Forever Princeton Charming

by Love, Frankie

  “Look at the redhead in the corner. He keeps staring at you,” Lilah says on the other side of me. “I bet his ticket is for you. Isn’t he gorgeous?”

  She gives a little sigh, wearing her heart and her life, on her sleeve.

  We’ve given up everything for a chance at a real life of our own. Once I crossed the border into Alaska, we came under the protection of this state. We’re safe. Or as safe as I’ll ever be.

  I know people are already looking for me. Men of means and power.

  My father.

  Lawson.

  The odds of me truly escaping are next to none. But I’d rather die in this cold barren wasteland fighting for a freedom I’ve never known than spend the rest of my life as someone’s property.

  If I hadn’t run, I’d be sold to the highest bidder. Living a life of luxury sure, but I wouldn’t have been my own person in any right. I would have been beholden to a man who believes the lies the government spreads. That there is no way out of the predicament the world has found itself in. A man who saw me as nothing more than a commodity, to be bought and sold at will.

  But here, it will be different. Or at least that’s what I tell myself because there’s no turning back now.

  The redhead that Lilah mentioned, does watch me from across the room. He’s a mountain of a man, with a dark auburn beard, and kind eyes that smile at me when he sees me staring back.

  It’s a look I’m not used to. Not just lust and a desire to possess, but respect. And it gives me a flicker of hope.

  For years, I’d heard the rumors about the wild men of the north, and the community they had built. A place where women were honored and cherished.

  And free.

  I want to taste that freedom. Swim in it. I want to duck my head under fresh spring water and come up for air, having lived and loved.

  Maybe, of the six men, one will come to love me and I him. And that’s something that causes hope to stir in my chest.

  From my position on the stage, I glance out the sea of faces. A few others catch my gaze, including a pair of intense, light blue eyes that watch me from the back of the room, close to the red-headed man.

  He’s gorgeous. The man drags long fingers through short, dark blonde hair, then roughs his palm over the slightly darker scruff that coats his jaw.

  I should pull my gaze away. But I don’t. He holds my attention. His entire demeanor commanding, and I have no doubt he’s someone of importance around here. But he’s still young enough to be included in the lottery and I wonder just how many tickets he’s entered. And if any are for me.

  I shiver under his gaze and let myself have a brief second of hope that his name will be called.

  Doors shut around the now full room. The lottery is about to begin, and I feel the tension of the men mounting. There are a few who look bored, leaning against the back wall, hands crossed over their large chests. But most have an intensity in their gaze that tells me that they’re just as invested as I am.

  They know nothing about me, other than I’ve been confirmed healthy and fit by the medical board, and the fake backstory I gave when I got here. I know I broke a dozen laws by lying, but even though they swore protection no matter who I was, or who I was running from, I knew anonymity was my only option.

  Christina Thorne is dead and Hypatia Curie is born in the wild Alaskan wilderness. I chose the name in honor of two women of science I always admired and respected. The mathematician, Hypatia of Alexandria, and the renowned physicist Marie Curie.

  “May I have your attention.” An older man, wearing a decorated military uniform announces that the lottery is about to begin, and a murmur runs throughout the room.

  I let out a shaky breath.

  There’s no turning back now.

  I’m really doing this.

  It’s insane. An act of desperation. But it’s my only choice.

  The man with the microphone calls my name first, and I’m instructed to move forward on the stage, but I feel my feet cemented in place. Terror of what comes next glues me to the ground.

  Six husbands. I am not prepared for this. In my twenty-one years, I’ve never even kissed a man.

  “It’s okay,” Kate whispers, giving my hand one last squeeze before letting it go. “You’re safe here.”

  “It’s all right,” Lilah whispers, her sugary sweet voice so foreign to my ears. Where I am jaded, she is smooth. “This is better than it could have been. This is a choice, remember? Your choice.”

  How this fragile woman is now the strong one is beyond me. On the boat ride here, she was a jumble of emotions. But now, on stage, she has composed herself. Now it’s me who’s a mess.

  Kate, wearing rose-colored glasses since the moment we met, leans in to whisper, “This isn’t an auction, it’s a lottery. It’s our destiny, Tia.”

  I smooth down my white bridal gown as the man motions me with an impatient gesture to step forward. When I do, I hear a murmur of appreciation from the men. I lower my chin, my breasts pushed up high in this satin dress. The material cinches tight on my waist. In this gown, there is no disguising the woman my men will receive.

  Here I am, on display, for all to see. This is everything I wanted to avoid. I never wanted to be a prize. I don’t want to be won. I want a man to earn my affection. I want to be treasured and adored. I want to be more than a wife who was bought.

  I want to be chosen.

  More afraid than I’ve ever been in my life, I blink back tears and straighten my shoulders.

  My choice.

  Exhaling slowly, I glance back at Kate and Lilah who look at me with encouraging smiles. I’m not alone.

  In this new world, women stick together. We have to. It was only by the kindness of strangers, seeing my plight, sheltering and hiding me, that I managed to get here at all. A small pink ribbon hanging in the front window of a home, a symbol that it was a safe house.

  But in Alaska every house is safe. At least, that’s the line we bought coming here.

  My hands tremble as the announcer runs through the list of my abilities and talents, and I nearly choke when he mentions my culinary skills. Despite all my tutors’ frustrated efforts to make me a proper housewife, my only real passion was science. Is science. I know if I was just given the chance, I could make a real difference in finding a way to reverse the population crisis. But that wasn’t my fate.

  And I don’t think fate is going to intervene on my behalf now.

  I lift my eyes, wishing my distrust in everyone and everything could be replaced with some of the warmth Lilah and Kate possess. How I wish my hard edges were soft lines. But I need to keep my guard up until I meet my husbands.

  This night has just begun. I have no idea what they will expect of me once we leave the safety of this meeting hall. But I have an idea. I shiver in both fear and anticipation.

  A man, announced as The Director comes onto the stage. A silver-haired man in his early sixties, he carries a bronze, decorated antique looking device that’s a contrast to the unornamented, concrete-walled room, with its high-tech security system.

  His gaze lingers and narrows for a moment on me before moving on.

  After he sets the bronze device, a wire ball filled with slips of paper, on a pedestal at one side of the stage, a ceremonial speech is read, then the Director gives the ball a sharp turn with the handle on its side, and I can hear a scattering of paper rustling, ready to determine my fate.

  As the first ticket is drawn, the room goes completely silent.

  There’s a sharp crack in the microphone as the Director leans forward and says, “Ticket two-zero-five. Giles Knight. You are the first winner of tonight’s lottery and husband one of Hypatia Curie.”

  There’s a shift in the crowd. A rustle of clothing. Then a man steps forward. Dark auburn hair and a matching beard frames a handsome face. But it’s his size that has me swallowing hard as he steps onto the stage. He’s one of the men I caught watching me earlier.

  A wall of muscle, the man tow
ers over me, and if it weren’t for the kindness I see in his confident green eyes, I might be frightened.

  He holds himself in military fashion, back straight, expression unreadable, he gives a sharp nod, before taking his place to the side of me.

  I can’t help but sneak a sideways glance at the man, and when I do, I see his lips twitch up just slightly.

  Behind me, I hear Kate and Lilah sigh as they take in Giles. I twist my neck, looking back at them with wide eyes, my heart suddenly lighter than it has been in weeks. Maybe this isn’t the worst-case scenario.

  The next few names are called quickly, and each man comes on stage, taking his place in a line next to Giles. And I try my best to remember their names as they’re called out.

  Huxley is the second. He’s a good five inches shorter than Giles, but his face is pleasing, and his eyes, a clear blue rimmed with dark lashes, give me the impression that he is intelligent.

  Next is Banks, with his olive skin, jet black hair, and dark piercing eyes that seem almost skeptical of me as he takes his place with the other men. There’s a slight arrogance to him that makes me a bit apprehensive.

  And I wonder if I wasn’t his first choice. Maybe he put tickets in for the other women as well. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and glance away.

  The fourth man to be called is Emerson. Sporting a full sleeve tattoo on his left arm, his eyes are a striking turquoise. Tall, with long, light brown hair pulled back in a bun, his size is comparable to Giles. And I have no doubt that whatever his job is, it requires strenuous labor.

  I glance out across the sea of faces, catching the blue eyes of the man I’d noticed earlier. When the fifth name is called, his nostrils flare slightly, and I see his jaw twitch. There’s a slight murmur of disapproval from the men, as the man called makes his way on stage.

  Shaggy, dark blond hair, and friendly brown eyes, the man looks almost confused that his name has been called, which is odd since each man here had to pay a serious amount of money to be included in the lottery.

  But there’s no denying his frown as he glances over at me.

  Shit. This is not doing much for my confidence.

  The Director seems more familiar with him than the other men, and a satisfied grin stretches across his face as he watches Salinger take his place next to Emerson.

  I take in the five men next to me. All different in their own way. But each one appealing, even handsome. And I let out a small nervous laugh.

  This is actually happening. These men will all call me wife before the night is through.

  The last ticket is called, and a round of disappointed grumbling fills the room.

  But no one moves towards the stage.

  “Fallon Hudson,” the Director repeats.

  My gaze drifts back to the man who’d caught my attention earlier. He holds my gaze for a long, intense second, and I see a flicker of something in his eyes, something primal, a hunger, and I can’t help the warmth that spreads through my body.

  Then he gives a small, almost unperceivable half-smile, and pushes himself off the wall. Cool and collected, he makes his way towards me.

  There’s something familiar about him. Something I can’t place. Like a distant memory or a dream.

  Fallon, his name echoes in my mind.

  Read More of The Wife Lottery HERE!

  C.M. Seabrook

  Amazon bestselling author C.M. Seabrook writes hot, steamy romances with possessive bad boys, and the passionate, fiery women who love them. Swoonworthy romances from the heart!

  For something a little different, read Chantel Seabrook's Shifter, Reverse Harem, and Fantasy books here https://amzn.to/2MTiItI

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  Also by C.M. Seabrook

  Men with Wood Series

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  Frankie Love

  Frankie Love writes sexy stories about bad boys and mountain men. As a thirty-something mom who is ridiculously in love with her own bearded hottie, she believes in love-at-first-sight and happily-ever-afters. She also believes in the power of a quickie.

  Find Frankie here:

  www.frankielove.net

  frankieloveromance@gmail.com

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