Aunt Mary took the stage by her side, wearing a sapphire dress that hid her less-than-lean waist but displayed most of her ample bosom. Christina felt the collective awe of her guests.
“Gentlemen,” she called, “feast your eyes on this lovely girl. Imagine, if you will, plucking the petals of her untouched flower and making her a woman.”
-120-
The Lady and the Dragon
Someone groaned. Christina saw the men’s hungry gazes wrap around her tighter, squeezing the air from her lungs in a terrified rush. She closed her eyes to block out the view.
“A genuine virgin, ripe for the picking,” Mary said in a throaty voice. “For the right price. Because she is my niece, you are assured the bonus of passionate blood. Jonathan…”
The audience clapped as Mary gestured to a man in the corner, dressed to the nines in immaculate black and white.
This whole event seemed much like a nightmare. God, why couldn’t she wake up tomorrow and discover that’s all the last three hellish days had been?
Jonathan, the auctioneer, tossed her an impassive gaze before positioning himself at the front of the room. “Bidding begins at one hundred pounds, gentlemen.”
“One hundred,” called three men at once.
Christina’s stomach threatened to revolt. She clenched her fingers into tight fists.
“One hundred fifty.”
“Two hundred.”
“Three hundred twenty-five!”
Her every pore burned with shame. In retrospect, not questioning her aunt’s way of life, which Grandfather had always referred to as shocking, had been foolish. In fact, failing to plan details, ask questions and think her life through—all mistakes. Too late for regrets now. She spied the old man she’d smiled at earlier and gave him another encouraging grin.
He mopped his damp brow. “Four hundred pounds.”
She let out a deep breath at this good development. Still, she wondered about the Black Dragon’s presence. Had he come to witness her downfall?
Worse to contemplate, maybe he had come for the same reason every other man in this room. He had yet to say a word, give her a hint, to ease her anxiety. But she wasn’t his responsibility, and Christina knew she could not expect him to intercede on her behalf.
She had to escape this mess without him.
-121-
Shelley Bradley
Holding her breath, she prayed no one else would bid after the older gentleman.
“Five hundred,” called the young man who had threatened to enjoy her for a long time.
“Five fifty,” replied the older man again. The quiet, even tone of his voice set her at ease.
She cast a quick glance at the Black Dragon before she could stop herself.
His stoic expression showed no emotion.
“Six hundred,” came the young man again.
Christina batted her eyelashes at the older man. Please, please bid again!
Her target sighed. “Six seventy-five.”
The reluctance in his voice didn’t encourage her. The knot in her stomach tightened.
His young opponent laughed. “Give over, Smithers. I can outbid you any day. We all know that.” He ogled her again. “Seven hundred fifty pounds.”
A dense silence followed.
Christina’s stomach careened in a sickening slide to her toes. She looked to the Black Dragon in panic. Yes, she wanted to be an independent woman, but sometimes life forced one to accept help. Like now.
The captain merely raised a brow.
“Seven hundred fifty pounds is the last bid, gentlemen,” reminded Jonathan. He let a significant pause slide over the room. “Seven hundred fifty pounds going once.” His gaze scanned the hushed crowd, then rested on Christina.
Wasn’t the captain going to say anything?
“She’s lovely goods gentlemen,” Jonathan added. “Are you planning to allow Mr. Caulfield steal her from you all?”
No one breathed, it seemed. Not even the Black Dragon. Blast him! Panic surged. Her heart raced.
“Twice,” Jonathan said.
She turned her expression of undisguised terror toward the captain and found his gaze focused on the auctioneer.
-122-
The Lady and the Dragon
Her eyes slid shut with the knowledge that her future was nearly ruined and her humiliation just beginning.
“Well, then, the lady is—”
“One thousand pounds,” another voice thundered into Jonathan’s speech.
“In gold.”
The sound of the audience’s gasp receded as Christina’s eyes snapped open followed the voice to the back of the room. But she’d know that voice anywhere.
The Black Dragon.
Relief swept over her. The edges of her vision turned fuzzy, her equilibrium tilted dizzily, whether from the tight dress or shock, she wasn’t sure.
The captain pushed away from the burgundy-papered wall and strode between the aisles of chairs, his masculine grace shouting lethality. Around him, the room stopped.
The young bidder’s face turned a mottled red. He whirled to find his new opponent. When the Black Dragon entered his line of vision, mask, weapons and half-concealed tattoo, the blond man’s eyes widened as his complexion waxed white.
The captain approached Mr. Caulfield with a slow, purposeful gait. The man stood his ground.
In a seemingly casual pose, the Black Dragon shifted his hand closer to the gun at his thigh. “I’d be vastly disappointed if you were to outbid me,” the captain said.
Surely everyone in the room saw the meaning of his veiled threat. She held her breath, waiting for his reply.
“She’s not that beautiful,” Caulfield said, then shrugged.
“I’d hoped you weren’t stupid,” said the captain. He followed the words with a chilly smile.
“Take her,” the other man insisted with a gesture to Christina. “She’s not worth what you paid.”
She swallowed her tears at the crass exchange, wishing to God she were anywhere else. She glanced at the Black Dragon. His eyes were black with fury and another emotion she couldn’t quite name.
-123-
Shelley Bradley
“Sold!” shouted Jonathan. “For one thousand pounds.”
The nightmare was over. Christina sagged into her chair, not certain whether to clap wildly or burst into heaving sobs.
As the grumbling guests stood, then made their way to Mary’s waiting girls, her aunt bent to whisper in her ear. “I knew he would come for you.”
Dazed, Christina turned to her aunt. Yes, the captain had come for her.
He’d paid one thousand pounds for the privilege.
What exactly did he expect in return?
She lifted her gaze to him, waiting for him to do or say something. He merely returned her stare with a weighty one of his own that set the uncertainty in Christina’s stomach whirling.
Then the Black Dragon strode toward her, his gait swift, his mien possessive. Too many emotions to name assailed her.
“Good luck, child,” her aunt prattled on. “You may call upon me if you fall on hard times again.”
Christina shot her aunt a disbelieving glare. After all the horror she’d endured, being locked in one room for two days, forced to listen to a revolting explanation of sex that involved men shoving hard flesh into her various orifices, being sold like common slave, Christina would never come here again, no matter how desperate a twist her life took.
Without a word, she turned her back on her aunt.
She faced the Black Dragon, head held high. Anger rolled off of him in waves.
Her emotions brewed like acid in a boiling cauldron. She had a million questions, yet she could find no words. His ominous expression said that her situation was still tenuous.
Aunt Mary wore a polite but amused smile. “I believe there’s a small matter of payment.”
He opened a small sack he’d strapped around his hips and counted out a brimming handful of gold coins. He gave them over to her aunt without a word—without even looking at her.