“Well, my dear, you sold,” I shiver in mock horror at his words. He continues, “Excuse me, your future date spent twenty-five thousand dollars for an evening with you.”

What? Holy shit! I’m dumbfounded. I know the starting bid was fifteen thousand for all entrants, but someone actually paid ten thousand more than that? Pride and a feeling of worth soars within me, repairing part of the damage Donavan inflicted earlier on my ego.

I try to rationalize someone I don’t know spending that kind of money on a date with me, and I can’t. It had to have been one of the chair people who worked closely on the board with me. This was the only plausible explanation. Most of the other women on the stage had been part of the elite Hollywood charity circle—they had friends and family in the audience to bid on them. I didn’t.

I can only deduce that it’s someone I’d worked with in making this benefit happen. It’s the only logical explanation for the amount of money spent. I’m flattered that one of the people on either the Board or the organization committee had thought highly enough of me to bid that kind of money. I sigh and relax a bit with the knowledge that I will probably have to go on a date with a widowed elderly gentleman or possibly none at all. Maybe the person just wants to donate to us and will let me off the hook. What a relief! I was worried about the date part. Some loser expecting something in return for his generous donation—ugh!

“So did you see who won the auction?”

“Sorry, sweetie,” he says as he pats my knee. “The guy was off to the side. I was in the back. I couldn’t see him.”

“Oh—okay,” disappointment fills my voice as I begin to worry again.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure it is one of the old guys from the board—” he stops, realizing he’s just implied that those are the only men willing to bid on me. He continues cautiously, knowing full well that I’m in bitch-mode right now. “You know what I meant, Ry. They all love you! They’ll do anything to support you.” He eyes me carefully and realizes he should stop while he is ahead.

I sigh loudly, letting it go with the realization that I’m uber-sensitive right now. I take note that most of the participants have cleared out of the backstage area. “Well, my friend, I should be getting back to the soiree.” I stand, smoothing my dress down and wincing as my feet bunch back down into my shoes. “I, for one, am more than done with my duties for the evening. I’m ready to go home and devour that chocolate and wine in the comfort of my fluffy robe and comfy couch.”

“You don’t want to wait and see what the tally is for the night?” he asks, rising from the seat to follow behind me.

We walk past the alcove that Donavan and I had occupied earlier, and I blush, keeping my head down so that Dane won’t question me. “I asked Stella to text me later when it’s added up.” I push open the door to enter the party again. “I don’t need to be here for that—,” I falter as I walk through the door and see Donavan leaning a shoulder casually against the wall, surveying the crowd. He’s a man who is obviously at ease with who he is, regardless of his surroundings. He exudes an aura of raw power mixed with something deeper, something darker that I can’t seem to put my finger on. Rogue. Rebel. Reckless. All three descriptions flash through my head for despite this man’s refined look, he screams definite trouble.

Dane bumps into me from behind as I stop abruptly when Donavan’s scanning eyes connect with mine. “Rylee—” Dane complains until he realizes why I’ve stopped. “Well, shit, if it isn’t Mr. Brooding. What’s going on here, Ry?”

I roll my eyes at the thought of Donavan’s stupid bet. “Arrogance run amuck,” I mutter to him. “I have to take care of something.” I toss over my shoulder, “Be right back.”

I stalk toward Donavan, more than aware that his eyes track my every movement and at the same time annoyed at having to deal with this now. Our banter has been an amusing way to pass the evening’s time, running the gamut of arousing at some points to down right frustrating at others, but the night’s over and I’m ready to go home. Game over. He pushes his shoulder off the wall, straightening the long length of his lean body as I walk toward him. The corners of his mouth turn up slightly as he attempts to gauge my mood.

I reach him and hold up a hand to stop him before he even begins to speak. “Look, Ace, I’m tired and in a really shitty mood right now. It’s time for me to call it a night—”

“And just when I was going to offer to take you to places you didn’t even know existed before,” he says dryly with just a ghost of a smile and an arch of an eyebrow. “You don’t know what you’re missing, sweetheart.”

I snort loudly, all propriety out the window. “You’re fucking kidding me, right? You actually get women with lines like that?”

“I’m wounded,” he smirks, his eyes full of humor as he holds his hand to his heart in false pain. “You’d be surprised what my mouth gets with those lines.”

I just stare at him. The man has absolutely no humility. “I don’t have time for your childish games right now. I just had to endure humiliation beyond my worst nightmare, and I’m more pissed off than you can imagine. I especially don’t want to deal with you right now.”

If he is shocked at my rant, he hides it well, for his face remains impassive except for the muscle pulsing with his clenched jaw. “I do love a woman who tells it like it is,” he murmurs quietly to himself.

I place my hands on my hips and continue, “So I’m going home in about ten minutes. Night’s over. I win our idiotic bet, so you better get your check and fill it out because you’re going home with lighter pockets tonight.”

His lips quirk up in an amused smirk. “Twenty-five thousand lighter, in fact,” he deadpans.

“No, we agreed on twen—” I stop as a smile spreads across his lips, realization slowly dawning on me. Oh fuck! He bid on me. Not only did he bid on me, but he bid on me and won. He officially has a date with me.

I grit my teeth and raise my head toward the ceiling, inhaling slowly, trying to calm myself. “No—uh-uh. This is bullshit and you know it!” I glare at him as he starts to speak. “That wasn’t the deal. I didn’t agree to this!” I’m flustered and exasperated, so furious that I’m beyond reason.

“A bet’s a bet, Ryles.”

“It’s Rylee, you asshole!” I spit at him. Who the hell does he think he is? First he buys me and then he thinks he can give me a nickname? I know that the irrational female in me has reared her Medusa-like head, but I really don’t care at this point.

“Last time I checked, sweetheart, my name wasn’t Ace,” he retorts with some justification. The rasp of his voice grates over me like sandpaper. He casually leans back against the wall, as if this is a conversation he has every day.

His nonchalance fuels my ire. “You cheated. You-you-aaarrgh!” My frustration is stifling my ability to form coherent thoughts and speak complete sentences.

“We never had time to outline any rules or stipulations.” He raises his eyebrows and shrugs, “You were pulled away. That left everything as fair game.” His smile is irritating. The humor in his intoxicating green eyes is infuriating.

Oh shit! I try to argue cleverly with him and I just end up looking like a guppy, opening and closing my mouth several times without a word falling from my lips.

He pushes off the wall and steps in closer to me. His signature scent envelops me. “I guess I just proved you do, in fact, lose sometimes, Ryles.” He reaches up to move a tendril that has fallen over my face, his lone dimple deepening with his victorious smirk. I recoil at his touch but he holds my jaw firm in his hands. “I’m looking forward to our date, Rylee.” He grazes a thumb over my cheek and angles his head to the side while he considers his next statement. “In fact, more than any other date I’ve had in a while.”

I close my eyes momentarily, leaning my head back as “Oh God!” slips from my lips in a sigh. What an unbelievable night!

“So that’s what it will sound like?”

I open my eyes, confused at his comment, to see him regarding me with a bemused look on his face. “What?” I bark, my response harsh like a curse.

“Those words, Oh God,” he mimics me, reaching out and running a finger down the side of my face, “Now I know exactly how you’ll sound when you say that while I’m buried deep inside of you.”

I open my mouth in shock at his audacity, the overconfidence of his words astounding me. His haughty smile grates on my last nerve. The arrogant prick. Luckily I’m able to voice an articulate thought. “Wow! You sure think a lot of yourself, don’t you, Ace?”

He slips his hands into his pockets, his smirk dominating his magnificent face. He leans in, a salacious look in his eyes and his voice a daunting whisper. “Oh, sweetheart, there is definitely a lot of me to think about.” His quiet laugh sends a chill up my spine. “I’ll be in touch.”

And with that, Mr. Arrogant turns on his heels and walks away without a backwards glance. I watch him and his broad shoulders until he disappears into the throng of people and finally exhale the breath I didn’t know I was holding.

Screw him and his sexy mouth and his gorgeous green eyes framed with thick lashes and his dexterous hands and his … his … just his everything! Ugh! I’m shaking I’m so furious with him.

And at myself. Donavan is confident and sure of himself and more than comfortable with being the alpha male. For me, there is nothing more attractive in a man than that. But right now, I’m irritated with him for he’s gotten under my skin. And I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not, but I know that places inside of me that died that horrific day two years ago showed some signs of life tonight.