Two if by Sea

by Marie Carnay

  Marie Carnay

  Two billionaires, one curvy woman, and a charity date auction. There’s no upper limit when you’re bidding on love.

  Winston and I run one of the top hedge funds in the world. I can have anything money can buy. And tonight, it’s a date with the sexy brunette showing off her curves on stage. Miranda’s everything I want in a woman—sexy, confident, natural. The only problem? Winston wants her too. Thank god I’ve learned how to share.

  James and Winston. Billionaires, winning bidders, sex gods. Two men I never expected to meet, let alone fall for. But when they sweep me off my feet, I can’t help it. I’m smitten. Can I give two men my heart? Or will I end up ripped in two and all alone?

  Flip the page to read Part One now!

  Chapter 1

  “Stop tugging! If you pull it down any more, no one will be looking at my face!” She swatted at her best friend’s hands and gave her a pouty frown.

  “Oh, come on, Miranda. They won’t be looking up there anyway.” Dawn yanked and fluffed until Miranda’s breasts spilled over the top of the gown.

  From her vantage point, she had more cleavage than the Grand Canyon. Her mother would be mortified. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

  “Don’t be silly. It’s for a good cause and who knows, maybe you’ll meet Mr. Right.”

  “Oh, yeah. The man of my dreams is totally going to swoop in and buy me as his date.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “This isn’t the movies, Dawn.”

  “No, but you’re a total knockout in that dress.”

  “You’re just trying to butter me up.”

  “No, I’m serious. Take a look.” Dawn stepped back and let Miranda see her reflection.

  Wow. Gone was the chubby, mousy engineer and hello was a bombshell. The black velvet hugged and smoothed her curves, highlighting her hourglass shape. And the plunging neckline made her cleavage sexy, not frumpy.

  “Okay…maybe I look a little different.”

  Dawn giggled. “Everyone is going to love you. Just wait until the bidding starts. I’ll bet more than one guy will want to take you home.”

  “Hey! I’m not going home with anyone. You said it was just a date!”

  Her best friend held up her hands. “It is. One date and he pays the winning bid in cash. But who knows? If you two hit it off…”

  “You know my luck with men, Dawn. We’ll go out on one date, and he’ll never call again. That’s how it always goes.”

  “That’s because you’ve never dated the right guy. All those geeks are boring. From what you’ve said, they don’t even know how to use their tongues.”

  Miranda blushed and looked away, but she didn’t argue. Her last three dates had been fellow engineers—two in packaging like her and one in systems. Not a single one had lit the tiniest of sparks. “You have a point.”

  “What was that last guy’s name? Milton? You said he smelled like cheese.”

  “Moldy cheese.” Miranda shuddered. “And he kissed like a limp fish.”

  “Ewww.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “You just need to relax. Smile when the announcer calls your name. Flirt. If someone bids on you, make eye contact. Show them you’re interesting. Sexy.”

  “But I’m neither.”

  “Pfft. You are too.”

  Miranda took a deep breath and blew it out her mouth. Dawn had a lot more confidence than she did. If the animal shelter weren’t dependent on the charity auction, she’d bail. Claim a migraine and rush back home.

  Too bad she couldn’t let Dawn down. Not after she’d cobbled together her savings, applied for countless grants and finally got her dream shelter open. More and more strays arrived by the day and Dawn was over capacity. Without an extra infusion of cash to expand, she’d have to turn homeless animals away. And that broke her best friend’s heart.

  She bit her lip and looked in the mirror. “What if no one bids on me?”

  “Not possible. Your girls practically sell themselves. Hell, if I didn’t know you, I’d bid on you just to see if they’re real.”

  She swatted Dawn on the arm. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s obvious they’re real, they balance out my ass.” Miranda gave her backside a shake and Dawn giggled.

  “Just be yourself, okay? You’re cute and funny and men should be falling all over themselves for a chance with you.”

  Miranda blushed and gave Dawn a quick hug. “Thanks. But this is a one-time deal, right? You’re not going to start holding these things every month or something, are you?”

  Dawn laughed. “I don’t know. If this one’s a success, maybe I will.”

  Miranda opened her mouth to protest, but Dawn waved her off.

  “Don’t worry. You’re meeting the man of your dreams tonight, remember? You won’t be single anymore!”

  “Of course. How could I forget?”

  Dawn glanced at her watch and squealed. “It’s showtime! We need to go!” She nudged Miranda toward the door and pulled it open. “Knock ’em dead for me, okay?”

  “Would you settle for knocking them over?”

  “Ha, ha. I’ll be out in the crowd later if you need me.”

  Miranda nodded and took a deep breath. No backing out now. She walked out of the dressing room and down the hall, trying to remember all the positives Dawn mentioned. Her friend might be overselling a bit, but she did look good. Damn good.

  Maybe Dawn was right. She’d spent months dragging invites out of the most eligible bachelors and bachelorettes in New York. A far cry from Miranda’s usual slim pickings. Even if she brought a low donation, she’d have a chance to go out with someone new. Without that nasty cheese smell. She pushed the door open and stepped up onto the stage, glancing at the other dates up for auction.

  Oh, god. Slim and trim and model gorgeous. Every single one of them. Showcasing pencil waists and perky breasts and legs like thoroughbreds. Why did I agree to this?

  Miranda looked down at her too-big boobs and thick hips and her heart sank. No man would bid on her when they could have perfection. She forced a swallow and gave the other women a tight smile as she walked by. Finding her place on the stage, she turned toward the curtains and took a deep breath.

  One night. She could survive the embarrassment for one night.

  * * *

  “I can’t believe you dragged me here.”

  “Lighten up, James. It’ll be fun.”

  With a glance up at the curtained stage, James stifled a sigh. Charity events were never fun. He’d much rather be skiing or hiking or stuck in a late night meeting. Anything but milling around in a tux, surrounded by people who flaunted their Park Avenue addresses and man-made smiles.

  “And when are the good times supposed to start, exactly?”

  “When the auction starts.” Winston took a sip of his bourbon and twirled his bidding paddle around in his hand. The man always loved a competition. Too bad this one didn’t come with a prize worth winning.

  James gulped a mouthful of martini. “So I’m supposed to get excited about a bunch of plastic Barbies, is that it?”

  “They can’t all be socialites. Ms. Mackenzie isn’t an heiress.”

  “Is that the owner?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Then what is she and why are we here? You don’t slum with the regular folks very often.”

  Winston rolled his eyes. “I do too. I get coffee downstairs at least once a week. There are regular people there.”

  “We own the store. I don’t think that counts.”

  “Details.” Winston took another drink and continued. “If you must know, we’re here because Margaret pestered me until I said yes.”

  James stared at his business partner. “You let your secretary plan our social calendar?”

  Winston shrugged. “She volunteers at the animal shelter on the weekends. Said it needed some help. Begged us to come.”

  “That’s so unlike you.”

  “We were free. And besides, you n
eed a date. It’s been what, a month since Dominique?”

  James shook his head. “So that’s what this is about? You’re trying to get me laid?”

  “You have been testy lately. If you ask me, you should have kept her around until you found someone new.”

  “Breaking up with Dominique was a blessing.”

  “Oh, she wasn’t so bad. She brought us her father as a client.”

  “That’s the only reason I didn’t dump her sooner. You know that. I swear she’s spent her entire inheritance on Botox and silicone. I don’t even think her ass is real.” James shuddered and closed his eyes.

  He missed being ordinary. Before he’d gone to business school and met Winston, he’d been an average guy. Good looking, no debt, smart. He could go to a bar and pick up a sexy woman who still ate bacon and had hips he could squeeze. Hair he could run his fingers through. Tits he could worship.

  But ever since they struck it big—becoming hedge fund billionaires before hitting forty—they’d attracted a different type of woman. Stick skinny, artificial, hollow. Not the kind he wanted pinned beneath him all night long. Or sharing his life.

  He glanced at his watch and frowned. “Shouldn’t it have started by now?”

  “Yeah, they must—”

  “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!” The mic cracked and a petite blonde walked on stage. “I’m Dawn Mackenzie, the founder of Manhattan Paws, and I’d like to welcome you to our charity date auction tonight!”

  A muted round of applause swept through the room and James tuned the woman out. Charity events were always the same—a bunch of wealthy people throwing their money around like bread crumbs for ducks.

  If it had been a silent auction, he could have plunked down some ridiculous sum and left. Arranged to have the autographed guitar or front row tickets delivered. But he couldn’t escape this time. Even if the women were hideous, Winston wouldn’t be leaving without one. The man couldn’t stand to lose.

  James glanced up as another round of applause ended. Thank god. Let’s get this over with.

  The owner stepped aside and waved at the curtains. “Thank you for coming and happy bidding! May the highest offers win!”

  As she stepped off the stage, the curtains behind her parted, revealing a line of women in dresses and men in tuxes. James glanced at each—the coiffed bleached blondes, the clean-shaven men—passing them over without pause. They were all the same socialites he’d seen countless times before. He was about to turn away and head for the bar when he saw her.

  Hello sexy. Dark brown hair cascaded around her shoulders in waves and the velvet of her dress hugged and squeezed all the right places. She smiled, but it wasn’t the beauty pageant preening of the other women. It was genuine. Timid. Natural.

  James inhaled through his nose and ran his tongue over his lip. She was everything he always wanted in a woman and could never find. Curvy, sexy, unaffected. Damn. He’d forgotten real women existed. Running WaterStone Investments had cut him off from the world. Popped him into an inadequate, gilded bubble.

  He cleared his throat and stood a bit taller. A date with her would be worth a small fortune. Thank god he could pay. He elbowed Winston and nodded at the stage. “The hot brunette is mine.”

  “The one in the red?”

  James glanced over and grimaced. “No. Gross. She looks like she hasn’t had a sandwich since 2002. I meant the goddess over here. Black velvet, two o’clock.”

  “No way. I saw her first.”

  James frowned and glanced at his friend. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Of course I am. Look at her. She’s a fucking knockout. Mmm. I could bury myself in her tits all night.”

  “This is a date auction, not a prostitution ring.”

  Winston held up his hands. “I know. I’ll settle for a conversation if that’s all she wants. But I’m going to win a date with her. Whether you want her or not.”

  Piss. Based on the people he’d chatted with earlier in the night, Winston was the only man who could put up a fight. And knowing his partner, no wasn’t a suitable answer. They’d be able to fund a million shelters before either ran out of cash.

  “Winston, come on man. You dragged me here, I get first pick.”

  “Hey, you want her, you bid.”

  “I know how much you make. We can’t outbid each other.”

  “You don’t know how much I’m willing to pay. Maybe you want her more than I do.” Winston shrugged and took another sip of bourbon, smirking behind his glass.

  “You’re an ass, you know that?”

  “And here I thought I was a billionaire.”

  “They aren’t mutually exclusive.”

  “Touché.” Winston plastered on a smile and held out his hand. “Good luck, James. May the best man win.”

  James rolled his eyes and shook hands as the auction gong sounded.

  * * *

  “And now, we come to the lovely Miranda Holmes. Engineer by day, Ms. Holmes loves the great outdoors, a good book, and all the animals at Manhattan Paws. Let’s open the bidding at five hundred dollars!”

  Miranda gulped and propped up her lips in a smile. The auction had already been in full swing for an hour, with gorgeous model-types going for thousands of dollars. But her? She’d be lucky if she got a single bid. Why did he start so high? No one wants a plump engineer for five hundred dollars.

  “And the opening bid goes to number fifty-two.”

  Wait, what? Miranda scanned the crowd, but the bidding paddle was nowhere to be seen. Huh. Okay. She smiled again and tried to look friendly. Inviting.

  “Can I have six hundred? Yes, six hundred to number fifty-three.”

  “And seven hundred? Yes, to fifty-two. Eight hundred. Yes. Nine? Okay. How about a thousand, gentlemen?”

  Miranda couldn’t believe it. A bidding war. Over her. It might only be a thousand dollars, but she never expected it—

  “Ten thousand, please.”

  A hush fell over the crowd and heads spun toward the speaker. He held up his paddle. Number fifty-two. Oh my god. Short brown hair, debonair tux, smile that screamed I taste as good as I look. Damn. A flush spread up Miranda’s chest and she bit her lip. Ten thousand dollars. It was unbelievable.

  “Ten thousand to number fifty-two. Anyone else? Ten thousand going once, twice—”

  “Twenty thousand.”

  Miranda choked and coughed. The man standing next to Mr. Fifty-two held up a paddle.

  “And twenty thousand for number fifty-three.” If it could be possible, Mr. Fifty-three was even hotter than his opponent. A short beard covered his jaw and he carried himself with a poise that only confidence could buy. Miranda’s knees went weak and she wished she had a railing to hold.

  As the announcer paused, she could hear the murmurs of the crowd. Her cheeks blazed scarlet and she tried to act calm and in control, but she was hanging on by a thread. Things like this didn’t happen to her. Was it all a scam? Were they kidding? Bidding in pesos?

  “Okay…” The announcer cleared his throat and continued. “Twenty thousand going once. Twice. Would you care to counter, sir?”

  The announcer looked at Mr. Fifty-two and so did every person in the crowd. Miranda held her breath.

  After a beat, the man responded. “Yes. Fifty thousand dollars, please.”

  Miranda stepped back in shock and Dawn scrambled onto the stage before grabbing the mic from the flabbergasted announcer. “Thank you, sir. So that’s fifty-thousand for number fifty-two. Would the gentleman with number fifty-three care to counter?”

  Miranda watched as the two men turned to each other. From across the room, she couldn’t hear a word, but she could tell it was intense. They stared each other down, all vigor and sex, and she squirmed where she stood. She almost hoped it came to blows. At last, the two men turned and Mr. Fifty-three spoke up.

  “It seems we’re at a bit of a stalemate. I’d like to propose an…unusual compromise. We’ll donate two hundred and fifty thousand d
ollars to the shelter.” The crowd gasped in sync and he held up his hand for silence. “On one condition.”

  “Name it.”

  “Ms. Holmes goes out on a date—with both of us.”

  What? Miranda shook her head. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for her best friend’s shelter. And all she had to do was go out on a date with two men. Holy shit.

  Dawn didn’t even look her way. “Sold. To numbers fifty-two and fifty-three. Thank you, gentlemen. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

  As the auction gong sounded, Miranda struggled to breathe. She could never live up to a quarter million dollar hype. She was just a lowly engineer who had a two bedroom apartment and a cat. Not an heiress, a debutante, anything. Just plain old Miranda Holmes.

  She glanced up and Mr. Fifty-two winked. Oh, god. This couldn’t get any worse.

  “Gentlemen, come on up and claim your date.” Miranda swung her head and gaped at Dawn. Claim their date? Nononono. She was supposed to have time to prepare. Breathe. Do a shot.

  Dawn glanced over and Miranda pleaded with her eyes. Give me an out! A mini pep talk. Anything! But her best friend only smiled and turned back to the audience. Great. I’m on my own.

  “Ms. Holmes?” She turned to see her winners standing at the edge of the stage. Wow. Up close they were…way out of her league.

  “Yes. Miranda.”

  She stepped forward and held out her hand. Mr. Fifty-two took it and raised it to his lips. “Winston Stone. It’s a pleasure.” He pressed his lips to her knuckles and Miranda swallowed down a wave of giggles. Men with sexy brown hair that fell over their eyes and devilish smiles didn’t take her hand. Or kiss her knuckles.

  “Likewise.”

  “Here, let me help you down.” He gave her hand a gentle tug and Miranda stepped toward the stairs, attempting to navigate and be graceful at the same time. How would Cinderella do this? Right, stare straight into his eyes, step into the air, find the stair.

  Lose her balance, slide off the stage. Oh no! Instead of a graceful princess, she turned into a bumbling idiot, missing the stair completely. Before Winston could catch her, she was falling. Off the stage, toward the ground, and into a serious pair of arms.