it belonged to stepped inside, Charley gasped.
It was him. Her fantasy man from the lobby.
Perfect timing, hot stuff.
He took one look at the scene—giant asshole manhandling her like a rag doll, her belongings scattered on the floor—and his body went rigid.
“Renault Duchanes,” he said, his tone so dark, Charley’s skin erupted in goosebumps.
But that was all it took. One word, one look, and the asshole released her.
“You two are… acquainted?” The creep—Duchanes—stepped away from Charley like she was radioactive.
Ignoring the question, her man turned to her and held out his arm. “They’re almost ready to start the bidding, love. Shall we?”
Love? God, the sweet seduction in his voice made her ache.
She took the offered arm, surprised at how firm his forearm muscle was, thick and taut beneath a soft wool suit jacket.
Duchanes narrowed his eyes, but Charley wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of calling them out. Flashing a smug smile, she said to her man, “You were right, honey. These auctions do bring out the douchebags.”
“I warned you.” He winked at her, but when he turned back to the other guy, it felt like someone sucked all the air out of the room.
Tension simmered between them. Clearly, they knew each other. Clearly, they weren’t friends. They seemed to be having an entire conversation with nothing more than dirty looks and threatening scowls.
Finally, Duchanes backed off, exiting the room with grunt of annoyance.
Charley blew out a breath, her heart rate slowing back to normal.
“Are you hurt?” the man asked, crouching down to pick up her things.
“I’ll survive. That asshole a friend of yours?”
“He won’t bother you again.”
“Better fucking not.” She reached out to collect her purse and the taser, the slightest brush of his fingertips sending a zing of pleasure up her arm. “Prick was this close to getting fifty thousand volts up the ass.”
She kept the taser in hand, just in case.
The man chuckled and shook his head, and Charley snapped her mouth shut, stashing the Jersey girl back inside. She was supposed to be a wealthy art collector, and art collectors didn’t go around tasing random creeps at auctions or cursing like scrappy bitches in front of polite company.
Shit, shit, shit.
Tonight was not going according to plan.
“Thanks for the save,” she said, searching for a way to break free of his heated gaze. “I should… check my messages. My boss is… messaging me.”
Smooth, Charley. Real smooth.
Cringing, she traded her weapon for the phone, turning it back on vibrate. A dozen notifications flooded in from Rudy, but there was a text from her sister too—no note, just a picture of a huge cucumber strategically positioned between two shriveled avocados.
“Your boss sends you pictures of erotic vegetable art?” the man asked, a hint of playfulness in his tone.
Damn. She hadn’t realized he was standing so close.
“That one’s from my sister,” she said.
His eyes sparkled with mischief and intrigue, a combination that was quickly unraveling her. “Which begs the question… Your sister sends you pictures of erotic vegetable art?”
“It’s… kind of a thing with us. Last night I sent her one with two bananas with whipped cream on the tips, and…” Charley caught herself and shook her head, dropping the phone back into her purse. “Why am I telling you this?”
“Maybe I’m easy to talk to.”
You’re easy to look at, that’s for sure…
He held her gaze another beat, his smile making her heart sputter, then placed his hand on the small of her back. “Follow me.”
I follow no man, Charley thought. The words were poised on the tip of her tongue, but instead of voicing them, she inexplicably gave in to the light pressure of his touch, heading back out into the hallway and wondering why the hell his presence made her so damn lightheaded.
Chapter Three
The walk from the bedroom was a blur, but when the fog finally cleared from her head, Charley found herself seated at the bar, furiously studying a cocktail napkin while her mystery man ordered drinks.
Shock. That’s all it was. And now that the last of it was fading, it was time to escort herself right on out of there. One drink was usually her on-the-clock max, and she wasn’t a big fan of accepting gifts from strangers, either—they always wanted something in return.
But she also sensed he wasn’t the kind of guy who took no for an answer.
Not a stellar quality in a man, but in certain situations? It drove her wild.
This was one of those situations.
Besides, she was feeling rebellious now. Rudy had her working auctions