Ivy folded her skinny arms and narrowed her eyes. “Piece a cake.”
Melanie stiffened. Who the hell was this woman to call her a piece of cake? “Excuse me?”
Cara and Ivy flanked her. Ivy leaned close and stared hard. Melanie shifted uncomfortably.
“I’d kill for her skin,” Ivy said as if Melanie wasn’t even there. “And it’ll be a shame to cover up that gorgeous hair. People pay big bucks for hair like that.”
Melanie’s hand instinctively reached up and touched the ends of her hair. What on God’s earth was she talking about? And if this woman lifted one finger to her hair, Melanie thought, she’d flatten her.
“Can you have her ready in time?” Cara asked.
“A snap.” Ivy turned and headed for the suitcases.
“Ready?” Melanie glanced anxiously from Cara to Ivy. “Have me ready for what?”
Both Cara and Ivy looked at her now, both smiled slowly.
“Honey,” Ivy said in her deep, smoky voice. “I’m gonna make you a new woman.”
“I have two thousand,” Simon boomed out from the podium. “Two thousand for these amazing Edwardian sterling silver cherub candlesticks. Do I hear twenty-five, twenty-five—” He pointed his gavel and waved it as if he were maestro over an orchestra. “Yes! I have twenty-five to number eleven. Do I hear twenty-seven?”
The spicy scent of freshly crushed apples from the cider stand drifted on the cool morning air and mixed with the sweet smell of just-baked muffins, breads and pies. There were other enticing aromas, as well: caramel apples, warm cinnamon rolls, hot chocolate. Gabe’s stomach rumbled as he folded his arms and leaned against a porch column to watch the show from the front of the house.
And what a show it was.
The cast of players—namely the buyers—who’d come from as far away as England and Germany, were the most interesting part of the performance. Most of the nearly three hundred people present were blatantly wealthy. The men wore expensive, tailored suits and Rolex watches, while the women wore elegant silk dresses and diamonds the size of baseballs. Men and women alike sat stiff as fence posts, with bored, disinterested expressions on their faces. Gabe wondered if a loose rat under the chairs might liven things up a bit.
The auction had opened maybe twenty minutes ago, but already this guy Simon had prodded close to thirty thousand dollars from the audience. He talked the same as he looked: fast and smooth. And with his refined good looks, Gabe supposed that women found the guy attractive, as well.
He’d been chewing on that thought since he’d met the man, wondering what the relationship between Melanie and this Simon was, or had been, but it was a big bite he couldn’t seem to swallow. He knew they were friends, but he couldn’t stop thinking that they might be more. The auctioneer had been friendly enough, and though he had an air of detachment about him, Gabe had the distinct feeling that the guy was keenly aware of everything and everyone around him.
Gabe listened to Simon describe the next item up for bid, a nineteenth-century oil painting by an artist Gabe had never heard of. He watched the auctioneer work the crowd, badger them and squeeze the price up until their eyes nearly bulged. He was good, Gabe had to admit. Damn good. He didn’t like the idea of Melanie with this guy one little bit. But then, he realized, he didn’t like the idea of Melanie with any guy other than him.
He’d been too busy helping set up this morning to talk to her or her son, but he knew Kevin was playing upstairs with a few other kids from the center and that Melanie was probably watching the auction from a bedroom window.
He knew how much she’d wanted to be out here, to be a part of the auction. Someone had taken away everything from her, forced her to give up the life that she’d enjoyed so much, her friends, her home. Forced her to run away and hide, to be afraid. Gabe didn’t know why, but he did know who.
Vincent. Gabe had no idea who the man was, but he did know he couldn’t wait to meet up with him. He couldn’t wait to show the bastard what he thought of men who bullied women and children. Soon, Gabe thought as he narrowed his eyes. They’d be meeting soon.
Ian had told him this morning that his contact in Washington had pulled together a file on Melanie, and Ian thought that he’d have the information tonight. Gabe had no plan as to what he would do with that information once he had it, but he’d damn well do something. If she hated him for interfering, then so be it. He wasn’t about to stand around and do nothing. He couldn’t. Somehow, someway, he was going to help her and Kevin—whether she liked it or not.
And she wouldn’t, of course. That was a given.
From the corner of his eye, he noticed Cara watching him from one of the food stands. In fact, for the past few minutes, every time he’d glanced her way, he’d noticed her watching him. He wondered why she’d suddenly gained such an interest in him.
She was up to something, but he’d be damned if he knew what it was.
“Hey, handsome, care to buy a lady a drink?”
He turned at the warm-as-smooth-whiskey Southern drawl behind him.
Good God.
The woman was hot enough to fry any man’s brain. Her hair was the palest blond, short and shaggy around a porcelain-smooth face. Her charcoal-smudged eyes were huge, her wide, sensual lips deep-dark red, accented by a tiny mole above one tilted up corner. He couldn’t stop his gaze from traveling downward to the lush cleavage at the deep V of her tight burgundy sweater, down to the narrow waist of her snug black skirt, then lower still, down her impossibly long curvy legs to her glossy black high heels.
His heart slammed in his chest. In spite of the fact that she wasn’t the woman he wanted, he gave her a long look of appreciation. He was flesh and blood, after all.
When his gaze returned to the woman’s face, when he noticed the deep, smoke-colored eyes, a warning bell sounded loudly in his brain.
He’d been had.
“Darlin’,” he drawled right back, “with a body like that, I’ll buy you anything you want.”
The woman’s enticing smile dipped a fraction, then lifted again as she stepped closer. She smelled exotic, Gabe noted. Something that made a man think of hot, hard sex.
She reached out and ran a long, blood-red nail up his arm. “But you don’t know what I want,” she purred. “And you don’t know how much it will cost you.”
“I know what you want, sweetheart.” He brought his lips close to hers, hovered there as he whispered, “And I know exactly how much it will cost me.”
Her eyes widened, then narrowed. With a sigh, she folded her arms and looked at him. “How did you know?”
He smiled, held her surprised gaze. “Those eyes of yours, darlin’. You could black out your front teeth and dress yourself in a clown suit and I’d know it was you.” He reached out, lightly touched the fake mole with his fingertip. “Nice touch.”
She frowned, glanced around longingly at all the people, then sighed. “This was a bad idea. If you knew it was me, someone else might, too. I’ll have to go back inside.”
“Hold on.” He reached into the front pocket of his shirt, pulled out a pair of sunglasses, then slid them over her eyes. “They might be a little big for you, but they’ll do for now.”
He leaned toward her, lowered his mouth close to her ear. “Now proposition me again in that hot little Southern accent. Damn if that didn’t turn me on.”
Melanie shivered at the warm, brief brush of Gabe’s lips on her earlobe. Heat spread through her body, seeped into her bones and made them feel soft. She’d never flirted like this before, certainly had never played the role of a tease. But Ivy’s makeover had turned Melanie into some kind of a femme fatale. She felt sensuous and desirable and incredibly sexy.
Shameless, and maybe just a little bit indecent.
And because she was with Gabe, she also felt turned on.
The sound of Simon’s voice calling out bids faded in the background, as did the throng of people around them. She felt herself sway toward him, felt her lips part as she lifted her face to
his.
His deep green eyes darkened, then narrowed dangerously. “Sweetheart, I’ve kept my hands off you for a week and it’s nearly killed me. If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to drag you into that house, find an empty room and do everything that I’ve been thinking about for the past six days.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him to describe, in detail, what those things were, then do each and every one of them to her. When she suddenly remembered where she was, she jerked back and felt the burn of her blush. Good heavens! She’d practically begged him to take her, right here, in plain sight of everyone!
“I—I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I wasn’t thinking. I got a little caught up in…my disguise.”
“Shouldn’t a disguise make you less noticeable?” he asked, letting his gaze roam over her once again. “You could start a riot looking like this.”
Melanie couldn’t stop the thrill that coursed through her as Gabe stared at her with such open lust. “Ivy said I should look the opposite of how people would usually see me. Since I normally dress conservative, especially at an auction, this is about as opposite as it gets.”
His gaze dropped to her low-cut neckline, then back up to her face. He arched a brow at her, but said nothing. She felt her blush deepen. “Ivy also said that a little cleavage would, uh, divert attention from my face.”
“Ivy was certainly right about that.” Gabe drew in a deep breath. “But it also makes me want to punch out every guy here who looks at you. Which, at the moment—” he scanned the audience behind him “—includes at least two of my brothers. They look like they’re about ready to drown in their own drool.”
Melanie reached up and covered her chest with her hand as she looked out and noticed Reese and Lucian staring openly at her from the sidelines of the crowd. “This is a bad idea,” she said weakly and started to back toward the front door.
He took her wrist, pulled her gently back. “You just stick close to me, darlin’. I’ll handle crowd control.” His grin was crooked as he tucked her hand neatly under his arm. “Now about that drink you wanted—hot apple cider or lemonade?”
The warmth and strength of his body against hers gave her courage and she relaxed against him, then fell back into her disguise and gave a coquettish tilt of her head. “Why, sugar,” she drawled, “you know I like my drinks hot, just like my men.”
He closed his eyes on a low, deep groan, then shook his head and chuckled. “Lord, I think this is going to be a long day.” He leaned close and whispered into her ear. “And an even longer night, sweetheart.”
She shivered at the thought of a long night with Gabe. Could she resist him?
Did she want to?
She didn’t know anymore. She couldn’t think with him so close, couldn’t be logical or rational—didn’t want to be. It felt good to be on Gabe’s arm, to flirt and drink cider and nibble on the caramel apple he’d insisted on buying for her. She smiled and nodded at people she’d known for years, and not one of them had a clue who she was. Even Lloyd Withers, the lecherous little buyer for Marple and Barnes who’d been hitting on her for years, stared at her hard with his beady little eyes and didn’t recognize her.
She stayed on the sidelines, oozed Southern charm and sensuality to keep in character with the role Ivy and Cara had created for her, enjoyed the excitement of the auction as Simon worked his magic on the crowd. She knew she’d have to avoid any contact with her friend, but she was happy to simply watch. It would possibly be years before she could once again be a part of this world she loved so much, and she wanted to savor every precious minute.
She felt lighter than she had in years, happy. Secure that for this one day, with Gabe at her side, she and Kevin would be safe.
By seven that evening, Simon and the buyers had left, the tent and folding chairs were loaded into the backs of Lucian’s and Reese’s pickups, and the volunteers had cleaned up and gone home. The warm day eased into a cool evening, and the scent of grilled food and pumpkin pies lingered in the air. A breeze swirled fallen leaves over the lawn where, only hours ago, fierce battles had raged in bidding wars between buyers and collectors.
They had left, most carrying their treasures with them, the victors smug, the losers indignant, both already anxious for the next battle at another auction.
For the Killian Shawnessy Foundation, the day had been most profitable.
Inside the house, the Sinclairs and Shawnessys gathered around the kitchen table. Melanie, still dressed in the same sweater and skirt, but minus her blond bombshell wig, makeup and sexy mole, joined in with the flurry of talk and laughter.
Gabe stood back, watching her. He’d never seen her as happy as she’d been today, so relaxed. There’d been a glow about her that had absolutely captivated him today. Of course, in that outfit she’d worn to the auction, she’d pretty much captivated every man there. Remembering the expressions on his brother’s faces when he’d explained the blond bombshell on his arm was Melanie, and she was incognito for the day, Gabe chuckled to himself. Both Reese and Lucian were profoundly disappointed that the blonde wouldn’t be going anywhere with either one of them.
She’s mine, Gabe’s expression had told his brothers and every other man who’d looked at Melanie. All mine.
“Okay, everybody, gather round.” A silver bracelet of interlinking roses dangled from Cara’s wrist as she handed out plastic flute glasses. Ian, with a loud pop, opened the champagne bottle and glasses were filled. Kevin beamed when he was given a flute of sparkling cider.
“A toast.” Cara raised her glass. “To Melanie. For without her uncanny ability to recognize the common from the unique we would not have raised five hundred thousand dollars today.”
There was a long moment of stunned silence, then the room broke into cheers and whistles. Callan hugged Abby while Lucian and Reese slapped each other on the back. Ian touched glasses with Cara, then tenderly kissed his wife and smiled.
Gabe took advantage of the moment to slip an arm around Melanie’s waist and pull her close, then press his lips to hers. He heard her catch of breath, felt her mouth tremble against his, and it was all he could do not to drag her into his arms and kiss her the way he really wanted to.
At the moment, however, with Kevin and his family watching, it was hardly the time. He tightened his hold on her briefly, then released her.
Later, he told her with his eyes. Later you are all mine.
She blushed furiously, then looked quickly away as she sipped her champagne.
“You know, Lucian—” Reese had an evil grin on his face as he set his champagne glass down on the table “—I do believe a proper Sinclair thank-you for Melanie is in order here, don’t you?”
“Absolutely.” Lucian set his glass down as well. “After you, bro.”
“Stop that right now,” Cara warned. Abby, who’d once been the recipient herself of the Sinclair males’ nonsense—of which Gabe had been a participant, as well—simply rolled her eyes.
Grinning, Lucian and Reese ignored Cara and advanced on Melanie. Her eyes widened, and she started to take a step back, but they were too quick.
Reese snatched her into his arms and laid one on her.
Dammit! Gabe frowned darkly at his brothers; he should have seen this coming and headed it off before it got started. He pulled Reese away, but couldn’t stop Lucian from slipping in and taking over where Reese had left off.
Melanie’s eyes were wide and startled as Lucian kissed her, her palms flat on his chest.
“You know what they say,” Gabe growled as he grabbed Lucian by the scruff of the neck and yanked hard.
“No.” Lucian’s eyes glinted with amusement as he squared off in front of Gabe. “What do they say?”
“‘It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt.”’ Gabe moved toward Lucian first. “Well, someone is about to get hurt.”
“Knock it off, all three of you.” Cara glared at Reese for starting it, then quickly stepped between Gabe and Lucian and
put a hand on each of their chests. “You can all go outside and be stupid later. Right now we have another toast to make.”
Gabe scowled at his brothers, then folded his arms and straightened. Melanie still look bewildered, but none the worse for wear, and Kevin, delighted by all the ruckus, bounced in his chair.
Cara moved back beside her husband, then glanced up at him and smiled broadly. He slid an arm around her waist and smiled right back.
Tears filled her eyes as she lifted her glass and looked around the room. “To the first Sinclair-Shawnessy child, who will make his, or her, appearance in approximately seven months’ time.”
Pandemonium broke out, and though Melanie stood by awkwardly for the first few moments, Gabe quickly pulled her into the celebration. This time, everybody kissed everybody and nobody minded. Kevin had no idea what all the fuss was about, but he giggled and squirmed as he was tossed around and soundly smooched.
When the celebration became a heated argument between the Sinclair brothers over who was not only the best-looking uncle, but the most intelligent, Cara threw up her hands and told everyone that she was exhausted and was taking her husband and going home.
“We were hoping you’d let us take Kevin tonight,” Cara said quietly to Melanie while her son roughhoused with Reese. “One of our sponsors is hosting a pancake breakfast at the center tomorrow morning and there’ll be games and prizes for the kids.”
Gabe saw the fear flicker across Melanie’s face, but then she looked at her son, watched him laugh and play, and those soft, sad eyes of hers suddenly turned sharp and bright. “Oh course you can take him. Thank you, he’ll love it.”
When they told Kevin he screamed with delight and ran upstairs to get his pajamas and toothbrush. The house quickly emptied after that. Callan and Abby were celebrating their three-month anniversary and had private plans; Reese and Lucian had a hot poker game going at the tavern, which, despite his brothers’ taunting, Gabe declined to join.
He stood on the front porch and watched while Melanie waved goodbye to her son, watched her stare after the van until she could no longer see the taillights.
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