Underneath It All. Lori BorrillЧитать онлайн книгу.
talking about.” He picked up his drink and took a sip. “I wonder if the blonde works for the show.”
“If she does she’s a millionaire. You heard about that, didn’t you?” When Devon shook his head, Bryce explained, “A bunch of them won Lot ‘O’Bucks. They’re all millionaires—the brunette for sure.” He added with a shrug, “Maybe they’re here to spend their fortune.”
“Deep pockets would certainly work in my favor.” Setting his drink on the bar, he added, “I think I’ll go introduce myself.”
Bryce opened his mouth, no doubt to object, but before he could speak a low voice behind them interrupted.
“Why, if it isn’t my favorite investment broker. How much am I going to have to pay for you tonight?”
The cold chill told Devon it was Abigail Westlaw, a local real estate agent with whom he, in a temporary loss of sanity, had made the mistake of sleeping with. Once. Granted, it wasn’t that he didn’t find Abbey attractive enough to go back for seconds. A fair share of heat had simmered between them. The problem was that no sooner had they finished their morning coffee than Abbey was all over town spreading every detail of the tryst to anyone who would listen.
And thanks to that, out of the woodwork came a dozen other men who’d shared heat with Abbey, all interested in comparing notes.
Call him old fashioned, but Devon had never been interested in communal sex. He preferred being the one-and-only, and if he’d taken his time and gotten to know the woman better, he would have discovered before making the mistake that Abbey Westlaw liked her men frequent and interchangeable.
He forced a smile and replied, “Why bid on used goods? Surely, you’d be more interested in someone new and shiny.”
Please?
She threw her head back in an overexaggerated laugh and slung a bony arm over his shoulder. “Devon, you were always the funny one.”
The funny one?
Wincing, he tried to remain calm, remembering there were worse things than spending a romantic evening with Abbey. Though off the top of his head, he couldn’t come up with any.
Abbey kissed him on the cheek and gave his arm a squeeze.
“If the price is right, I might go home with several prizes tonight,” she said, her expression stating she had no clue as to how bad that sounded. “I just wanted you to know you’re my first choice.”
And with that, she walked off, leaving him standing at the bar with one sinking pit in his stomach.
2
“I HOPE YOU’VE COME prepared to lose,” said Devon’s brother, Todd. “I’ve got several women in this room ready to fork out big dollars for a slice of the best looking Bradshaw.”
“I’m glad you’ve come with confidence,” Devon replied half-heartedly. He wasn’t terribly interested in engaging in another battle of egos with the baby of the family. Abbey’s parting words were still hanging in his ears, leaving him thoroughly annoyed with his brother for talking him into this mess.
“It’s not confidence, it’s strategy,” Todd said, pointing a finger to his forehead. “A good gambler knows the way to win is to tilt the odds in his favor. So while you were standing here holding hands with Bryce, I’ve been securing bidders.” He scanned the room and smiled. “And I’ve got my odds set on a sexy redhead named Tammy.”
Devon had to admit, before spotting the blonde he hadn’t considered working the room, even though most of the men here tonight had been casually mingling through the crowd. He was still a little put off by the idea of auctioning himself off like a steer marked for stud. Playing along by actively promoting himself tipped the weird meter a bit too far.
But for Todd, this kind of thing was right up his alley. The born salesman of the three Bradshaw boys, Todd could talk a vagrant out of his last dollar and leave him sorry he couldn’t give more. Add the heat of competition and the spark of a friendly wager and this night was Todd’s all around, the kind of thing he was made for.
Their father hadn’t been stupid to put Todd in charge of investor acquisitions at the firm. He loved talking people out of their money and though Devon often found his younger brother’s ego tiresome, he had to admit Todd was good at his job.
Which was why Devon showed up tonight already accepting surrender. From the moment Todd could walk and talk the family learned not to go up against him when it came to competition. Even as kids at their old church fundraisers, if someone raised twenty dollars, Todd would work double-time to raise twenty-one. The little snot would do anything to win, and it was decades ago that Devon, Bryce and Gracie all learned it was easier to not compete than suffer through the lengths he’d go to come out on top.
But though Devon had no interest in trying to beat Todd tonight, he most certainly wanted to end up on a date with the only woman in the room who perked his interest—among other things.
Still talking among her friends, she’d turned around, giving him a glorious view of one heart-shaped behind, and he clenched his hands into fists as if to ward off the desire to walk over and caress them over her ass. Just that one heated glance they’d shared had left him feeling as though he had the right, as if he’d claimed her through the crowd, and he had to forcefully pull his civility back in check.
Like a caveman considering walking over and dragging her off to his cave, the woman had somehow reached in and yanked on his most primal instinct to conquer and possess, and before he approached her, he needed to remind himself that his species had supposedly evolved.
Right now, however, it didn’t feel like it.
“How about you? You got any prospects lined up?” Todd asked.
“Abigail Westlaw,” Bryce said with a smirk.
“Yeah, you and twenty others.” Todd studied Devon as if he were sizing up the competition. “Really, no joke. You haven’t talked to any women here tonight?”
“I was about to introduce myself to a lovely blonde,” Devon said, moving his gaze back across the room.
“The blonde from Just Between Us?” Todd asked.
“You know her?” Devon asked, his interest in his brother piquing.
Todd glanced over to the blonde and the two women she was with. “Know of her. She’s one of the producers of the TV show. Eve Best,” he said, pointing to the shorter brunette, “she’s the host. The shorter blonde with them is an assistant.” He shrugged and sipped his beer. “I don’t know them. I just happened to be there when the assistant was talking to the organizer. They’re here for the show. Want to do a segment on bachelor auctions, I guess.”
“So they aren’t here to bid on bachelors,” Devon said, his hopes sinking by the minute.
“Got no idea.”
“Well, there’s one way to find out,” Devon said. He moved toward the woman, but Todd stopped him.
“Whoa, where are you going? Evanne wants us up on stage. We’re next.”
“Already? They’ve barely started this thing.”
“Sorry, bro. If you haven’t talked yourself up to the women yet, you’re out of time. You should have jumped on the chance when you had it.”
Brilliant. Up for auction and the only woman openly interested was the last woman he cared to go on a date with. He thought of Abigail and the prospect of her winning, and for once he had to agree with his brother—that moving more quickly might have helped his situation.
Now, he’d have to move to the stage and leave the outcome to Fate.
Picking up his drink for one final sip, he hoped the stars would be on his side.
“HERE’S TONIGHT’S FEATURE, ladies. Two wealthy,