Paying The Playboy's Price. Emilie Rose
had a point. Wally wasn’t Mr. Excitement, but he was kind, pleasant-looking and steadfast. If she married him, they’d probably have predictable Saturday-night-duty sex for the next fifty years. On the other hand, routines were good and sex wasn’t everything. It certainly shouldn’t be the basis for something as important as marriage. Emotions were volatile and unpredictable. Similar ethics and mutual respect were far more important and dependable qualities. If she married Wally, they’d develop other shared interests and love would grow over time like a safe investment….
Wouldn’t it?
Of course it would. If she had doubts, all she had to do was look at her parents. They’d married almost four decades ago to join two banking families, and they’d remained married when many of their friends had divorced.
The archway leading toward the exit drew her gaze again. Should she escape before diving off the bridge of sanity? No. A promise was a promise. But she truly hated going first. She turned back to her friends. “Swear to me you won’t back out. You will buy bachelors tonight no matter what.”
Holly and Andrea smiled angelically and raised their right hands as if taking the oath on a Bible. Juliana didn’t trust those smiles. While her friends’ lives might not be as methodically plotted out as hers, tonight’s escapade was totally out of character for all three of them. Surely one of them would come to her senses before the evening ended?
The microphone screeched, jerking Juliana’s attention back to the hunk commanding center stage—the one she’d been trying hard to ignore. How could any woman resist him? The man was a Grade-A gorgeous devil from his thick black ponytail to his worn low-heeled boots. He wouldn’t need to read an instruction manual to know how to pleasure a woman—assuming that woman could be pleased.
But purchasing the cowboy’s package would take more than recklessness and champagne courage. It meant flagrantly disregarding her mother’s wishes—something she’d carefully avoided until now for fear of the repercussions. But Juliana had to admit the proposed engagement combined with her thirtieth birthday had left her wondering if there was more to life. She’d promised Holly and Andrea she’d investigate the possibility before meekly agreeing to the future her mother had planned for her.
That didn’t prevent Juliana from wondering if she’d taken on a bigger challenge than she could handle when she’d selected her bachelor—a man the complete opposite of anyone she’d dated in the past. She said a silent prayer that the rebel’s price would exceed the limit she, Andrea and Holly had agreed upon, and then she could choose a less intimidating man.
Coward. If you do, then your plan will fail.
Her plan was beginning to sound more than a little like tequila madness. For once in her life, Juliana had decided to break the rules and, since she didn’t have the first clue where to start, she’d chosen Rex Tanner, a hell-raising rebel who she hoped would lead her astray. For the next month, she’d put herself in his corrupting hands and then once she had this last fling out of the way and she was certain she wasn’t missing out on anything worthwhile, she could marry Wally with no regrets.
“Go home before you get into trouble.”
Juliana nearly tumbled off her flimsy sandals at her bossy older brother’s growled warning. She refused to admit she’d like nothing more than to turn and run as fast as her heels would carry her. To annoy Eric, she raised her numbered fan, offering the first bid on Mr. Too-Hot-To-Handle.
Andrea and Holly grinned and gave her thumbs-up. Juliana didn’t dare glance across the room to where her mother, the charity event’s chief organizer, watched with an eagle eye.
She tilted her head back to glare at her brother. “How much trouble can a month of riding lessons cause? Go away, Eric.”
“I’m not worried about the horseback-riding lessons because you already know how to ride. It’s the other half of the prize that concerns me. You’ll kill yourself on a motorcycle. Be reasonable, Juliana. You are not the most coordinated person on the planet.”
The barb stung—mostly because it was true. In fact, these days she limited her exercise routine to swimming because then she wouldn’t fall off anything and get hurt when her mind strayed to work issues.
Eric attempted to take her numbered paddle, but Juliana snatched it out of his reach and stabbed it into the air. “I’m thirty years old—too old for you to be telling me what to do.”
“Somebody needs to. You and your friends—” he glared at Holly and Andrea “—must have been out of your minds to come up with this plan. Buying men, for crissakes. If you want to support the charity, buy Wallace and not this—”
“Hunk,” Holly interrupted, earning a scowl from Eric.
Juliana pasted on the placating smile she reserved for difficult customers. “Actually, Eric, our mother came up with the bachelor-auction idea. Andrea, Holly and I are merely supporting her efforts.”
“Dammit, Juliana, you can’t handle a guy like him. He’ll chew you up and spit you out. Use your brain. Buy Wally. He’s…safe.” He snatched at Juliana’s fan again and once more she jerked it away.
Safe. Those four letters said it all. She’d played it safe her entire life and where had that gotten her? Ahead in her career, but pathetically far behind in her personal life. She’d never fallen head over heels in love or even lust, and she couldn’t help wondering if she was capable of such intense emotions. Not that she wanted the heartache, but was it too much to ask for bells, whistles and earth-moving orgasms? For a woman like her—one who trusted cold, hard facts more than fickle emotions? Probably. But for once in her life, she didn’t want to play it safe.
She glanced at the man on the stage. Safe didn’t make her skin tingle or her breath quicken. She shoved the paddle into the air this time holding it high above her head and slightly behind her. Her brother was taller, but he was as conservative as she was. He wouldn’t make a scene or wrestle her to the ground to keep her from bidding.
“I don’t want to buy Wally. Saturday-night suppers? How unimaginative is that? Besides, I already have a standing dinner date with him on Fridays. What’s wrong with having a little fun? You should try it sometime.”
And then she winced. Eric had been very publicly jilted a few months ago and fun was probably the last thing on his mind. She suspected his heart hadn’t been broken, but his pride had to have taken a serious blow. The worst part was that since he’d failed to marry into the Wilson banking family, her mother had decided Juliana should.
She waved her paddle—a little more desperately this time. “Eric, I have carefully thought this out, and I know what I’m doing, so leave me alone.”
“Sold to number 223,” the MC shouted from the stage. “Pay up and collect your prize, young lady.”
Juliana’s stomach plunged to her crimson-painted toenails. She looked from Eric to her mother’s horrified expression. Andrea and Holly clapped and cheered. Juliana didn’t need to double-check her number to know she’d won the rebel, and she had no idea how much she’d paid for him—a true shock for someone who tracked money for a living. Slowly lowering her arm, she swallowed and briefly closed her eyes as a bolt of unadulterated panic zigzagged through her. She wasn’t ready to face the stage and the consequences of her virgin voyage into mutiny. She might never be ready.
Dizziness forced her to inhale. She faked a smile for Eric and anyone else who might be watching. “Thank you for your concern, big brother, but aren’t you supposed to be behind the curtain getting ready for your turn on the block?”
Eric flinched and paled. A smidgen of guilt pricked Juliana for verbally jabbing his sore spot with a deliberate taunt. Her brother was not happy their mother had shanghaied him as a bachelor. But Eric wasn’t Juliana’s problem right now. She had her own catastrophe-in-the-making to handle. Dread ballooned inside her.
With her brother’s muttered curses and Andrea and Holly’s “Go get ’ems” ringing in her ears, Juliana made her way to the table in the corner