Surrender (11 page)

After thanking everyone he rapped his gavel on the podium to silence the crowd and get things under way. “Ladies and gentlemen, but especially you lovely single sisters out there tonight, we’ve finally reached the moment all of you’ve been waiting for. As everyone who’s come before me has stated, all proceeds, which includes the price you paid for your tickets, will go to the Children Home Society. If you will refer to your program booklet, you will find the names of all the brothers who are being auctioned tonight, along with their personal bios—which I’m sure you’ll find impressive. As indicated the persons with the highest bids for the first nine brothers are entitled to dinner at various exclusive restaurants in the city. The person with the highest bid for Brother Number Ten gets to spend a weekend in New Orleans French Quarter. We will begin the bidding with Brother Number One, Blade Madaris.”

At that moment Blade Madaris walked out on stage, dressed in a black tux. He gave everyone a dazzling smile, which made the sisters in the audience go wild. Trask smiled as he rapped his gavel
on the podium to get the crowd under control. It seemed a new generation of Madaris men was up for viewing. “From Blade’s bio you can see that he is a twenty-seven-year-old native of Houston, a graduate of Morehouse and a proud Alpha man. Presently he works as an engineer for Madaris Construction Company.” Trask looked out over the room. “Who will open the bid for Mr. Madaris at one thousand dollars?” When a woman in the back held up her name card indicating that she would, Trask nodded with satisfaction. “Maureen Sullivan has offered one thousand. Do I have two?”

Less than five minutes later Blade Madaris was presented to Shawna Crews, who won Blade with the winning bid of six thousand dollars.

“For those ladies who lost out on Brother Number One, don’t despair, just get ready for Brother Number Two, who happens to be Brother Number One’s twin, Slade Madaris. Slade works as an architect for Madaris Construction Company and like his brother, he’s a graduate of Morehouse and an Alpha man.” Trask looked over the room. “Who will open the bid for the second Mr. Madaris at one thousand?”

Less than five minutes later Slade Madaris was presented to Pat Samuels, with a winning bid of six thousand five hundred dollars. Brothers Numbers Three and Four brought in eight thousand each; and Brother Number Five, twenty-six-year-old rodeo superstar Luke Madaris, brought in a whopping ten
thousand. The auction was well under way with only five brothers left to bid on.

Everyone was given fifteen minutes of intermission. Netherland was tempted to use that time to seek out Ashton but decided against it. Instead she visited with various people who were present that night. At the end of intermission, Trask’s voice rose and captured everyone’s attention, encouraging them to return to their seats.

“The next brother is someone I know very well. He’s my biological brother, Alexander Maxwell,” Trask said once the auction was under way again.

Alexander walked out on stage and like the brothers who’d come before him, he was dressed in a black tux that fitted his body with unerring precision. He looked good, real good. And the expression he wore was serious, pensive and challenged any woman to be the one to put a smile on his face. There were a few in the audience who thought they could, which heightened the excitement in the room.

Trask hit the gavel on the podium to recapture everyone’s attention. “From Alex’s bio you can see that he’s a graduate of Howard University and received his master’s degree from MIT. After working a short period for the FBI, he’s now CEO of Maxwell Security and Investigators.” Trask looked out over the audience. “Who will open the bidding at one thousand dollars?”

A hand lifted somewhere in the back of the audience and a name card came up. “One thousand dollars,” a woman called out.

Then the bidding began as several women who were intent on having that date with Alex and putting that smile on his face threw out their bids. The bidding became rapid, fierce and aggressive, as each woman forced the other to bid higher and higher, making Alex the hottest brother in demand thus far. In the end, surprising everyone, except for her brothers and a few others who knew of Alex’s plan, Christy Madaris stood and topped the highest bid of thirteen thousand by offering fifteen thousand dollars.

“Miss Christy Madaris has offered fifteen thousand dollars. Do I have sixteen thousand?” Trask asked, looking around the room to see if anyone else would signal. When no one else bidded, he smiled and said, “Alex Maxwell is awarded to Christy Madaris.”

Alex Maxwell released a deep sigh of relief. While the audience watched he left the stage and walked over to the head table to present Christy with a dozen red roses. He had seen her when he had first walked out on stage and had forced himself to keep his eyes off her. Christy Madaris had always been an awfully cute kid but now she had grown into a very beautiful young woman, something Alex tried real hard not to notice whenever he saw her. The last time had been at Trevor and Corinthians’s wedding reception last summer and a couple of months before that, her brother Clayton’s wedding. Both times he had found his gaze deliberately seeking her out. It was hard to believe she was the same person he had taught to ride her first bicycle, but then he would know her
whiskey-colored eyes and reddish-brown mane of hair anywhere. She was wearing her hair down, and it rippled in soft curls around her shoulders. A part of him was glad she hadn’t succumbed to fashion and dyed her hair blond or some other horrendous color, or chopped it off short as a number of young women her age were doing. She had opted to retain that natural beauty that had been so much a part of her from childhood. It was that natural beauty he was most attracted to.

Alex swallowed and tried to remember that Christy was the last person whose beauty he should be attracted to. She was like family. He forced himself to remember that Christy Madaris was still a kid, although she no longer looked the part. But he couldn’t put the thought from his mind that even with the eight-year difference in their ages, there had always been a special closeness between them. They used to spend a lot of time together while growing up when she used to follow him around, something that had never bothered him.

He came to a stop when he reached Christy’s side. She looked stunning. Too stunning. Her string-bean body now had luscious curves, and the flirty little gown she was wearing was definitely clinging to them. Her outfit was most assuredly a sexy number that ended, he couldn’t help but notice, midthigh. Its low round neckline dipped to the swell of her breasts.

Alex was surprised her brothers had allowed her to wear such a revealing outfit in public. Evidently
they didn’t think there was a need to worry about any males showing interest tonight with the three of them standing guard.

“Hello, Christy,” he said, in a deep, resonant voice as he handed her the flowers. “Thanks for agreeing to come to my rescue,” he whispered, smiling at her. “I’ll be back later to claim my dance, after the auction is over.” In addition to receiving a dozen roses from the brother she was awarded, the sister with the winning bid was also guaranteed the first dance with him.

Christy Madaris smiled back at him and something in the pit of Alex’s stomach gave a sharp jolt. “It’s good seeing you again,
Alexander the Great.
”

A low chuckle rumbled deep in Alex’s chest. Christy, at the age of eleven, had given him that nickname after studying about the fierce Macedonian king in school.

“You remember that?” she asked as a smile trembled over her lips.

“How can I forget it? You used to annoy the heck out of me when you used to follow me around calling me that.”

Her smile widened. “Sorry, Alexander Julian.”

An easy grin played at the corners of his mouth. “You’re forgiven, Christina Marie.”

For some reason conversing with Christy warmed him with astonishing intensity. Within a few brief seconds he had lowered his guard of indifference where women were concerned. His throat tightened and an invisible band of iron squeezed his chest.
Suddenly feeling panicky and out of his element with her, Alex gathered control of his thoughts as well as of his mind and took a step back. He nodded to everyone else at the table before turning to walk off.

Marilyn Madaris leaned back in her chair after observing the exchange between her daughter and Alex Maxwell. She then noted the smug smiles on the faces of her three sons, Justin, Dex and Clayton. Christy had shared with Marilyn what her brothers had asked her to do to help Alex out of a jam tonight.

Marilyn shook her head as a lazy smile touched her lips. She wondered what her sons would think if they knew that they might have helped their childhood friend out of a jam, but in doing so they had given Alex to their sister on a silver platter. She doubted her sons knew that Christy’s teenage crush on Alex had never gone away. Marilyn still remembered when Christy, at thirteen, had announced to everyone at breakfast one morning that Alex had promised to wait for her to grow up to marry him and proudly showed off the ring he’d given her.

It seemed that everyone had forgotten about that promise—possibly including Alex. She wondered what they would think if they knew that Christy had not forgotten it and intended to hold Alex to it.

Marilyn took a sip of her coffee. She had a feeling that things were about to get real interesting.

T
wo hours later all the brothers except for Ashton had been bid on and awarded to some happy sister. Excitement and anticipation rippled through the audience more so than ever before. Conversations broke off as the room became quiet, almost deathly still.

Netherland was seated at the head table next to Syneda. She glanced around the room noticing the expressions of anticipation on a number of women’s faces, especially Angela Meadows. Rumor had it that Angela was willing to give up just about her last penny to spend a weekend with Ashton, and Netherland had no intentions of letting the woman do that.

“This is the moment I understand many of you sisters have been waiting for, our final brother,
Brother Number Ten, Marine Colonel Ashton Sinclair,” Trask said as he looked out upon the audience and into all the eager feminine faces.

“From Colonel Sinclair’s bio you can see that he is a thirty-five-year-old Oklahoman and a graduate of Georgetown University. Presently, he is a colonel in the United States Marine Corps and takes their motto, ‘Always Faithful,’ very seriously.”

Trask glanced around the room. “I’m sure most of you are familiar with the marines’ slogan of ‘Looking for a few good men.’ Well, Colonel Sinclair is definitely one of them. A former member of the Marine Corps’ Force Recon Unit, he has been awarded numerous medals of bravery for his part in protecting our country and preserving peace. The lucky lady who makes the highest bid for Colonel Sinclair gets to spend a weekend with him in New Orleans.”

Trask’s smile widened. “I present to some, and introduce to others, the brother of the hour, Colonel Ashton Sinclair of the United States Marine Corps.”

To Netherland’s way of thinking the lights seemed to dim as all eyes focused on Ashton, who seemed to miraculously appear on stage, although she knew his entry was done by some sort of special effects to make it appear that way.

Her breath, like that of every woman present, caught in her throat. Standing before them was the most handsome spit-and-polished marine she had ever seen. With hair flowing past his shoulders under
neath his military hat, he was dressed in an officer’s evening dress uniform, which consisted of a dress blue waistcoat and pants with a scarlet cummerbund—complete with ceremonial sword. Moving with stiff-spine precision he walked toward the front of the stage. When he came to a stop, he reached across his body with his right hand and withdrew his sword from its scabbard. The lights seemed to hit the gleaming, polished metal and radiate off every individual in the place as he raised it high.

It was a powerful stance that brought tears to Netherland’s eyes. Ashton was definitely making a statement. He was making it absolutely clear that whatever woman chose him tonight would not only be choosing Ashton Sinclair the man, but also Ashton Sinclair the marine. She wiped her eyes when he lowered the sword slowly to hold by his side.

The room erupted in an uproar, mass pandemonium, as the women started screaming, hollering and giving Ashton a standing ovation. Women loved men in uniform, and there was no doubt that he was the top prize for the evening and, judging from the buzzing and whispers going around the room, it was clear that women who hadn’t thought to bid before were now seriously considering doing so.

Trask had to rap his gavel on the podium for several long minutes to regain order. Netherland nervously bit her lips. Coming up with the highest bid wouldn’t be as easy as she thought.

“Let’s come to order so the bidding can begin,”
Trask was finally able to say. “Who will open the bid for Colonel Sinclair at five thousand dollars?”

He got six easily and didn’t have any problems getting seven, eight and nine. “Do I have ten?”

“Ten thousand dollars.”

Everyone recognized the voice of Angela Meadows. She had finally entered the fray.

“Angela Meadows has offered ten thousand dollars,” Trask said, trying to keep the smile from his voice. “Do I hear eleven?”

He got eleven and twelve without any sweat. Angela offered thirteen and Sandra countered with fourteen. Some woman in the back offered fifteen, then Angela countered with sixteen. The woman in the back then countered with seventeen. Deciding not to be undone, Angela raised her bid to twenty with a satisfied, smug grin on her lips.

Netherland glanced up at Ashton. His gaze was on her and what she saw in his eyes took her breath away. No matter what woman was bidding on him, he wanted her, and his gaze was saying it. Amazing. It was as if she were reading his very thought. A surge of wanting and desire sizzled through her bloodstream as he continued to hold her gaze, almost daring her to look away, deny the silent statement he was making. Memories of sharing a bed with him with her body pulled tight against him, his strong body pressed against hers, infiltrated her mind, consumed her thoughts. Only Trask’s strong voice penetrated her daze when he said:

“Angela Meadows has offered twenty thousand. Do I have twenty-one?”

The room got quiet, and Angela remained standing with a smug look on her face. Netherland turned around to look at the woman before returning her gaze to Ashton. Her gaze locked on his strong jaw and slightly curved lips, and he was looking at her as if he could read her mind as she had read his earlier.

Trask’s voice rang out loud. “Going once, going twice—”

Netherland quickly stood. “Twenty-five thousand dollars.”

The audience erupted in cheers and applause. Evidently the majority of the women present didn’t want Ashton to fall into Angela’s hands.

It was quite obvious to everyone that Angela was upset with Netherland’s bid and was not about to be undone. “Thirty!” she snapped, glaring across the room at Netherland.

Netherland stared at the woman in wide-eyed startlement. Was Angela that intent on having Ashton? From the smirk on the woman’s face Netherland quickly concluded that she was. Netherland couldn’t help but wonder just how much money the woman was willing to put out for Ashton. “Thirty-five,” Netherland countered.

The room got quiet, and Netherland refused to even think about where she would get thirty-five thousand dollars. Oh, well, she might as well kiss
good-bye the money she had put aside to renovate the entrance to Sisters.

“Thirty-five thousand dollars!” Trask’s voice crowed. “Netherland Brooms has bid thirty-five thousand dollars for Colonel Sinclair. Will you make it thirty-six, Miss Meadows?”

Nervous tension filled the room as Angela stood glowering at Netherland. She looked up toward the stage at Ashton. “I want to bid fifty thousand dollars.”

Everyone, including Trask, was stunned. The room erupted in mass pandemonium once again. On stage it appeared that Ashton was taking it rather well and for a moment Netherland wondered if perhaps he wanted Angela instead of her since he seemed so calm about it. But then she noticed there appeared to be an odd expression on his face. He looked at her, and it seemed he was again reading her thoughts and was bothered by the uncertainty he read in them. He moved his lips in an intimate smile that was meant to assure her. It did. Any doubt she had resolved as he continued to look at her, smiling at her and silently beckoning her to believe in him.

Trask rapped the gavel on the podium for a full three minutes before regaining order in the room. “Miss Meadows has bid fifty thousand dollars, and all of it is destined for the Children Home Society. Is there a higher bid than fifty?”

Netherland swallowed deeply and was about to open her mouth to place a higher bid when some
where in the back of the room, a female voice said, “I’m offering a bid of one hundred thousand dollars.”

Simultaneous gasps spread throughout the room as everyone stretched their necks toward the back to see who had placed such a high bid.

“Close the bidding. Now,” Ashton ordered as he whispered for Trask’s ears only. Trask quickly moved to do just that before either Angela or Nettie could gather her wits and attempt to outbid the woman standing in the back.

“Going once, going twice,” Trask called out. “Awarded!” he proclaimed. “For one hundred thousand dollars to…” He frowned. “Sorry, ma’am, I didn’t get your name.”

Everyone watched as the young woman came forward. The males in the room, some of whom had become slightly bored with the bidding between Angela and Nettie, sat up straight in their chairs and cleared their throats. The young woman whose age appeared to be in her early twenties was utterly gorgeous. When she reached the front of the room everyone stared at her in expectant silence. Netherland felt her heart completely drop to the floor. She had lost out on her opportunity to spend a weekend with Ashton.

The woman turned around and faced the audience. “My name is Mackenzie Standfield,” she said, speaking clearly and loudly for all to hear. “I’m an attorney with the Oklahoma law firm of Standfield, Di Meglio and Mahoney. The bid of one hundred thousand was
made on behalf of my client, Ashton Sinclair. Mr. Sinclair supports the Children Home Society and wanted to make this bid on himself, which allows him to select the woman he wants to take to New Orleans.”

“He can’t do that!” Angela Meadows’s voice rang out loud in the room. She was clearly upset with the outcome of events.

“Yes, he can,” Mackenzie Standfield responded to Angela. “My firm reviewed the rules for this event carefully. This is not a contest. Anyone can make the winning bid—even a participant—since all the proceeds are going to charity.” She then turned her attention to the stage. “Mr. Sinclair will now select the woman of his choice.”

When his attorney stepped aside, Ashton slowly walked off the stage with a dozen roses in his hand.

Netherland’s heart thudded in her chest as she watched Ashton walk over toward her. She inhaled sharply, deeply and almost to the point of not exhaling when she realized what he was about to do. The gaze in his eyes held hers with unspoken confirmation.

Ashton’s long legs made the pace easy for him, and he closed the distance between him and Netherland in record time. When he reached her he kept his gaze locked with hers. He handed her the dozen roses as he said loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, “I choose you, Netherland.”

Cheers, catcalls, whistles and applause ripped through the room. Then in a soft, intimate voice for
Netherland’s ears only, he bent his head toward her and whispered, “I choose you, Netherland, for always.”

“Ashton—” Netherland could barely squeeze the one word past the deep lump in her throat. A single tear escaped her eye. She pulled a single rose out of her bouquet and handed it to him and said softly, “And I choose you, too, for always.”

The corner of Ashton’s mouth tilted into a smile. He accepted the rose before pulling Netherland into his arms. Ignoring everyone and everything around them, he kissed her.

There wasn’t a dry feminine eye left in the house. It seemed every woman was crying. Except for Angela Meadows, who angrily walked out.

“Well, folks,” Trask was saying as he looked over the audience and saw how emotional they had become. Even his own wife, Felicia, was sobbing. He shook his head. “That ends the auction portion of tonight’s affair. I must admit that this evening has been quite interesting. We appreciate what each and every one of you have done for the Children Home Society. Stick around for the dance that will follow immediately.”

Corinthians Avery Grant wiped her eyes as she tapped her husband on the shoulder. He turned around and looked at her. “Yes, sweetheart, what is it?”

“I hate to be a party pooper, but I’m in labor.”

Trevor sat up straight. So did everyone at the table. Ashton and Netherland, who were still kissing, hadn’t heard a thing. “How far apart are the pains?”

“Five minutes.”

Trevor was up out of his seat. “Five minutes! Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“I wanted to stick around to see who would get Ashton. I didn’t want Angela to have him.”

Trevor frowned. “Well, you better hope our baby holds tight until I get you to the hospital.” He took in a deep breath, looked around and began barking out orders. “Syneda, call Dr. Morgan and let him know we’re on our way to the hospital.” He looked over at Dex and reached into his pocket and pulled out his car keys. “Make sure my car is out front immediately,” he said, tossing the keys across the table to him. He glanced at Justin. “I need you, Doc, just in case this baby wants to be born on the side of the road.” He turned to Clayton. “I need you just in case I’m stopped by the police for speeding and can’t talk my way out of it.” He looked at the elder Madarises. “Please call my parents and let them know what’s going on. Corinthians’s parents are in town, and Mom and Dad will know how to reach them.”

He then noticed that Ashton still had Netherland in his arms kissing her. He jabbed his elbow in Ashton’s side.

Ashton glanced up sharply. He frowned. “What the—”

“Your godchild decided to make an appearance tonight. Let’s go.”

Picking up his wife in his arms, Trevor made a move to exit the building while everyone jumped to
follow his orders. Corinthians smiled at everyone. “What can I say? You can take the man out of the military but you can’t take the military out of the man. He looks for any excuse to give orders.”

When a hard labor pain struck her, she decided to be quiet and save her breath for later.