper
snowman covered with silver glitter. “You guys
make these ornaments?”
“I made that one,” a tiny voice answered.
Marcus looked down to the elfin figure beside
him and couldn’t stop the raw emotion that raged
through him. Tight blonde curls haloed one half of
her head, enhancing angelic blue eyes that peered
up at him with timid curiosity. He fought the anger
and revulsion he knew was only natural when faced
with such tragically marred beauty.
Squatting beside her, he braced his forearms on
denim-clad knees and grinned. “I sure like snowmen.
Especially this one.”
That garnered a smile so he asked, “What’s your
name?”
“Amy.”
“Well, now Amy. My name is Marcus, and do
you know the only thing I like better than
snowmen?”
Amy shook her head.
He reached to tuck a lock of gold behind the nub
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of scarred tissue that should have been a shell of soft
flesh, and her eyes flared wider than he thought
possible. His heart wrenched, and he swallowed the
lump in his throat. “Guess.”
She tilted her head to one side, lips pinched in
avid concentration. Then her eyes brightened and
she whispered, her voice filled with awe, “Charlotte.”
Marcus had been so intent on her reaction to his
touch that at first her answer didn’t register. Then
he frowned and for a second wondered if his brothers
had set him up again. “Uh—”
“Charlotte!”
Amy skittered around him and almost fell when
one of the other kids bumped against her in his rush
to get by. Marcus caught her, but she wriggled loose,
determined to follow the rest of the children as they
swarmed past him, all squealing and yelling
Charlotte’s name.
Marcus swiveled on booted heels and nearly fell
on his ass.
The forlorn waifs he’d thought to make
comfortable had become a bunch of excited,
jabbering jumping beans, each clamoring for
Charlotte’s attention. As if she were their pagan
goddess and her very touch would somehow make
them whole again. The similarity between himself
and these children suddenly struck him. The only
times he had ever felt complete were when he’d held
Charlotte in his arms.
Rejecting the idea, Marcus rose to his feet. As
the little nymphs tugged Charlotte toward him, he
got his first really good glimpse of the woman who
enthralled them.
He had never seen her look anything but