Driven(book one)(8)

I laugh out loud stepping back from him. “Not a chance in hell, Ace!”

He takes a long swallow of his drink, his expression guarded. “What are you scared of then? That you can’t resist me?” He flashes a wicked grin when I roll my eyes. “Agree then. What do you have to lose?”

“So you get a date with me and your bruised ego is restored,” I shrug indifferently, wanting no part of this contest. “What will I get out if it?”

“If you win—”

“You mean if I can resist your dazzling charm,” I retort, my voice laced with sarcasm.

“Let me rephrase. If you can resist my dazzling charm by the end of the night, then I’ll donate,” he flickers his fingers through the air in a gesture of irrelevance, “let’s say, twenty thousand dollars to your cause.”

I catch my breath and look at him in bewilderment, for this I can agree to. I know that there’s no way in hell that I’ll succumb to Donavan or his captivating wiles, the arrogant bastard. Agreed, I was caught in his tantalizing web for a few moments, but it was just because it’s been so long since I’ve felt like that. Since I’ve been kissed like that. Been touched like that.

Come to think of it, I don’t think that I have ever been made to feel like that. But then again, I know that a man has never kissed me while his lips were still warm from another woman’s.

I regard him impassively, trying to figure out the catch. Maybe there isn’t one. Maybe he’s just so cocky that he really thinks he’s that irresistible. All I know is that I’m going to increase our contribution total tonight by twenty thousand.

“Isn’t this bet going to put a damper on your evening’s pursuit of other possible bedside companions?” I pause taking a survey of the room. “It’s not looking too promising Ace, considering you’re oh for two right now.”

“I think I’ll manage,” he laughs out loud. “Don’t worry about me. I’m good at multi-tasking,” he quips, trying to beat me at my own game. “Besides, the night’s still young, and by my count the score is oh for one so far. The second score has yet to be settled.” He arches his eyebrows at me. “Don’t over think it, Rylee. It’s a bet. Plain and simple.”

I cross my arms across my chest. The decision is easy. Anything for my boys. “Better get your checkbook ready, Ace. There’s nothing I like better than proving arrogant bastards like you wrong.”

He takes another sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving mine. “You sure are certain of yourself.”

“Let’s just say that my self-control is something that I pride myself on.”

Donavan steps closer to me again. “Self-control, huh?” he murmurs, challenge dancing in his eyes. “Seems we’ve already tested that theory, Rylee, and it didn’t seem to hold true. I’d be glad to test it again, though … ”

The muscles in my core clench at the possible promise, the ache burning there, begging for relief. Why am I acting like a girl who has never felt a man’s touch before? Maybe because it has never been this man’s touch.

“Okay,” I tell him, sticking out my hand to shake his, “It’s a bet. But I’ll warn you, I don’t lose.”

He reaches out to take my hand, a broad smile lighting up his features, eyes sparkling a bold emerald. “Neither do I, Rylee,” he murmurs. “Neither do I.”

“Rylee, sorry to interrupt but we need you right now,” says a voice behind me.

I turn to find Stella, a look of panic on her face. I look toward Donavan, “If you’ll excuse me, I’m needed elsewhere.” I feel awkward in the moment. Unsure what else I should say or do.

He nods his head at me. “We’ll talk more later.”

As I walk away, I realize I’m not sure if his response is a threat or a promise.





[page]CHAPTER 3

I am sitting backstage in the chaotic aftermath of the auction, but my mind is still reeling from its events. The last hour and a half has been a blur. A successful blur in fact, but one that has come at a very high cost—primarily my dignity.

At the last minute, one of our “date” auction participants had become ill. With no one else willing to partake and programs pre-printed with a set number of participants, I begged, bribed, and pleaded with every member of my staff to step in and fill the role. Of all of the available people who were not physically needed for the facilitation of the auction, those left were either married or seriously attached to someone.

Everyone that was, except for me.

I whined, cajoled, pleaded even, but in an ironic twist that many of the staff took pleasure in, I became auction block item number twenty-two. So I had to suck it up and take one for the team, all the while ignoring a notion screaming in my subconscious that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

And believe me, I hated every f*cking minute of it! From the beauty-pageant-style introduction, to the parading around on a stage like a trophy, to the whistling catcalls of the audience, to the vapid calling of bidder’s dollar amounts by the announcer. The lights were so blinding I couldn’t see the audience, just a vague outline of figures. My time in the spotlight was a haze of embarrassment, the sound of my heartbeat rushing in my ears, and the fear that my sweating from the heat of the stage lights would leave dark marks on the underarms of my dress.