Hidden Pleasures. Brenda JacksonЧитать онлайн книгу.
walk off. Evidently they wanted the same house Brittany would be bidding on. He shrugged, thinking it wasn’t any of his business. That was the nature of an auction and there was no reason for him to get involved. Then he released a short laugh. Who in the hell was he fooling? Even when she had been in New York he’d made her his business. Time just hadn’t lent itself for anything more than a confrontation between them.
He glanced at his watch before pulling his cell phone out of the back pocket of his jeans. The push of one button had his phone connected to Eli.
“What do you want, Galen?”
He smiled. Eli was the moody brother. Ready for chitchat one minute and a grouch the next. “I’m still here at the auction mart. I need you to fax me a loan approval letter with an open line of credit.”
“What do you think I am, your banker?” his brother snapped.
“Just work miracles and do it and stop whining.”
“Dammit, what’s the fax number?”
“How the hell do I know? Just look it up.” He quickly hung up the phone before Eli decided to get real ugly.
Galen made his way toward the auction area. Following the crowd, he wondered just when he’d begun rescuing damsels in distress. It was a disconcerting thought for a Steele, but in this case it was one he was looking forward to doing.
Chapter Four
Brittany got nervous as she glanced around the room. It was crowded, wall to wall. She knew there were fifteen homes being auctioned off today and she hoped none of these people were interested in the one she wanted. She would do as Nikki had suggested and think positive.
She smiled when she thought of how she’d run into her friend again after all these years. Although she’d had other friends, she’d never felt that special closeness with them that she’d felt with Nikki. And now they had agreed to do a better job of staying in touch and would start off rekindling their friendship by going out to dinner tonight. They had so much to catch up on.
She checked her watch. The auction would start in less than ten minutes and she was already nervous. This was the first time she’d ever attended an auction and hoped it wouldn’t take long to get to her house.
Her house.
Already she was thinking of it as hers. She couldn’t wait to go inside and look around. And she bet if she tried hard enough she would be able to feel her mother’s presence. She shifted in her seat at the same time the hair on the back of her neck stood up. She scanned the room, wondering about the reason for her eerie feeling. But she didn’t know anyone in the room, and no one here knew her.
The announcer at the front of the room hit his gavel on the table several times to get everyone’s attention. She glanced down at the program and saw her house was listed as number eight. She pulled in a nervous breath when the auctioneer announced the auction had begun.
Galen was satisfied to sit in the back where he could see everything going on, and had a pretty good view of Brittany Thrasher. He also had a good view of those two guys who wanted her house. Of course he didn’t plan to let them have it. Hopefully she had enough cash on hand to handle her own affairs, but in case she didn’t, then unknowingly she had a guardian angel.
The thought of him being any woman’s angel had him chuckling. He didn’t do anything without an ulterior motive, and in her case he didn’t have to dig deep to find out what it was. He wanted her in his bed. Or, if she preferred, her bed. It really didn’t matter to him at this point.
He leaned back in his chair as he thought about all the heat the two of them could and would generate. But he had a feeling that with Brittany Thrasher he would need to proceed with caution. There was something about her and this intense desire he was feeling whenever he looked at her that he just couldn’t put his finger on. But he would.
“Now we will move on to house number eight,” the auctioneer was saying, interrupting his thoughts. For now it was a good thing.
“Who would like to open the bid?”
Brittany’s heart raced when the bidding had officially begun on her house. She had gone on the Internet last night and visited the Web site that outlined the most effective way to participate in an auction. Rule number one said you should not start off the bid. Instead you should scope out the bidders to see if and when you could enter the fray. The key was knowing how much money you had and working with that.
The minimum bid had been set and so far the bidding remained in what she considered a healthy range with only three people actually showing interest. The highest bid was now at thirty-five thousand with only two people left bidding. She decided to enter at forty-six thousand.
She kept her eyes straight ahead on the auctioneer and didn’t bother looking back to see who the other bidders were. That was another rule. Keep your eyes on the prize and not your opponents.
“We have a bid of fifty-two thousand. Do I hear fifty-three?”
She lifted her hand. “Fifty-three.”
“We have a fifty-three. What about fifty-five?”
“Fifty-five.”
Brittany couldn’t resist looking sideways and saw a short, stocky man had made the bid. A nervousness settled in the pit of her stomach at the thought that the man wanted her house.
“We’ve got fifty-five. Do I hear fifty-seven?”
She lifted her hand. “Fifty-seven.”
“The lady’s bid is fifty-seven. Do I hear a sixty?”
“Seventy.”
Brittany gasped under her breath at the high jump. Her approval letter was for a hundred thousand. She’d figured since the taxes were less than that it would be sufficient. Now she practically squirmed in her seat.
“We have seventy. Do I hear a seventy-two?”
She raised her hand. “Seventy-two.” There were only two people left bidding, and she wondered how far the man would go in his bids.
She couldn’t help but turn at that moment and regard the man. He flashed a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He wanted her house and—
“We have seventy-two. Can we get a seventy-five?” the auctioneer interrupted her thoughts by asking.
“Seventy-five,” the man quickly spoke up.
The room got silent and she knew why. They had reached the amount of the taxes that were due, but the auctioneer would continue until someone had placed the highest bid.
“We have seventy-five. Can we get eighty?”
Galen sighed, getting bored. The bidding for this particular house could go on all evening and he was ready for it to come to an end. It was obvious to everyone in the room that both of the two lone bidders wanted the house and would continue until someone conceded. He seriously doubted either would.
“We have eighty-six. Can we get an eighty-eight?” the auctioneer asked.
The short, stocky man raised his hand at eighty-eight.
“Can we get ninety?”
Brittany raised her hand. “Ninety.” She had sent a text message to her banker for an updated approval letter asking for an increase but hadn’t gotten a response. What if he was out of the office and hadn’t gotten her request? She couldn’t let anyone else get her house.
She glanced across the room at the man bidding against her. He appeared as determined as she was to keep bidding.
“We have ninety. Can we get ninety-two?”
“Two hundred thousand dollars.”
Everyone in the room, including Brittany and the short, stocky man gasped. Even the auctioneer seemed surprised. Brittany closed her