by Tina Donahue
Right. And it was too late to turn back now. Stoically, Tessa took her place at the appropriate column. The panels surrounding it were together again, hiding this area from the audience. She donned the hooded cloak that covered her from head to toe, the mauve silk lightweight and coolish against her skin.
Brian—a male escort dressed in a flowing white robe and headdress a sheik would love—snapped a pair of gold manacles around her wrists. For this event, he was the slave trader. Handsome as sin, he gave her a conspiratorial wink.
Tessa offered a weak smile.
Felicity leaned in and murmured, “Think of the pirate ship, the sultan.”
Brian lifted his dark eyebrows, clearly not understanding that directive. To Tessa, he said, “You ready, sweetheart?”
“She is,” Felicity assured and stepped back.
He positioned the cloak so the fabric hid Tessa’s body completely. With that finished, she pictured him grabbing his whip and standing at her side, ready for the show. Just as he’d done with all the others.
Music swelled, drums drowning out what had sounded like flutes and a female voice trilling something. Blood pounded in Tessa’s ears, muting it all. With her face lowered, all she could see was the purplish sheen of her cape. She sensed the panels in front of her parting, the stage displayed. Beyond it were a series of steps descending to a stone walkway flanked with splashing fountains, which eventually led to the crowd…the one man who was supposed to win her for an evening.
A full day was reserved for goddesses like Felicity. With her participation in this event, Ronnie would probably have enough funds to build a community college for young women.
The microphone screeched with brief feedback. Tessa made a face. Ronnie said something Tessa didn’t quite catch.
She bit her bottom lip, and decided to hell with it. She was going to take Felicity’s advice and fantasize.
“He’s dark and dangerous,” Felicity had said.
His features would be masculine, strong, slightly rough, his face shadowed with his coming beard. No, wait. He’d have a mustache and a closely cropped goatee, that hair as dark as his eyebrows. His eyes would be black, piercing, his skin a deep bronze, his lips satiny, his mouth full and rich.
He’d move into her with a right given him by birth, as a ruler. As a male. Looking down at her, he’d smile, shameless lust transforming his features, making him seem even more dangerous. Sex would be on his terms. He’d take her in any manner he chose. Orally, vaginally, anally, his strength precluding escape, his stiffened cock demanding its due, all that she could—
Tessa’s cunt stopped aching with need as her hood fell away. Or rather, Brian had pulled it back. Instinctively, she lifted her head, her attention darting everywhere, much as she suspected a real captive would have behaved, not knowing what to expect. A part of her mind recorded water spraying from the fountains, the again-subdued music, rich and seductive. Ronnie’s voice. The muted conversations of the ladies with their so-called masters.
Those men who hadn’t yet made their selections were quiet. Tessa regarded each. Some were listening to Ronnie. Others glanced at Tessa’s cloak, no doubt wanting it off.
With a flourish, Brian complied and pulled the thing from her, then lifted her arms above her head, securing her shackled wrists to the column.
Tessa stiffened at being exposed in every way possible. There was no hiding her nudity or expression up here, not with the lights trained on her. They weren’t fully intrusive, just enough illumination to exhibit, making her the brightest spot among all the shadows and the torches’ flickering flames. The toasty breeze skimmed the faint moisture on her cunt and licked her nipples, puckering them even more so that the tips appeared that much longer. Areas Felicity’s makeup had accentuated.
Perspiration prickled Tessa’s neck. Her heart beat out of time, the pose she struck both daunting and oddly arousing. There was absolutely nothing to compare to this…being chained and displayed. A sensation of delicious helplessness. Intense vulnerability.
Especially as no one spoke up.
Oh no.
Embarrassment drove heat to Tessa’s throat and cheeks. The music played on and on. Each second crawled by while her mind raced. Would her part in the auction stop when the piece ended even though no one had offered a price? Would Ronnie call for an intermission then, or would she want to continue with the rest of the event as quickly as—
Someone called out a bid.
Tessa’s heart paused. She hadn’t heard the amount. It didn’t matter. One man, at least, craved her.
Who? She studied the audience. A guy, forty or so, smiled with kindness, rather than lust, no doubt sensing and seeing her uncertainty. She offered her own smile in return, liking his sympathetic manner, wondering if he was the one who’d bid on her.
No. He’d already turned to the server and was now pointing at his drink as though he wanted a new one more than anything else.
So who had made the offer?
Another client kept looking from her to Ronnie. Others took a moment to study the program, see who was coming up next.
That would be Felicity. For her, the men would shout over each other, demanding to be heard, letting the money flow freely.
Another bid rang out.
Completely surprised, Tessa continued to regard the crowd, her attention drawn finally, almost irresistibly, to Logan Kincaid.
She forgot to breathe.
Someone had relit the torch nearest his table. Its bobbing light bathed him in a warm golden glow.
Tessa’s body softened.
Young—thirties or so, just as she’d thought—he wore his dark-brown hair longish on the top and sides, combed away from his face. His features were rugged, deliciously masculine, especially his shadow of beard. Tessa had no doubt those short bristles would be rough to the touch, a wonderful contradiction to the silkiness of his lips, his generous mouth. A man’s mouth.
Warmth sluiced through her again, the heat soothing this time. Arousing.
He wore a beige blazer that went well with his tan complexion, his white shirt opened at the collar. Decidedly relaxed. The same as his demeanor. He lowered his drink…whiskey or bourbon…from here it was impossible for her to tell. He glanced at his watch, then surveyed the crowd, not her.
Ronnie took another bid.
With a neutral expression, Logan regarded the man who’d made it.
Tessa didn’t bother to look. She focused on Logan.
Another bid followed the last. As if to determine why, Logan finally glanced at the stage.
Tessa’s pulse pounded. Her legs felt watery.
His attention swept upward from the ridiculous shoes she wore to her naked calves and thighs. He studied her exposed cunt and glittering body jewelry for a moment, then continued to her bared breasts, viewing them briefly before he at last reached her eyes.
There, he stopped, as though he hadn’t meant to. There, he lingered.
Chapter Two
Everything seemed to pause…the breeze, Ronnie’s spiel, the beguiling music. Tessa released all of her air on a quiet sigh. Logan’s eyes were far lighter than his dark eyebrows, possibly hazel, his face betraying an unguarded spark of interest and male need.
For her? Was it even possible?
Tessa’s belly fluttered.
A server approached Logan’s table, stopping there, no doubt to ask if he wanted a fresh drink. Logan didn’t seem to notice the young man, as lost in this stunning moment as Tessa was, as though no one else existed.
She watched his hair fluttering in the docile breeze. His attention moved to her mouth. Tessa tried to swallow and couldn’t. Her throat was too dry, yet she felt no distress. Although she was nude, confined, displayed wantonly, Logan’s expression wasn’t at all lewd. Rather, his unwavering scrutiny comforted and seduced, his manner was somehow protective, which made the passing seconds that much more electrifying.
Unashamed, he met her gaze once more, drinking her in. As she did with h
im.
How long they remained like that, Tessa wasn’t certain. The crowd’s chatter started to die down. The musical piece ended and another began. The server finally gestured to Logan’s empty glass, then bent at the waist to say something. More feedback poured from the microphone. Tessa flinched at the piercing sound. Ronnie’s voice followed. To the side, a man responded to whatever she’d said. Offering his bid? Ronnie answered him, sounding pleased. A flurry of applause followed.
Why? Had that guy offered the winning amount?
Tessa knew she should have searched the crowd to see who he was, but couldn’t. Logan continued to capture her fully. He regarded her for a moment more, then focused on the other clients as if he’d finally remembered them. His preoccupation fell away quickly, his features focused, intent.
“Hold on,” he called out.
His deep baritone sent a shiver of longing through Tessa, along with his request. Was he actually going to bid on her?
“Yes?” Ronnie said into the microphone.
Logan pushed up in his chair, his elbow on the table’s glass top. “What was the last bid?”
Ronnie told him.
“I’ll double it,” Logan said.
Many of the other men turned in their seats to regard him. Tessa gaped openly.
Ronnie murmured, “I’m sorry, but the bid was already closed.” She gestured to the man who’d offered the winning sum.
“It’s an easy matter to open it again,” Logan said, his manner brooking no argument. He spoke to the man. “Surely, you don’t mind.”
Tessa’s pulse rate continued to tick upward as she regarded the man. Probably late forties, but still in good shape with a full head of hair and a healthy tan. Nice looking actually, in a corporate CEO kind of way. And clearly confused at all the fuss over her. “Well…” he said.
“I’m offering that much more for your charities,” Logan argued to Ronnie.
She seemed stumped for a response. At last, she spoke to the other man. “The event is far from over. You can choose someone else.”
He studied the program a bit petulantly. Tessa froze, awaiting his decision. With a what-the-hell shrug, he said to Logan, “Congratulations.”
“Wonderful.” Ronnie beamed. “You’ve just won a day with—”
“A week,” Logan interrupted.
Tessa got so dizzy, she had to lock her knees to keep standing. A week? What was he talking about? It was supposed to be for an evening or one day only, depending upon the amount donated. Surely, he misunderstood.
Ronnie fingered her pearls. “I’m sorry, but your bid, even double, is only for one—”
“Multiply it by seven,” he said. “I want a week.”
Tessa forced down a swallow.
The other ladies had already stopped conversing with their men. Even the young woman who was on her master’s lap was no longer kissing him. Everyone’s attention swung from Tessa to Logan to Ronnie.
Her hand dropped away from her pearls. “I’m not the one who can agree to that…only Tessa can.” With her eyebrows raised, Ronnie regarded her.
As one, the crowd also stared at Tessa.
She regarded Logan. His expression was firm, not indecent. He clearly knew what he wanted, and apparently that seemed to be her. Why? Although Tessa sensed he liked her features and possibly her curves, she was no beauty like the other escorts here. Again, she considered all that he’d lost. Maybe he didn’t want a perfect female who might be a challenge to please, at least in his mind. Could be he required comfort more than anything. Someone ordinary he could simply be himself with.
That thought might have discouraged or insulted another woman. Tessa had endured too much of her own pain to disregard his. Compassion swelled in her for what he’d been through, the facts she recalled from the newspaper accounts. Beneath that was stark female need. His voice was so strong and sexy, while his rough good looks made her skin tingle.
She cleared her throat and blurted, “Okay.”
He smiled. A wondrous, unexpected smile. Tessa saw his surprise that he’d done so, surely not meaning to. The same as when his negligent perusal of her body had ended on her face, where he’d paused and remained.
Like now.
He stared at Tessa. She did the same with him, unable to help herself.
Ronnie clapped her hands, breaking the magical moment. “Then it’s settled. Let’s take a brief intermission before we move on with the program.”
Hushed conversations rippled through the audience. Servers bent their heads to the clients, listening to the next round of orders, whether it was for drinks or hors d’oeuvres.
Brian unchained Tessa, but didn’t remove her shackles. Leaning into her, he murmured, “That was something.”
“It was, wasn’t it?”
He grinned at her obvious astonishment. With the chain wrapped around one hand, he led her off the stage, his broad shoulders blocking her view of Logan. She sensed him watching…waiting for her arrival. For Tessa, it took forever. She could only manage small steps in the pattens or risk falling. Those men seated at the tables closest to her glanced up. At any other time, Tessa might have worried about how she looked, whether they’d find fault with her. Logan’s bid had changed that. She honestly didn’t care what they thought.
They seemed to know and offered smiles of encouragement, as though she were in a sporting event they wanted her to win.
Hadn’t she already done that with Logan having fought to have her? Something no other man had ever done.
Visions of him touching, taking her, danced in Tessa’s thoughts, sapping her strength. Like a child just learning to walk, she had to focus on her every move, making certain she didn’t stumble. Water sprayed her ankles and calves as she negotiated the narrow walkway between the fountains then down the next series of steps, at length arriving at Logan’s table.
He lifted his face to her.
The conversations surrounding them receded once more, everything drifting away, leaving only her and him.
He was even better looking up close, his lashes unspeakably long, his irises definitely hazel, his mouth oh so inviting. Tessa edged closer, enticed by what she saw and his presence. Compelling. Undeniably male. A woman could get lost within the impassioned pressure from his lips. His kiss deep, wet, satisfying. His big body confining hers. Her face pressed to his throat, her breath warming him further.
She suppressed a shiver of delight, her attention moving to his shoulders, chest, then to what little the opened collar of his shirt revealed. It took Tessa a moment to realize she was looking for scars from the fire he’d been in. There weren’t any, only smooth sun-kissed skin. Perhaps he hadn’t been hurt badly. She tried to recall what the articles about him had said, but couldn’t.
“Your prize,” Brian announced, delivering his rehearsed lines in his thick Brooklyn accent. “Would you like me to secure her to the column or on a pillow at your feet?”
Logan regarded the garnets dangling from Tessa’s navel. Pinpoints of crimson light skimmed her skin…her curves.
A lifetime of being rejected, because of her weight, hadn’t disappeared in an instant. However, Tessa wasn’t as daunted as she might have been at him seeing her up close, without a stitch on.
“Take them off,” Logan said.
He wanted her fully nude? Not even wearing so much as body jewelry?
At his command, a rush of unrestrained desire swept through Tessa. She was his for a week. Seven sensuous days. Time she’d use to delight him in every way she could, herself too, beginning with her full submission now.
Obediently, she touched her jewelry, ready to remove it.
“No.” Logan put his hand on hers.
His palm was warm and dry, his blunt fingertips touching her belly, making those muscles quiver. A hint of moisture rushed from her pussy, dampening it for his thick, meaty cock. Rarely had Tessa felt as nude, wonderfully defenseless.
He spoke to Brian. “Unlock the cuffs, shackles, whatever you cal
l them.”
“They’re not real,” the young man explained. “All I have to do is tug and they come right off.” His hands floated in air as he waited for Logan to get out of the way so he could remove them.
A moment passed before Logan appeared to realize he was still covering Tessa’s hands with his, touching them and her belly, making her weak with need.
As he finally let her go, Brian gave the gold metal a firm pull, then removed it and the chains.
Logan stood. Given his height, at least six-three, the top of Tessa’s head came to his chin. She lifted her face to his, catching a whiff of his fragrance. Clean, a woodsy masculine scent that tempted, urging her to get closer, to have him envelop her in his strength and warmth.
Tessa didn’t. Not yet. Not here…unless he wanted that.
Taking control of the moment, he slid his hand down her arm, cupping her elbow. She locked her knees to keep from moving into him, making the first and possibly wrong move.
He murmured, “You better sit before you fall.”
With him touching her again, that was a definite possibility. However, he was talking about her pattens, his attention drifting to them. She’d practiced on the dumb things for a week and yet had still wobbled badly, no different from a pre-teen in her first pair of heels.
Tessa sank into the offered chair and gripped her knees to keep them from shaking, not wanting him to see her excitement and renewed anxiety. Tonight had turned out so incredibly amazing, Tessa didn’t want to do anything wrong and kill the magic. She sure as hell did not want to disappoint. “Thanks.” She lifted her feet, displaying the pattens. “As adorable as these are, guess I won’t be wearing them to the mall.”
A grin broke across Logan’s face. Tessa smiled in return. He studied her mouth. Gradually, his manner went back to polite, nonchalant. As though he hadn’t just paid a king’s ransom to have her for seven days.
At the table next to theirs, the client and his lady kissed noisily. When they had to pause for air, they both chuckled, thoroughly enjoying themselves.
Logan remained standing.
“Please,” Tessa said, gesturing to his chair. “Sit.”
