A Whole Lot of Love

The emcee urged the crowd to spend freely, to make the newcomer welcome, and opened the bidding. It went as quickly as she expected. Usually a newcomer to the process began to relax when he realized there were at least going to be bids, but Ethan didn’t look any happier now than he had before. And when the bidding finally ended—with, Layla noted without surprise, the highest total so far—he seemed nothing more than grateful to escape.

She leaned back in her chair. If Ethan Winslow couldn’t relax, she certainly could. She was always relieved when a first timer’s auction went well, and she told herself she was no more relieved than usual that his had.

Odd, she thought, she hadn’t even noticed who had made the final bid. The amount limited who it could be, she supposed; there were only a few people in that bracket. She would have to ask. It was part of her job, after all, to be aware of such things, she told herself. She would have to do a press release on the results of the auction, and of course the highest bid would be included, and who made it. So she would have to know who had paid such a high price for an evening with Ethan Winslow.

It had nothing to do with her beyond that, she assured herself.

And realized she was doing a lot of that, telling herself things meant nothing, really.

She was so deep in her thoughts that she almost missed her cue to come back out to wrap things up. She always reserved the last minutes of the evening to personally thank everyone; she owed them that, even if she would rather walk on hot coals than go out there again. But there was nothing more important to her than this cause, so go she would, and do the best she could.

“—the reason this evening is what it is, the power behind the scenes, the dynamo who organized it all, got you all here and kept things running tonight…”

She was starting to get embarrassed; Ruttles apparently did everything to excess, including introductions. At last he said her name. She steeled herself, then stepped out onto the stage. The applause was gratifying, she supposed, but she still wanted this over with.

She headed for the emcee, her hand already rising to take the portable microphone, but she paused in puzzlement a foot away when Ruttles didn’t move—in fact, held the microphone away from her.

The man looked at her with that too wide smile that had so irritated her when she’d first met him. He lifted the microphone. Began to speak.

And stunned Layla breathless.

Shock filled her as his words penetrated. She stood motionless, as if rooted to the stage she’d never wanted to take. She stared at him, sure her face was registering her horror, but unable to help it.

Every old, self-conscious feeling she’d ever had about herself came roaring back, magnified into dread. This couldn’t be happening, it couldn’t….

But it was.

Ruttles was trying to auction her off.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.