With anticipation thick in the air, the announcer called
out, โSold!โ
And Sebastion Sinclair watched as the man just purchased
was led off the stage to the sounds of raucous feminine
cheers. Soon it would be his turn.
How the hell did I get myself talked into this? He
wondered. Wearing a suit, watching huge amounts of money
change hands with no consideration of the cost, being the
center of attention-he hated it all. It reminded him of
his youth and the fact that he had nothing in common with
these shallow blue bloods.
Most of all, he hated the idea of being bought like an
expensive toy for the amusement of rich women-regardless
of the cause.
He seemed to be the only male not thrilled with the
prospect of displaying himself. The others, in ages
varying from late twenties to early forties, were smiling,
flaunting their wares so to speak, and generally getting
into the spirit of the thing. Only one man remained in
line before Sebastian now and judging by the brawn of the
guy and his rough-whiskered chin, he wouldnโt last long.
The women were really going berserk on the macho ones.
Which was probably why the construction workers had on
very snug, tattered jeans and T-shirts too tight for men
half their size-an adjustment for their female audience,
no doubt. There was absolutely no way a man could work
comfortably in a shirt that tight.
Likewise, the landscapers wore their work boots and jeans,
some of them with no shirts on at all. And the carpenter-
he had a heavy tool belt hanging low on his hips. The
ensemble was complete with wrenches, a nail pouch, and the
largest hammer Sebastian had ever seen, no doubt a pitiful
attempt at symbolism. Sebastian shook his head and
tried, without much success, to mask his amusement.
The announcer, a woman with a very wide, toothy smile, led
a man around the stage by one finger hooked in his belt
loop. The audience roared, then roared again when she
had him turn, showing him to advantage. The spotlight
moved over his backside and feminine shrieks filled the
air.
Sebastian wondered if any of these rich people had
realized the seriousness of the benefit, the purpose the
money would serve in assisting abused women. He doubted
it. To them, it was a lark, not a humanitarian deed to
build shelters and help those in need.
To Sebastian, it was much more personal.
The brawny guy ahead of him bounded onstage, anxious for
his turn to titillate the giggling masses, and Sebastian
was left with a female attendant waiting for his cue.
As heโd guessed, the bewhiskered fellow went quickly, the
last bid coming on a crescendo of womanly squeals and
bawdy jests. The attendant took Sebastianโs arm and
directed him forward.
As he reached the center of the stage, hot lighting
flooded over him. He stared out at the audience,
satisfied with their reckless spending, but thoroughly
disgusted by their careless attitudes. None of them gave
a thought to where the money would go or how badly it was
needed. They were all the same, full of glitz and shine;
shallow, frivolous, concentrating only on their own
pleasures. He was disdainful of them all.
And then he saw her.
She stood alone, a small dark-haired woman with huge eyes
that dominated her face and expressed her fascination.
She didnโt smile as he met her stare. She didnโt yell
out suggestions or a bid as the other women were doing.
She didnโt laugh or joke; she didnโt do anything but watch
him. He no longer heard the announcer, no longer felt
the heat of the bright lights. Her boredom and
disinterest seemed to melt away. Her face was upturned,
her lips slightly parted, as if in surprise. And he know-
she couldnโt look away. Some how he held her physically
by the connection of their gazes.
Sabastian didnโt dare blink. She seemed awestruck and
innocent and he found her utterly irresistible. For some
insane reason, because something inside him had stirred
and heated at the sight of her, he had no intention of
letting her go.
Maybe he wouldnโt berate Shay after all. He just might
be thanking her.
She wanted him.
Brandi stood in the middle of the floor, right beneath the
stage. The men had been coming and going none of them
overly remarkable to her mind, but then, she wasnโt there
to buy a man. She was only attending this benefit to
support her sister, Shay. In truth, she avoided
gatherings like this one, where the testosterone filled
the air so thick you could choke on it. And there were
any number of ways she would have preferred to spend her
birthday.
But none of that matter at the moment. The man onstage
was incredible, and once her gaze locked with his, she
couldnโt seem to find the connection to him, and she
couldnโt seem to find the wit- or the will-to walk away.
The woman handling handling the bids chuckled at some jest
Brandi had missed, then turned to catch the manโs arm.
Holding a microphone in one hand, she gripped his arm
firmly with the other and cuddled up to him. โSuch a
generous bid!โ she called out sounding very excited,
though Brandi, deeply involved in her own scrutiny, hadnโt
heard the exact amount offered. โHeโs worth every penny,
ladies! Come on now, donโt be shy. This one is quite a
specimen.โ She squeezed his upper arm testing his
muscle, then made an โ oohingโ expression to the
audience.
The man didnโt look overly complimented. He looked
disdainful, and rather than work toward drawing more
attention to himself as the other men had, he merely
crossed his arms and braced his long legs apart. He
seemed impossibly tall and strong and masculine in his
rigid stance. As impenetrable as a stone wall. Almost
barbaric in his strength. And he continued to look at
Brandi.
The announcer struggled to gain his cooperation. She
tried to force him into a turn, wanting to display him as
she had the others in order to raise the already
astronomical sum theyโd collected. He resisted her
efforts with ease. The announcer couldnโt budge him a
single inch.
And the women loved it. They called out more bids, made
explicit suggestions on what theyโd do with him and
haggled amongst themselves.
Brandiโs fascination built. Never before had she felt
it, at least, not in eight long years. And before that,
sheโs simply been too young. But there was no denying
the interest surging inside her now. Sheโd made a
decision earlier that day, a decision that would change
her life-hopefully for the better. But this? Could she
really consider bidding on a man? On this man?
Excerpt from Fantasy by Lori Foster All rights reserved by publisher and author
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