He traced a forefinger over her cheekbone and peered deep into her eyes.
“I’ve not been with a woman in years,” he offered. “You… Dammit. You…”
Then he broke away, shaking his head. She watched as he tucked that marvelous cock of his inside his pants and straightened the rest of his clothing. Finally, rubbing his hands over his face, he lifted his gaze to look at her again. “I’m sorry. I should have had more control.”
She shook her head, ready to say something-to say, No, it was me. I should have had more control. You are so damned irresistible-but he grasped her by the forearms and scooted her out of the way, and left.
Six months flew through Bree’s psyche with a flash of memory. All of a sudden, she knew why Carson had looked so familiar. She’d not paid him much attention that day, her world totally filled with the man standing before her now. Jake Baldwin. Ginger hadn’t questioned later that day when she said they couldn’t take the two men on as clients. They had an unspoken rule that when one of them said no, the other listened. It was professional suicide, she knew, but it couldn’t happen.
But Jake and Carson had not called back, making it easy.
Now, here they stood, facing each other again.
“So you got your way, huh?” She hooked into his gaze and held.
Shaking himself, Jake took a tentative step forward. “The house, you mean.”
“Yes.”
“We compromised. Sort of.”
“It’s a lovely place.”
The connection between them was magnetic, and she felt drawn to him like she was the back end of a rubber band. It didn’t help that he was slowly walking toward her, increasing the tension.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
Bree glanced over her shoulder. “Oh. The benefit. Volunteering. The company…”
He nodded. “I see.” Then, staring off to the side, added, “I couldn’t call back.”
“I was glad you didn’t.”
He jerked back to look at her. “It was…complicated.”
Nodding, she agreed. “Yes.”
“Bree…”
She closed her eyes at the sound of her name rolling off his tongue. With him out of sight, the distance between them was even more palpable. Her chest quavered with pins and needles, every nerve ending on edge. And then…
He touched her. Gently. Taking her hand in his.
“I have never been so fascinated by a woman…” he whispered. “And I’ve not been able to get you out of…”
Noise from the living area interrupted their encounter, and Ginger and Ted burst into the kitchen on its heels. They broke away from each other. Jake sidestepped her and moved toward the entrance to the great room. Turning, Bree watched him disappear into the room; then she exhaled, long and hard.
“Goddamn…”
Chapter Three
“Get this auction over and get these people the hell out of here.”
Jake made a bee-line to Carson and hissed out the words in his ear. Turning, his partner studied his face, narrowed his gaze, and dipped his head in agreement. Jake hadn’t intended for the words to come out in such a blunt, angry manner, but they had.
“My, what a cheery character you are this Christmas Eve,” Carson replied. “You better be careful, Santa may leave you nothing but stones in your stocking.” He backed away, swept a hand in front of him and added with sarcasm, “Your wish is my command, sir.”
Jake’s stomach turned. He was an ass and knew it. Taking a half step forward, he reached out for Carson, who turned abruptly and stalked off.
“Shit.” The curse slipped between his teeth.
He watched as Carson threaded through the crowd and toward the front of the room where Grace Walker was holding court with what was left of the partiers. He whispered in her ear, then took the center stage himself while Grace stepped to the side.
“Jake and I certainly want to thank each and every one of you for coming this evening, particularly with this unexpected weather,” he began. “Who would have thought? Snow on Christmas Eve in Albuquerque?”
The crowd chuckled, and he continued. “But the evening is long, and I just heard that law enforcement is recommending people get home and stay off the roads. We want you to use your own judgment. Know that we have guest accommodations here for anyone who would rather not travel home this evening. But for those of you who are eager to leave, we have one more item up for auction.”
He paused and scanned the room. Jake’s gut tightened.
“You may have noticed our lovely cocktail waitresses this evening.” He pointed toward the bar at the back of the room; Jake followed his direction and bristled. Bree and her business partner-Ginger? He hadn’t really focused much on her-they were busying themselves behind it cleaning up. Both of their heads lifted, and they nodded as the crowd turned their way. Ginger smiled broadly. Bree gave a slight smile and glanced off. “In case you didn’t know,” Carson went on, “these generous ladies are the owners of Conner & Baker Realty. They volunteered their time this evening. All of the tips they earned,” he glanced back over the crowd, “from all of you generous people, will be donated to the homeless shelter. Let’s hear it for our sexy servers!”
The crowd clapped madly.
“Come up here! Come!” Carson waved toward the women.
Jake wondered what in hell Carson was up to.
The last thing Bree wanted at the moment was to parade herself in front of all the party-goers and Jake Baldwin and Carson Graham. Could people tell how distracted and turned on she was by him? Them? Shit, yes, there was Carson too, with whom she’d been making eyes all evening…and who had slipped his finger up her dress earlier, taunting her.
Talk about libido confusion. Seemed like they all had it. At the moment, she didn’t trust her sexual psyche.
But here she was, being pushed from behind the bar to the center of attention by a giggling Ginger. “Move it, honey. This is the part we’ve been waiting for.”
Bree stopped and grasped Ginger’s arm. “What are you talking about?”
“No time now.”
“Yes. Time. Now.”
“The crowd is watching.”
“I don’t give a flying fucking leap! Tell me what is going on.”
Ginger huffed, her eyes darting back and forth. Leaning closer, she whispered, “Just shut up and follow my lead. It’s for the shelter. We’re getting auctioned.”
“We?” Panic seized her chest. “Auctioned?”
“Yes.”
“The company, right?”
“No. You. Me.”
“Fuck.”
“That’s not part of the deal. Not unless you want it to be.” She grinned slyly. “Seriously, we just donate twenty-four hours of our time to whoever buys us. I’m sure it will be shelter-related, or something like that.”
“Dammit, Ginger! You knew this ahead of time?”
“Yes. Now, shut up and smile. You’re on first.”
Ginger Baker, I will make you freakin’ pay! If the truth be known, Bree was glad for the anger that raced over her at that moment. It replaced the confused sexual crap that was rolling around in her head seconds earlier.
The crowd cheered and clapped wildly again, and suddenly Bree found herself being catapulted forward into the throng, and before she knew it, was standing on an ottoman and Grace Walker was saying…
“May I have five thousand, please?”
As they used to say back home in Southern Ohio, What. The. Hell?