Authors: Darah Lace
have been killed.”
“I know that.”
“You know that? You
know
that?” The truth
202
Bachelor Auction
once again slapped him in the face. “So you’d rather
get yourself killed than spend the afternoon with
me.”
“You were bent on interrogating me. As if my
life was any of your business. What was I supposed
to do?”
“You lie so well, you could have made up
something to get out of it anytime during the ski
lodge promo or later during lunch. A headache,
stomachache, cramps, anything.”
“You wouldn’t have let me get away with that.
You’d have followed me back to the hotel and started
in with your questions.”
“What is it you’re so afraid I’ll find out,
Charlotte? Is there something other than your
degree and your non-affair with Wylie you don’t
want me to know?” Her blue eyes rounded with fear,
like a rabbit cornered by a fox. He went for the kill.
“Everything about you is a lie, isn’t it, Charlotte?
Because you’re afraid. And not just of heights.”
“That’s not true.”
“You don’t drink, yet you pretend to.”
“It’s what society expects.”
“It’s what you want them to believe. You
couldn’t maintain your image if they thought you
were sober, could you? You couldn’t be the party
girl.”
Waving a hand in dismissal, she turned away.
“You think you know everything.”
He caught her arm and pulled her back around.
“If I’m wrong, then why bother making everyone
believe you had an affair with Grant Wylie when in
fact you were tutoring him? Doing something
constructive and admirable?”
She stared at him for almost a full minute then
threw her hands in the air. “Geez, Marcus, weren’t
you listening? Robyn told you why.” She flipped a
hunk of wet, limp hair over her shoulder. “I needed a
203
Darah Lace
break between men.”
“That’s not what she said. She said you were
trying to discourage the nicer guys.”
“Same difference.”
“I don’t think so. Now that I think about it,
other than Wylie, you’ve never had a relationship. I
always thought it was because you wanted to be free
to be with whoever caught your eye. But I think
you’re afraid of intimacy.”
“Hardly.” She laughed bitterly. “I’ve been
intimate
on a fairly regular basis.”
The carelessness with which she bandied about
her reputation added to his fury. “Dammit,
Charlotte, you know what I mean. I’m talking about
commitment.”
“What do you want from me, Marcus?”
“I want you to be yourself. The intelligent,
caring, beautiful woman you are. The one you let the
kids at the hospital see. The one who played in the
snow with me yesterday.”
She snorted. “You want me to be a woman easily
taken for granted. To let others walk all over me.
Well, I won’t do it. My mother let emotions rule her
life and look where it got her.”
“You’re stronger than your mother.”
“You don’t know that. I might be just like her. I
might fall so hard that I lose myself in trying to
hang on to some faithless bastard like my father. I
can’t—no, I
won’t
take that chance.”
Her voice broke, and most of the steam went out
of Marcus’s anger. Except for the bit reserved for her
parents. They had really done a number on her. “You
can’t go through life believing every man is like your
father.”
“Aren’t they?”
“I won’t lie to you. Some are. But not all.”
Not
me
.
She stared at him, telling him with her eyes she
204
Bachelor Auction
wanted to believe him but wouldn’t allow herself. He
wanted to tell her how he felt about her, but he
wasn’t quite comfortable with the idea yet. He hadn’t
even known himself until he saw her hurtling head
over heels down the mountainside and thought he’d
lost her.
The buzzing of an engine echoed behind him. He
glanced over his shoulder as the medic pulled the
snowmobile to a stop a few feet away. He held
Charlotte’s poles and toboggan in one hand. “Is
anyone hurt?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
They spoke in unison. Marcus indicated
Charlotte should go first. She folded her arms across
her middle. “I’m fine.”
“She took a pretty bad spill. She needs to be
checked out.” He wasn’t about to let her stubborn
pride stand in the way of common sense when she
clearly couldn’t ski down the mountain. And he still
worried about internal injuries.
The medic looked from him to Charlotte. “I’ll
take you down and have Doc Murphy take a look at
you.”
She hesitated, and Marcus busied himself
gathering her skis. She’d revealed so much of herself
in the past few minutes; admitting one more
weakness, especially in front of him, had to be
killing her.
He handed the skis to the medic, and while he
bungee-corded them to the snowmobile, Marcus
waited beside her. She refused to look at him so he
faced forward. “Make sure the doctor is thorough.
Let him prescribe something if you need it.”
“I will.” She sounded resigned now.
“And make Wylie get a taxi or drive you back to
the hotel. I don’t want you walking.” The hotel was
only a block from the ski lodge. They’d walked over
205
Darah Lace
after lunch.
“Okay.”
“A hot shower might help any aches and pains
the medicine doesn’t.”
“I’ll be fine.”
He glanced sideways and caught her wiping a
tear from her cheek. Aching to take her in his arms,
yet knowing she’d hate him if he did, he turned
away. “Just in case, I’ll—” he cleared his throat, “I’ll
be there as soon as I can.”
The medic motioned her forward, and Marcus
watched until she climbed on and they disappeared
over the next ledge. Then he turned away, slowly
making his way to where she’d fallen, and picked up
his gloves. He’d promised to hurry, but really, what
was the point?
Charlotte didn’t want his company. She’d said it
a hundred times and a hundred different ways over
the years. He’d respected her wishes in the past and
he would do so again. Their weekend was technically
over. So was the affair they’d never begun.
She didn’t want his help either. The woman had
more pride than he’d ever suspected. That and fear.
He finally understood why she did the things she
did. She had an image to maintain, a wall of
enormous proportions that she thought would keep
her safe from the pain love sometimes brought.
One thing was clear. If she didn’t want his
company, his help or even his sympathy, she sure as
hell wouldn’t want his love.
206
Bachelor Auction
Her bags were packed and waiting at the foot of
the bed. There was a flight out of Denver at
midnight—she’d missed that one—and another
around four in the morning, though that one took a
less direct route with a two-hour layover in Chicago.
After that there were no departures until their
original flight at ten.
Still, Charlotte couldn’t make herself leave. Too
much was at stake.
She twisted from her perch at the end of the bed
to glance at the clock on the night stand, wincing as
her strained muscles protested. Eleven thirty-nine.
Two minutes later than the last time she looked.
Midnight seemed eons away.
Flopping back on the bed, she wondered how it
had come to this. Her plan to knock Marcus off his
high horse had started out so simple. Seduce him,
prove he was ruled by his libido just the same as any
man, and get him the hell out of her system.
But Marcus had demonstrated more will power
than any man she’d ever known and turned the
tables on her more times than she was willing to
admit. Geez, all he had to do was kiss her, and she
melted in his hands, forgetting all else. Including
her objective.
He seemed to have his own agenda. From the
very beginning he had prodded and pushed until he
had her so upset and confused that she lost it and
confessed almost everything. What she hadn’t told
him, he’d guessed. She had seen the pity in his eyes
when he’d tried to convince her she could be herself.
207
Darah Lace
He believed society would accept her; she would be
safe in letting down her guard. Not every man was
like her father. Yet, after all was said and done, he
hadn’t been able to look at her.
Oh, she knew her way of thinking—hell, her
whole way of life—was distorted. She didn’t need
psychology books and professors to tell her that. She
had major issues with trust. Especially when it
involved men, thanks to her father. But if she tried
living as Marcus suggested, she doubted anyone
would believe the transformation. She’d lived the lie
far too long.
So, she sat in her room. In the silent darkness.
Waiting for Marcus to fall asleep so she could
convince him he was wrong about her. She behaved
the way she did because that’s who she was. She
couldn’t let him go home believing otherwise.
Marcus had to have flown down that damned
mountain. He had returned to the hotel almost as
soon as she had. The medic had insisted she see the
doctor at the emergency clinic, who then took forever
to release her, especially after she declined x-rays.
Grant and Robyn had found her while she was there,
escorted her to the hotel and refused to leave until
she was safely out of the shower and settled for the
night.
She had no more locked herself in her room than
Marcus entered the suite. He had immediately
knocked on her door and called her name. She
ignored him, hoping he would think she was asleep,
then realized in her panic she forgot to turn off the
bedside lamp. When he called out to her again,
louder and with a hint of concern, and actually
jiggled the knob, she knew she had to answer or he
would never go away.
Through the door, he’d asked if she was okay, if
she was hungry, if she needed anything. She told
him she was fine and just needed a good night’s
208
Bachelor Auction
sleep. A few minutes later she heard his shower
running. It was still early then, only seven o’clock,
but she’d hoped he would turn in anyway. Instead,
he called room service from the phone in the living
area and settled on the sofa to watch television. He’d
finally gone to bed an hour ago.
Another glance at the clock showed eleven fifty-
two. Not long now. Only eight more minutes before
she could set her new plan into motion. A plan that
would destroy everything between them and bring to
an end any thoughts he might have of pursuing a
relationship.
With a weary sigh, Charlotte pushed off the bed.
Time to get him out of her system once and for all.
****
yet something was different, not quite right.
Marcus resisted the pull of consciousness. He
didn’t want to wake up. He wanted to remain in the
dream, to finish it this time. He never allowed
himself to entertain thoughts like this during the
day. Not while his conscience demanded rigid
control. The least he deserved was to thoroughly
enjoy the fantasy while he slept.
So he slipped back into the realm of
subconscious, where he got to be whoever he wanted,
do whatever he wanted with whomever and without
guilt. Without remorse. Without consequences.
His
whomever
was always the same, or had been
the last five years.
Charlotte.
Charlotte’s lips smiling, sensual, parting.
Charlotte’s body, naked, dewy and writhing.
Always writhing.
Charlotte’s hands, soft, knowing, touching.
He could feel them now. Stroking the top of his
foot, caressing his ankle. That was the difference
between this dream and others. She’d never devoted
209
Darah Lace
so much attention to his feet. Not that he was