She was also the most beautiful woman Travis had ever seen in his life.
Peggy had said she was blonde and blue-eyed. With great hair, a great face and a great body.
All correct. And all wrong, because those words didn’t come anywhere close to describing her.
Her hair was a cascade of silk the color of ripening wheat, her eyes the color of Texas bluebells. Her face was a perfect oval, with those incredible blue eyes darkly lashed and wide-set under slender, arched brows. She had a proud, straight nose, a sexy indentation above her mouth…
Oh, that mouth. The full upper lip. The softly curved lower one.
It was a mouth made for kissing.
His gaze dropped lower, to the tanned shoulders left bare by a halter-necked dress the color of garnets, to the generous lift of her breasts, the slender waist and rounded hips. Her skirt ended at midthigh, revealing a long length of shapely leg.
His blood hummed in his ears.
He wanted her. Wanted her with a primal need and desire that surpassed anything he’d ever known. He wanted to kiss that mouth, caress that body…and melt the coldness that clung to her like an invisible sheath of ice. He could see it in her posture. In the way she didn’t so much as blink when his eyes met hers again. In the defiant lift of her chin.
He knew she could see the frank, sexual appraisal in his gaze—and that it didn’t matter a damn to her.
Look all you like, she seemed to say, but don’t be foolish enough to think you can have what you see.
Travis felt his body tighten. The sounds of the cheering women, the drone of the auctioneer, faded to a dull roar.
He imagined himself coming down off that stage. Going to her. Taking her in his arms. No words. No niceties. Just taking her in his arms, carrying her out of the ballroom to a place where they’d be alone, ripping that piece of dark red silk from her body and burying himself deep inside her while she wrapped her arms and legs around him…
Oh, hell.
He was standing in front of hundreds of people, thinking things that could only bring a man public humiliation. Stop it, he told himself fiercely, and he tore his gaze from her, thought about cold showers and forced himself to focus on the delighted faces of the crowd.
“I have five thousand,” the auctioneer shouted. “Do I hear six?”
“Six,” the lady in the front yelled.
Travis fixed his attention on her. He flashed a sexy smile. She squealed. He turned his back to the audience, looked over his shoulder and pretended he was going to slip his jacket off.
The crowd whooped and cheered.
“Six-five,” a brunette shouted. Travis turned and blew her a kiss.
He didn’t need the blonde Ice Princess. He had a trio of women in a frenzied bidding war over him. What more could a guy ask?
“Seven,” a stunning redhead said.
“Hey,” he shouted, “I’m worth a lot more than that!”
The crowd stamped its well-shod feet in approval. The brunette laughed, and another redhead shot to her feet. “Seven-five,” she called, and everybody cheered and applauded.
Travis grinned. The guy from Hannan and Murphy had gone for five.
“I’m worth more than that, too,” he yelled.
The crowd loved it.
“Eight,” the lady in the front said.
“Eight-five,” the brunette shouted.
“Nine!”
Travis laughed. The evening he’d dreaded was turning out to be fun. One more glance at the blonde, that was all, before the gavel swung down. Not that it mattered. He’d probably overestimated her looks. If she’d walked farther into the room so that she was closer to the stage, he’d have seen her flaws.
What flaws?
She had come closer, while the bidding was raging. She was almost at the stage and Lord, she wasn’t beautiful, she was spectacular.
And she was looking at him. Her expression was difficult to read. Interested, yes, but it seemed…
Speculative. As if she were appraising him. And finding him wanting.
Travis’s hands knotted at his sides as the woman turned swiftly and started back up the aisle.
Who did this babe think she was, to check him out and then walk away? Turn around, he thought furiously, turn around!
The woman’s pace increased.
Travis took a step forward. To hell with the auction!
“Nine thousand,” the auctioneer shouted, and the crowd roared. “Nine thousand once. Nine thousand twice…”
“Ten,” the brunette screamed.
The blonde woman stopped. That’s it, baby, Travis thought. Turn around. Look at me.
And she did. Her eyes met his. Their gazes locked, and held. For one breathless moment, there was no one else in the room, no one else in the universe. It was only them. Travis, and the woman.
She knew it, too.
He saw her acknowledge it as her eyes widened, saw the impact of the understanding in the sudden, rapid rise and fall of her breasts. The tip of her tongue—a pale, silken pink—slipped over her soft-looking mouth.
Travis’s eyes bored into hers. Do it, he thought. Do it, do it…
“Going once,” the auctioneer said, “to the lady at table three, for ten thousand dollars. Going twice. Going—”
“Twenty thousand dollars.”
The crowd gasped. Every head swiveled toward the woman with the blond hair. Even the auctioneer leaned forward.
“Would you repeat your bid, please, madam?”
The woman took a deep breath. Travis thought he saw her tremble but he knew he must have been mistaken, because when she spoke again, her voice was cool, controlled, and touched with something that bordered on amusement.
“I said, I bid twenty thousand dollars.”
Bang went the gavel. “Sold,” the auctioneer said, triumphantly, “to the lady in red.”
And the crowd in the ballroom of the Hotel Paradise went wild.
CHAPTER TWO
THE bang of the gavel echoed through the ballroom, but it wasn’t as loud as the sudden thump of Alexandra Thorpe’s heart.
“Sold,” the auctioneer shouted. “Sold to the lady in red.”
The lady in red, she thought numbly…
Alex thought, for an instant, her legs would buckle. She bowed her head and gripped the chair in front of her. She’d come here to buy a man, and she had. A man named Travis Baron.
A stud named Travis Baron, a little voice inside her said coldly. It was true. The man onstage was every inch a stud, if looks and attitude were anything to go by…
And now, she owned him.
Why on earth had she done something so stupid? Carl’s words had hurt, yes, but so what? Their divorce was two years old. She didn’t miss Carl, or love him; she knew now that she never really had. So, why should anything he said, anything, still haunt her? And the rest of her plan, if you could call it that, was not just stupid but sick. A woman didn’t just—a woman couldn’t just—
Awareness sizzled thought her blood.
He was looking at her. Every nerve ending in her body was screaming it.
Don’t, Alex told herself, don’t lift your head….
Stopping the rotation of the planet would have been easier. Alex caught her bottom lip between her teeth and slowly raised her eyes to the stage.
Her heart did it again, just as it had when he’d first looked at her. It took that leap within her breast that made the room spin. Travis Baron hadn’t moved. Those hot green eyes were still fixed on her as if he was a hawk and she was his prey. There was a smile of pure masculine satisfaction, tilting across his mouth—that sensual mouth—she could almost feel on her own. Everything about him, from the set of his broad shoulders, the way he stood, with his long legs planted slightly apart, sent a message, and the message was unmistakable.
I am a man, he was saying. And you are a woman. And when you and I are alone…
Panic whispered along Alex’s skin. She would never be alone with this man, or
with any other. She had learned that much from her marriage. Forgetting that lesson, tonight, had been an aberration, a foolish reaction to an overheard whisper that had called back painful memories.
What did she give a damn, if Carl had told his new wife she was frigid? Let him say what he liked, so long as he was no longer saying it to her.
Alex tore her gaze from Travis Baron’s. People were crowding around her, offering congratulations.
“What will you do with that gorgeous hunk for an entire weekend?” a woman said, and a roar of laughter went up.
She knew it was only a joke. The auction was a legitimate fund-raiser. What the winners did with their bachelors was play tennis, or golf, go dancing or to dinner…
Except, that wasn’t what she’d intended to do with him.
The thought was enough to send another wave of panic rolling through her blood. Alex smiled. She hoped she smiled, anyway, and laughed, and said she’d think of something…
With the laughter still ringing in her ears, she fled up the aisle toward the double doors that led to the lobby, and to sanity.
“Mrs. Stuart?”
Just keep walking, Alex. Smile, and keep…
“Mrs. Stuart.” A hand clasped her arm.
Alex shook off the hand. “No,” she said…and looked into the puzzled face of a gray-haired woman.
“I’m terribly sorry, Mrs. Stuart. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Alex swallowed, pulled her lips into another parody of a smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t—”
The woman smiled, too, and looped her arm through Alex’s. “We’ve met before, Mrs. Stuart. Perhaps you’ll recall? I’m Barbara Rhodes. Our husbands served on the water conservation committee together.”
“My ex-husband,” Alex said. “I use my maiden name. I’m Alexandra Thorpe now.”
The woman winced. “Yes, of course. Sorry. I’d forgotten.”
“That’s quite all right. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
“Oh, I know you’re in a hurry to pay for your purchase.”
“My purchase,” Alex said, and felt the color shoot into her face.
“Yes. We’ve set up a desk, in the lobby.” The woman led Alex toward the double doors. “But I wanted to take a moment to thank you, personally, for making tonight’s high bid.”
“Ah.” Alex smiled again and wondered if it were possible for your lips to stick to your teeth. “No need,” she said brightly. “I’m more than happy to—help out.”
“If only everyone felt that way. But let me tell you, Ms. Thorpe, they don’t. As chairperson of the auction these last two years, I know how rarely people make such generous donations.”
“Yes.” Someone batted the doors open and Alex and the chairperson stepped through them. “Well, I know—I know what fine work your organization does, Mrs. Rhodes…”
“Have you decided what you’ll do with your bachelor, Ms. Thorpe?”
Alex swallowed dryly. “No. No, I…Actually, I doubt if I’ll, ah, if I’ll use him at all, Mrs. Rhodes. I, uh, I already have plans for the weekend.”
“Oh, that’s too bad.”
“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” Alex came to a stop, opened her beaded purse and dug inside it. “Look, why don’t we do this right now? I’ll make out a check, give it to you—”
“Well, you’re supposed to pay at the desk…Oh, never mind. I’m happy to make an accommodation for you.”
Alex took out her checkbook. “The Children’s Hospital Fund, right?” Her hands were trembling. Could she write out the check and sign it so it was legible? She scrawled the name of the fund and the amount she’d bid—the incredible amount she’d bid, for a man she could only pray she’d never see again—signed her name, ripped out the check and handed it to the chairwoman, who beamed happily and clutched it to her ample breasts.
“Wonderful, Ms. Thorpe. And now…”
“And now,” Alex said with false gaiety, “I’ll just be on my way.”
“Certainly. But first, if we could just prevail upon you to stay for a few pictures, while you dance with Mr. Baron. For publicity purposes, you understand.”
Alex shook her head. “No! I mean, I just explained, I have plans…”
“For the weekend. Yes, but this will only take a few minutes.” The woman took Alex’s arm. “Do you know anything about him?”
“Not a thing,” Alex said briskly.
“Oh, he’s a fascinating man. So handsome! And those cowboy boots…” The chairwoman sighed. “Oh, if I were only twenty years younger. Unmarried. Well, and forty pounds lighter…”
She laughed gaily, and Alex tried to do the same.
“It will only take a minute, Ms. Thorpe.” She beamed a happy smile in Alex’s direction. “The TV people are here. If you and your bachelor could give them a few pictures. And a short interview? It would be wonderful publicity for the auction.”
“He’s not ‘my’ bachelor,” Alex said, rushing the words together. “You don’t understand, Mrs. Rhodes. I’ve no time to do any of this. Really, I can’t…”
“But you can, Ms. Thorpe,” a deep voice said. “And you will.”
Alex froze. The tempo of her heartbeat increased to something a rock-and-roll drummer would have envied. She took a quick step back and knew, too late, that she’d made yet another mistake because stepping back brought her into contact with the hard, male body that belonged to the voice.
Barbara Rhodes’s eyebrows flew toward her hairline, and Alex knew her fear must have shown in her face. So she took a deep breath, gave a wobbly smile and said, “Oh, dear, I can see that I’m trapped.” And then, still smiling, still feeling the race of her pulse in her throat, she turned and looked up into the face of Travis Baron.
“Hello, Sugar,” he said softly, and smiled.
Onstage, he’d looked handsome and masculine. But up close—up close…
Alex’s heartbeat ratcheted up another notch.
Up close, he was spectacular.
Tall. Tall enough so even she, at five-eight in her stocking feet, had to tilt her head back to look up to him, and she’d worn ridiculously high heels tonight, to go with the equally ridiculous dress. Tall, and gorgeous, with those hot eyes. And a nose that surely had once been broken. And that mouth. That sexy, almost cruel mouth.
Mrs. Rhodes was right. The man she’d won was handsome. He was gorgeous. He was the fulfillment of every wild, middle-of-the-night dream she’d ever had, in the long-ago days when she’d still been foolish enough to dream.
And he was dangerous. Even she could tell that.
What were you thinking tonight, Alexandra?
The chairwoman looked from Alex to Travis, and then she let out a girlish laugh. “Well. I can see I’m not needed anymore.”
“No,” Travis said bluntly, his eyes never leaving Alexandra Thorpe’s. “No, you’re not.”
“My.” Mrs. Rhodes fanned her face with Alex’s check. “My, oh my. Uh, thank you again, Mrs….Ms. Thorpe. And thank you, too, Mr. Baron. If you need anything, anything at all…”
Travis reached out, took Alex’s arm and drew her away from the chairwoman.
“Which is it?” he said.
Alex blinked. “I—I beg your pardon?”
“She called you Mrs. Then she called you Ms.”
His hand tightened on her arm. Alex looked down, saw the darkness of his fingers against the paleness of her skin. And forced herself to take a deep, deep breath.
“It’s…” Lie. Tell him you’re married. Tell him anything. Just get away. Get away, while you can…“It’s…” Her eyes met his. “If I said it was Mrs. would you go away?”
He smiled. The smile made his mouth tilt and his eyes get even darker. Most of all, it made her stomach drop toward her toes.
“Not until you introduced me to your husband, so I could see for myself what kind of man would be stupid enough to leave a woman like you so unsatisfied that she’d look at a stranger with so much hunger.”
Color flooded Alex’
s cheeks. “Mr. Baron—”
“Are you married, or aren’t you?”
“I’m divorced. And if you think I looked—that I looked…”
“I don’t think, Sugar. I know.”
Travis slid his hand down her arm, to her wrist. He’d thought of all the things he’d say to this woman as he’d battled his way through the crowd toward her. Subtle things. Soft things. How beautiful she was. What he’d felt at the sight of her. But standing close to her, with the scent of her in his nostrils and the silken feel of her skin under his fingertips, he’d suddenly known that there was no reason to be subtle, or cautious. He was on fire, and so was she, and he’d be damned if he’d play games.
“You need me,” he said, very softly. “And I need you. And I promise you, we’ll satisfy our needs before this night ends.”
His words should have shocked her. Instead, they excited her. Alex felt her body turning molten with heat. His voice was like warm, heavy cream, pouring over her, through her. She looked into those deep green eyes and thought, yes, he could do that for me, he could…
Alex, the little voice within her said sharply, whatever are you thinking?
Carefully, politely, she disengaged her hand from his.
“I’m sure that line works wonderfully wherever it is you come from, Mr. Baron.”
Travis’s eyes narrowed. “Is that what you think that was?”
“And an interesting one, I must admit.” Generations of good breeding, coupled with four years as Carl Stuart’s wife, made it possible to offer a cool smile. “But I’m afraid you’ve misread the situation.”
“You’re lying,” he said bluntly.
Alex gave a trilling laugh. “I’ll try not to take offense at that, Mr. Baron. Perhaps such comments are acceptable, in your part of the world.”
“That’s the second time you’ve made that reference.” Travis folded his arms and rocked back on his boot heels. “Is that the problem here? That you’re figuring me for a cowboy, and ladies like you don’t sleep with the hired help?”
Alex flushed. “If you’re trying to be obnoxious, Mr. Baron, let me assure you, you’re succeeding.”
“I’m being honest, Ms. Thorpe. Which is more than you’re doing.”
More Than a Mistress Page 2
