Anslee glanced at her in the mirror as she leant forward to check her cleavage, her nose wrinkling in distaste.
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm part of the bachelorette auction."
As were all the other women in the room but Ren wasn't one to be pedantic.
"You?" Anslee snorted. "You're one of the bachelorettes?"
Ren could see a couple of the women giving her sympathetic looks. The other women in the room were nice and Ren had done a circuit of the room getting to know everyone; it was in her nature to be nice to people. But Anslee was known to be a catty person. The nineteen-year-old didn't believe in being nice to get friends or for the sake of it; she was only nice when she needed something.
Ren braced herself. She had dealt with bullies like Anslee all her life; she wasn't going to cower before her now.
"Alasia decided I could bring in some money." Ren adjusted the V-neck so it covered more of her cleavage, which felt too revealing. "It is for charity, after all."
"Alasia needs her eyes tested." Anslee gave her a scathing look and snorted pityingly. "You're not pretty enough. You wouldn't fetch even triple figures in."
There was a gasp from someone. Ren rolled her eyes and placed a hand on a cocked hip.
"And why would that be, Miss Thompson?" She asked. "Because I'm not slim like you? Beautiful doesn't mean what you look like on the outside. I'm not the correct weight for my height but that's not going to stop me from being beautiful."
"You believe fat is beautiful?"
Anslee was looking at her like she was crazy. Ren raised an eyebrow.
"Do you believe thin is beautiful when you're a bitch on the inside? It isn't a good look."
Anslee was still staring at her but Ren didn't cower. She had faced many girls like Anslee at school. They didn't scare her then and Anslee didn't scare her now.
Finally, to Ren's surprise, Anslee smiled and barked out a laugh. She went to a nearby chair and sat, crossing her long legs as she reached into her purse.
"You've got some spunk on you." She retrieved a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. "I'll give you that."
"Plus I've got a bucket list and this is on it." Ren added. "Raising money for charity."
"A bucket list? Are you dying or something?"
Ren's heart clenched. It wasn't that obvious, was it? She had managed to keep the tremors to a minimum with her medication. No one could have seen it.
"I just want to try things once." She said quickly.
"Is having sex with a hot guy on your list as well?"
Ren blushed.
"Not really."
"Liar." Anslee grinned as she lit up a cigarette. "That would be my bucket list. A long list of who I would want to fuck."
Ren didn't know whether to laugh or cringe.
"Isn't that a little...?"
"Sluttish?" Anslee shrugged. "I know it does. But if I'm dying, I want to go out with a smile on my face, not thinking about what ifs." She blew a stream of smoke at Ren, who wafted it away as it came in her direction. "And I know who would be on the top of that list. Brock Willier."
"Billionaire Brock Willier?"
Ren had heard of Brock but had never seen him. There weren't even any pictures of him. If it wasn't for word of mouth, the man might not even exist. Every woman whispered about him but a very rare few got to see him. Ren knew she would never get that honour and, frankly, didn't really care. But it was nice to think what he looked like.
"The one and only. Barely any woman can get near him and those that succeed do say he is smoking hot in bed." Anslee sat back and drew on her cigarette again. "Perfecto for a one-off fuck."
"How so?"
"No emotions. Guy's as ice-cold as they come. He'll fuck you so you remember it for the rest of your life but you'd better not outstay your welcome or expect a second go." Anslee flicked some ash onto the floor. "One-off type of guy."
Ren shuddered.
"He doesn't sound very nice."
"Everyone says that about him. The most eligible bachelor this side of the United States and he doesn't give a damn."
Ren grunted.
"Doesn't sound like a title he's interested in." She surmised.
"He'll come round one day." Anslee smirked and winked. "And I hope I'm there to be a part of it."
Ren hoped that Brock Willier had some sense not to go near Anslee Thompson. The socialite was willing to put her claws into any man with a pulse and money. She would probably eat him up for dinner.
"Ren."
An attractive black woman in her thirties appeared in the doorway to the dressing room, a clipboard in her hands. Dressed in a grey pinstripe suit and her hair up in a bun, she looked every bit the professional. She sent a warm smile Ren's way.
"You're up next, honey."
Ren squared her shoulders and smoothed down her dress. This was it. One way of looking stupid in front of dozens of good-looking men who were willing to pay cash to have dinner with an eligible woman. She didn't expect to get much but she was willing to do what she could to raise money for charity.
She followed Alasia Fraser out the room.
"How do I look?"
"You look amazing." Alasia gave her a warm smile. "You'll dazzle them." She glanced back towards the dressing room. "I'm amazed you were talking to Anslee and she wasn't sniping your head off. She's not exactly the friendly type."
"I noticed." Ren shrugged. "I can hold my own."
Alasia chuckled. They turned a corner and Ren felt her legs give way. She shrieked and tried to catch herself, hitting the wall. Alasia turned and caught her before she fell to the floor.
"Whoa there, Ren." She steadied Ren back on her feet. "Are you okay?"
Ren wasn't okay. She knew that she wasn't. But she wasn't going to tell Alasia that. This wasn't exactly something to share. Not now. She managed a smile and a shrug.
"I'm fine. It's just these heels."
Alasia looked like she didn't believe her for a moment. But she stepped back and nodded towards a door Ren knew would bring her round the back of the stage.
"Go out there and sparkle, Ren?"
Provided she didn't fall flat on her face again.
#
"Another drink, sir?"
Brock looked up. The waitress who had been manning his table for most of the evening was standing by his chair again. He was sure her skirt had hitched up a few more inches and there was another button undone on her blouse.
He didn't know if he should feel embarrassed for her or laugh at her pathetic attempts at seduction. The poor girl wasn't going to get anywhere.
"No, thanks." He fingered his scotch glass, which he had barely touched. "I'm fine with what I've got."
"Are you sure?"
The waitress bit her lip and leant forward, her cleavage very close to Brock's face. He turned his head away, not wanting to see down the woman's shirt.
"I'm sure, thank you." He said icily.
Brock kept his face turned away as he felt the waitress' demeanour change. She harrumphed, straightened up and stalked away, her heels thudding on the carpet as she stomped off. Brock shook his head and rubbed at his eyes.
Such women didn't seem to take a hint very well and then acted as if the man was the one with the problem when it didn't go their way. While the waitress had been young and pretty - very pretty - Brock couldn't find himself to get interested enough to take her up on her offer. It felt almost boring.
Life felt boring. It had been nearly eight months since he had last had a woman in his bed and even then, he had had to work hard to become interested. It wasn't the woman’s fault; his serpent wanted its mate and it wasn't settling for second-best. It just wanted the one person it was meant to be with.
Brock knew that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. Not with his demeanour. He kept himself closed off from everyone so barely anyone could get past his defences. He had his reasons but he wasn't going to explain himself. Even his personal assistant Tracey - someone he
considered his closest friend - didn't know the whole truth.
With all that going on, finding his mate was going to be next to impossible.
The woman up on the stage, a blonde beauty with a debutante-type smile and wearing a white dress that could have come straight out of a fairy tale, finally left with a spattering off applause. The man who had won her for a date, a distinguished-looking man in his forties, stood and made his way to the side of the stage, where Alasia Fraser was waiting to collect the check.
Brock wondered why he did this. He liked Alasia - she was a sound woman - but he didn't know why he did this for her. Giving money to charity he had no problem with doing, but Brock didn't like these events where you bid to date a bachelorette who paraded themselves on a stage and the bid amount would be the donation. He could easily send a check in the post but Alasia always managed to get him to come.
For the past four years, he had grudgingly agreed. At the end of the night, he and Alasia would share a takeout at her apartment and then he would take his leave. No sex; Alasia was firmly on the other side of the fence. But she was good fun and that was the only thing Brock looked forward to.
He sighed when the announcer's deep voice vibrated across the room, introducing the next woman.
"Here we go, gentlemen. Bachelorette number seven. Ren Riceluk."
Brock glanced up at the stage, expecting another debutante-looking beauty queen, stick thin and with a pageant-style smile pasted on her face. And he froze. The woman on stage was curvy. Deliciously curvy. The red dress she wore clung to her body and showed off her assets in a way that had Brock's mouth watering.
Her light brown hair was done up in a simple chignon, swept away from a clear-skinned face that had very little makeup. Her dark eyes glinted in the light as they darted around the room, standing on the stage with one hand on her hip, a confident smile on her face as she sauntered across the stage and twirled before moving back to her original spot.
She was beautiful. Brock couldn't take his eyes off her, barely registering her credentials.
"Ren is an elementary school teacher. Rather her than me." The announcer chuckled. "Aged twenty-three and, as you can see, brown hair and brown eyes. Nice curves as well, if I say so myself. Can't beat those curves."
Brock wasn't going to argue with that.
"Ren's the quiet type, preferring to be with a good book than a night on the town. She's also a fitness bunny. The batteries never stop with this woman. She cycles to and from work and she also runs every day. Since the age of seventeen, she has competed the Boston marathon every year. Don't be deceived by those curves; this girl can easily keep up with you and overtake you. She likes to keep people on her toes."
Brock could imagine that. He stared at Ren as she managed to keep her head up. And noticed the slight tremble in her hand, the fear in her eyes. She was nervous. Brock wondered why she was doing this if she was nervous.
But that question died away when his serpent hissed and writhed. Brock didn't need to guess what it meant. It smelt its mate clearly. Brock closed his eyes and inhaled. There it was. The smell of his mate.
And it was coming from Ren's direction.
Brock opened his eyes, knowing that his eyes had changed. He blinked to clear them and made a decision.
He raised his hand to make the first bid.
Their First Date
He had bid. Ren stared at the man who had given the highest bid and won her. She had only seen one picture but she knew exactly who he was. Brock Willier.
Billionaire recluse Brock Willier had successfully won her for a date. For thirty thousand dollars.
Ren's head was spinning. This couldn't be real. She wasn't expecting to raise that much but it had happened. To start with, it had been between two middle-aged men, neither of them particularly attractive, bidding up to over ten thousand dollars. Ren had been bracing herself to accept a date with either of these men - neither looked very inviting - when Brock had made his bid of thirty thousand. When her two bidders saw who was competing for her, they had backed off and Brock had easily won.
Now Ren was about to go on a date with the most eligible bachelor in Boston. And she was terrified.
She hurried off the stage, wafting at her face with her hands to cool the flush.
"Oh, my God. Oh, my God."
"What's wrong?"
Alasia hurried to her side as Ren staggered through the door and into the corridor. She leant against the wall, her head pounding with what she had seen. This couldn't be real, could it?
"I can't believe it." She gasped.
"Neither can I." Alasia looked impressed. "You got Brock Willier? That's incredible. I've been forcing him to come to this event for four years and we've never been able to get him to bid on anyone. We've only been given a check at the end of the night."
Ren stared at her. Brock had never bid on anyone before? She didn't know whether to be flattered or worried. Agreeing to do this for charity because it was on her bucket list was one thing but going out with a gorgeous man like Brock Willier was something else entirely. She wasn't sure if she could handle being in the same room as him.
Alasia seemed to sense her nerves and approached her, giving her a one-armed hug.
"Take it easy, Ren. I know Brock. He's not actually that bad. He's a pretty decent guy. When you're not trying to flirt with him, that is." She squeezed Ren's shoulders. "Just be yourself. That always makes people relax."
Ren knew she was right. There was no need to get into a flap about it just because she had actually gotten a date with a man who could make any woman weak at the knees. And Ren's knees had felt weak. It was the strongest reaction Ren had ever had towards men.
She straightened up and rolled her shoulders.
"I'll try. But it won't be easy."
"Of course it will." Alasia nudged her towards the dressing room. "Go and get changed. And be quick. I'll make sure he waits."
Ren wobbled on her way back, her focus on the imminent date rather than on controlling her shakes. Then she got herself back under control and walked as sedately as she could into the dressing room, retrieving her things and ducking into the toilet room before anyone could talk to her.
She knew they would be curious but Ren didn't want to talk to anyone. Especially Anslee. The bitch queen would be expecting Brock to be there to bid on her and would be furious that he wasn't.
The thought of stealing Anslee's thunder did make Ren giggle for a moment. It would serve the girl right. But Ren wasn't the sort of person to be unkind and dismissed the thoughts. She needed to focus on not making a complete fool of herself and keeping her body under control. If Brock even scented the slightest thing wrong with her he was hightail it out of there.
Ren didn't want a knock to her self-confidence when she needed it the most.
Dressing in her jeans and her favourite dark blue sweater, she let her hair down and gave it a quick brush. Then she sat on the lowered toilet seat and took out her diary from her bag. Fishing out her pen, she opened up to her bucket list and scanned down until she saw 'help give money to charity'. She crossed it off firmly before closing her diary with a snap and putting both diary and pen back into her bag.
Standing, Ren looked at her reflection in the mirror. She didn't look too bad. She scrubbed up nicely. It would do. It wasn't as if she had prepared for a date with an eligible bachelor.
Ren left the bathroom, ducking through the room before anyone noticed her, and entered the corridor. Alasia was by the stage door, taking to Brock. In her heels added to her five-nine height, she was easily on Brock's eye-level.
Ren stopped a moment and stared at her date. God, he was gorgeous. Over six feet over slim, firm muscle, jet-black hair that curled at the collar and a rugged complexion that belied his twenty-nine years. He wore all black: black shirt open at the collar, no tie, black jacket and black slacks. Black shoes finished off the ensemble.
He looked dark and dangerous. Ren was reminded of the vampires she read about
in her romance novels. If they needed a template for the vampire hero, Brock Willier would be it.
Then Brock seemed to sense that she was there. He turned his head and his dark eyes speared her to the spot. Ren's body heated and she felt her breasts getting heavy. Swallowing, she squared her shoulders and approached him, clutching her bag to her chest.
"Mr Willier."
"Miss Riceluk."
Wow. Even his deep voice did something to Ren's insides. She trembled. Alasia grinned and sent Ren a wink.
"I'll leave you to it." She patted Brock's arm. "Thanks for the check, Brock."
"My pleasure, Alasia." Brock kissed her cheek. "Have fun."
Alasia patted his cheek and went back through the stage door. Ren raised an eyebrow.
"You know Alasia?"
"We're old friends." Brock chuckled at Ren's surprised expression. "She's not a conquest. I haven't got my fangs into her."
"I should know that. She prefers people without cocks."
Brock laughed. It was a deep rumbling laugh that had Ren wanting to swoon. Dear God, whoever said Brock Willier was an ice-cold man obviously hadn't seen this side of him. He was smoking-hot in Ren's opinion.
Brock took Ren's arm and they began to walk towards the side door. At five-three, Ren felt tiny compared to Brock and had to almost jog to keep up with his easy stride.
"I thought we'd go to that seafood-Italian restaurant on Hanover Street." Brock said. He glanced at her. "Do you like seafood or pasta?"
"I like pasta fine." Ren loved a plate of pasta. Nevertheless she hesitated. "But..."
Brock stopped and turned, a frown appearing between his eyes.
"But what?"
Ren knew she should just keep quiet and let them have the date where Brock wanted to go but she didn't want to have a miserable time. And she didn't want Brock to be bored. If they were going to have this date then they would do it on her terms. The place Brock had mentioned was nice but very pricey. Ren didn't want pricey. She wanted real.
"I don't want to go anywhere fancy." She admitted. "That's not my style. I'd be happy with a cup of coffee and a burger."
Alien Romance: The Space Dragon's Owned: Scifi Alien Abduction Romance (Alien Romance, Alien Invasion Romance, BBW) Page 7
