His Secret Treasure

by MINK

  “Not the time,” I scold myself. I’m not having an internal fight right now. That will have to wait for later. I walk to the curb, then hit the red carpet. Two girls slip from the back of a limo. I take a few steps to hurry to catch up behind them. Finally, a spot for me to slip into. Then I actually do slip. My heel catches on the stupid red carpet. I try to put my hands out to brace myself for the fall, but the ground never comes.

  Two arms wrap around me and pull me close. Wow. One of those women is way stronger than she looks. I was sure a rough gust of air could have knocked them over. It occurs to me I talk a lot of shit for a girl who’s almost fallen on her face twice in the last five minutes. And for one that happens to be sneaking into an event that she can’t afford a ticket to.

  “Are you okay?”

  My eyes spring open at the sound of a man's voice. I’m stunned for a moment when I see whose voice it is. Gaines Braeburn. I don’t know if I should thank my grandma or curse her at this moment. I open my mouth but no words come out. Then stupid ones do. “You have the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen.”

  He moves, righting me on my feet. I grab hold of his jacket to get my balance back in these heels. What the hell are the chances that he’s the one that saves me from disaster?

  I reach up to touch my necklace as I get myself together.

  “You’re so tall.” I drop my head all the way back to look up at him. I’ve seen pictures of Gaines before. I knew he was handsome. I just didn't know how big he was. He doesn't look like a man who sips tea and admires lost artifacts.

  No, he’s a real deal tomb raider. Some say he’s a real life Indiana Jones if you add some additional weight and a whole lot of muscle. I’m sliding him over into that category and away from the Scrooge McDuck image I had in mind--even if I’m certain he’s got a pool of gold coins he swims around in before bed.

  He stares at me without saying anything for a long moment. Then he leans down, and for a second I think he’s going to kiss me. My hands dig more into his jacket. I should push him away. Wait, I’m supposed to be seducing him.

  I push my lips out, trying to make them look pouty. It’s what all the girls in pictures do these days. He stops a few inches from my mouth. He’s so close that I can feel the coolness of his minty breath on my lips. I lick them, wishing I could taste his as well.

  “Are you okay?” he asks again.

  “Gaines,” someone calls. “Look this way.”

  Then another shout. “Over here.”

  All the photographers are looking at us and taking pictures. I turn my face away. Having my photo taken with him will only draw attention to me that I don’t want. I’m here for one reason: to get my box.

  “Don’t like getting your picture snapped?”

  I shake my head. I really don’t care if someone takes my picture, but I’m going with the whole damsel in distress.

  He'll hopefully play right into my hand by saving me and whisking me inside. Men love that sort of thing. They’re always looking for a girl that needs saving. Once inside, I'll have him eating out of the palm of my hand. And then he’ll take me to his house, and I’ll finally have my box.

  “No more pictures, then.” He tucks me in closer to him. “I’ll get you inside away from the cameras, but then you’ll have to do something for me.”

  I give him a bright smile. I plan on doing so many things for him already. Including making him fall in love with me. Robbing him blind. Then having him lose the greatest treasure of them all. Me. At least that's what Grandma always said I was.

  I meet his gaze, puffing up my courage to take the next step. “Okay. It’s a deal.”

  What’s doing one more thing for him going to hurt? Hopefully him.

  4

  Gaines

  Unexpected, to say the least. The beauty beside me seemed to come out of nowhere, practically falling into my arms.

  Not that I’m complaining. Though completely out of character for me, I considered keeping her against me, taking her mouth in a kiss, then dragging her out of this place so we could be together in private. It sounds barbaric and foolhardy, but I can’t deny what I’m feeling.

  She shoots me a sideways glance as we climb the steps into the venue. “You really are ridiculously tall.”

  “Ridiculously?” I ask.

  “In a good way. I mean, you seem really solid. Thick, actually. Like long and sort of--” Her cheeks turn a decidedly darling shade of pink as she clamps her lips together.

  “I seem long and solid?” I tease.

  She tucks a lock of her brown hair behind her ear, then changes her mind and lets it drape freely down to her shoulder. She’s nervous. Why does that simple fact whet my appetite even more?

  “Gaines.” Selena sweeps over, her gaze on me. “I intend to win you tonight,” she simpers.

  “You say that every year.”

  “This year I mean it.” She runs her tongue along her front teeth, then looks at the woman on my arm. “And you are?” She puts a sharp point on her question.

  “Pan”—the beautiful brunette pauses, then finishes—“sy.”

  “Pansy?” Selena laughs, her platinum blond bob bouncing. “Well, nice to meet you, I guess.” She slides her gaze back to me. “You’re mine tonight.”

  “Actually”—Pansy steps forward—“he’s mine, and if you don’t mind, we were just on our way inside.”

  Everything inside me pulses, and I can’t seem to keep from taking Pansy’s arm again, her soft skin perfect under my touch. “You heard her, Selena. I’m claimed.”

  “We’ll see about that.” She turns, her white hair fanning out as she puts an extra sway in her hips and stomps away.

  “Who was that?” Pansy looks up at me, her brow slightly creased.

  “Selena’s been after me for years. Not me, though, of course. My money.”

  “Oh.” She shrugs. “I thought everyone here was already rich.”

  “Of course they are.” I lead her through the wide double doors into the ballroom. “But adding to their wealth is their favorite pastime.”

  “Money can’t buy what they want.” She reaches up and touches the bejeweled key that hangs around her pale throat.

  “It can’t?”

  “Nope.” She shakes her head as a waiter walks by with a tray of champagne.

  I take one and hand it to her, then snag another. “And what is it they want, precisely?” Am I having a conversation with a woman other than Mrs. Pettyford? I think I am. And I’m enjoying it.

  The sound in the room is a dull roar from too many conversations, so I lean closer, catching her sweet scent one more time, relishing the luminous tone of her skin and the way her hair caresses her shoulders. The peacock blue dress fits her like a second skin, and I find myself thinking about peeling it off her and tasting every inch of what lies beneath.

  “They want the same thing everyone--rich or poor--wants. To not feel alone.” She sips her drink. “That’s what all the money is for. They want to feel secure, like they could buy anything they ever wanted. But it will never be enough.”

  “And what makes you so wise, beautiful stranger?” I swallow some champagne.

  “I’ve been around.” She touches the key again. “Losing things puts a lot into perspective, I guess.”

  “Things?” I want her to keep talking, to tell me everything about her.

  “Well, people.” She drops her gaze.

  I tilt her chin back up so she meets my eyes. “Someone close to you?”

  She blinks, as if trying to stop tears from welling. “I’m not here to talk about that.” She forces a smile. “Tell me, what’s the plan for the evening?”

  The plan is to get you into my bed. “You know how these charity events go.” I suspect she doesn’t. In fact, I suspect that if I checked the guest list, I wouldn’t find a “Pansy” anywhere on it.

  “Right.” She takes a bigger drink of her champagne.

  “Where are you from--”

  “Gaines!” Linton st
rides over, his huge smile burning my retinas. “How’s it going, man? Last I heard you were doing some sort of trek in Nova Scotia. Find anything good?” His eyes flicker to Pansy, and I don’t like the way he sizes her up. “And who is this doll?”

  I wrap my arm around her and find myself more than pleased when she leans into my side. “This is Pansy, my date.”

  “Date?” His blond eyebrows jump. “You?” He whistles. “Going to be a lot of broken hearts in the room tonight.”

  “I’m not worried.” I press my fingertips into her waist, feeling how soft she is, how perfectly she’d fit against me.

  “Claws will be out.” He reaches out and faux punches my shoulder, then draws his hand away and shakes it. “You always bring the guns.” He laughs, then backs away. “Let’s get the show started.”

  “He’s even brighter in person. Too bright.” Pansy doesn’t seem impressed. Good. Linton is a larger-than-life TV personality, and the emcee of this event, but he leaves a trail of disappointed women in his wake, or so Mrs. Pettyford has said.

  More people glance our way, some of them giving me that wide-eyed sort of look that’s a precursor to an attempt at conversation. Not a chance. Not when I’ve got this mystery woman under my arm and already owing me a favor.

  With a smooth pull, I walk her to one of the darker alcoves along the side of the ballroom.

  “Where are we go--”

  “Where are you from?” I back her against the wall, almost caging her with my body. It’s like my mind has shut off and given way to whatever base instinct rules a man when he finds a woman who sets his soul on fire.

  “From?” She gives me a wry look. “Well, I guess I’m from the red carpet.”

  I run my fingers down her throat, skirting along the golden chain of her necklace.

  She takes a sharp breath but doesn’t push away.

  “Your voice has a Southern lilt to it. You’re from the South. You aren’t one of the usual buzzards who frequent these events. And you seem to know who I am, though you’re making an attempt at playing it cool.”

  Her eyes widen. “I don’t, um. That’s not a true sort of thing you just said, and what--” She lets out a little gasp again when I stroke her collarbone with the pad of my thumb.

  “I just want to know you’re real. That I’m not being played. Plenty have tried it.” I run my palm back to her throat and squeeze ever so gently. “Wanting to get to me. To get something from me. But I don’t feel like that’s you.” Not this woman with the soulful eyes and the mouth-watering curves.

  “I’m just here to help the charity.” Her voice is breathy.

  My cock is rock hard, and I have the urge to place her palm against it. Pretend it’s just the two of us, not hundreds of glitterati and constant whispers at my back.

  I smirk down at her, and she licks her lips.

  “I’m glad you’re here to support the charity. Here’s the favor you’re going to do for me.” I lean closer and press my lips to her ear, whispering my instructions as I feel her soft hair, warm skin, and racing heart.

  5

  Pandora

  I try not to fidget, but I can feel everyone’s eyes on me. The women’s especially. They’re like hungry vultures circling their prey, waiting to pounce at any moment. They’re either planning to kill me or maul Gaines. No wonder he wants me to bid on him. It doesn’t go unnoticed to me that Selena’s gaze is the sharpest of them all.

  “Don’t I get one of the little paddle things to hold up in the air?” I turn my head to look all the way up at Gaines. He’s got an arm around me keeping me tucked close to his side. I think he’s using me as a human shield against all the other hungry ladies. Why doesn't he see me as a threat? I could be getting ready to pounce on him, too. I am here to seduce him, after all.

  Gaines pulls his attention away from the man he’s talking to. “You don’t need a paddle.” His lips twitch into a smile. Those lips had been so close to me. I was sure he was going to kiss me. Then the Queen Vulture came by and interrupted us. Wait. I mean, she totally saved me from having to kiss his overly handsome face. Or maybe she didn’t, because kissing goes along with my seduction gig. Ugh. I really need to get my head in order.

  “That’s lame.” I may not need a paddle to bid, but I might need one to beat some of these women off with.

  “As I was saying.” The man Gaines is talking with cuts back in, giving me an annoyed look for interrupting them. I’m not surprised by his actions. These rich folks don’t take too well to being interrupted. If I didn’t have a plan to carry out, I’d tell this jerkface right where he can stick his snooty attitude.

  To my surprise, Gaines keeps his eyes on me. “You weren't saying anything of importance, Trent.”

  Trent’s face flushes with embarrassment. I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t enjoy the fact that Gaines put him in his place.

  “You don’t always have to be a dick, Gaines.” He bites back, trying to save face.

  “I do when you’re a dick to my date who you interrupted.”

  Trent leans toward me. “Do yourself a favor and don’t bid on him. He collects pretty things and grows bored of them quickly.” He leaves me alone with Gaines, who looks like he wants to go after the man. Instead, he stares a hole into the back of his blond head. Everyone else continues to steal peeks at the two of us.

  “I can’t tell if people love or hate you.” That’s mostly the men, though. The women definitely love him. Or maybe I should say, they lust him.

  “They always want something. When people see they can’t get it, they tend to get mean.” His hand drops to my back as he guides me to a table. Luckily this time no one tries to stop us.

  I want something from him, too. Does that make me the same as everyone else in the room? I push the guilt away. He is the thief here. I remind myself of that little fact. He didn't ask anyone for anything. He took whatever he wanted for himself.

  He pulls out a chair for me. I ease into it, happy to be off my feet. I’m not good in these heels. Gaines puts his hand over the back of my chair, his fingers sweeping across my bare back as a server places several plates of food in front of me, most of it far fancier than my usual bowl of Easy Mac. I sample this and that. It’s delicious, but I’m not sure it’s worth five thousand dollars a ticket. Gaines doesn't touch his food. He sits there drifting his finger back and forth across my back, his gaze always on me, my hands, my mouth, my eyes.

  “Are you going to eat that?” Before he answers me, I swap my plate with his. “I don’t know who thought to wrap a steak in a pastry puff but it was a brilliant idea.” The woman across from us rolls her eyes at me. She’s not eating her food either. What is wrong with these people? For five thousand a ticket we should get to take the fancy plates home with us, too. They should send us meals for months for paying that sort of money.

  Gaines gives me a giant smile. “I can get more if you like.”

  “A to-go box?” I joke.

  “If you wish.” He’s serious.

  I have no doubt he could get a to-go box of the food if he really wanted. I don’t miss the girl across the table as she gapes at us. She doesn't approve of me at all, but I’m the one who’s caught Gaines’s attention, which seems to be a feat in and of itself.

  “Shit.” I jump up from my seat when the bite I almost have to my mouth drops onto my dress. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” I reach for my napkin to try and wipe the small spot it left behind, but Gaines beats me to it. He quickly dips the napkin in water and dabs the dress lightly.

  “You all right?” He keeps dabbing.

  “I’m fine.” I take a deep breath and wish the stain away.

  “As long as you’re okay. It’s just a dress.” To him that’s all it is. To everyone else in this room that’s all it is, too. To me, it’s a year's rent in my tiny place above the laundromat. To me, it’s something that I shouldn’t have purchased because I couldn’t afford it. But that’s water under the bridge now. I can’t go back; I just need to stay th
e course.

  “It’s not just a dress.” I plop back down in the chair and stare at the spot that didn’t magically get wished away after all. Gaines got a little of it out. He tosses the napkin onto the table. His hand comes under my chin, and he tilts my face so I’m staring directly into his eyes.

  “I can fix the dress.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. When we leave here, I’ll have it taken care of.” Why does he have to be so nice and charming? I'm going to have to keep reminding myself he’s the enemy. People say he’s ruthless when it comes to getting what he wants. I need to be the same. I think right now he wants me for some reason, which is just what I had in mind. While the thought of him wanting me might be appealing, I have a mission that’s more important than any shallow attraction. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself this is. Just because he makes me feel beautiful and tingly all over doesn’t mean a thing.

  “Gaines. You’re up.” An older woman in a beautiful ivory dress glides over to us.

  He drops his hand from my face.

  “Sorry to interrupt, my dear.” She smiles at me. “But he brings in the most money.”

  He goes to stand. “I could cut you a check right now and call it a day.”

  “You’re the reason half these women are here. None of them will show up next year if they don’t think they have a chance.”

  My stomach tightens. I get what she’s saying, but it doesn't mean I have to like it. Of course, the real problem is that I shouldn't care. So what if all these hyenas want a piece of Gaines Braeburn? I only need one thing from him. And it’s not … him. Right. It’s the box. My box.

  “I bet you could bring in a good chunk of money.” She gives me a wink.

  “Don’t get any ideas.” He leans over and kisses me below the ear, sending a pleasant shiver racing through me. “I don’t care what it costs. You’re going to win me.” He places another one of those kisses that does funny things to my insides on me before he fully stands and leaves me alone at the table. Okay, not alone. There are five other people here. All of whom are staring at me.