Bachelor Auction (11 page)

provocative, yet there she stood, a vision of refined

loveliness in black wool slacks and a red cashmere

sweater with pearl buttons done up to her throat.

She wore her long silvery-blonde hair swept into

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some kind of twist, held in place with a clip made of

pearls that matched the ones on her ears. Damn,

even dressed in sophisticated elegance she exuded a

sensual air.

“Close your mouth, Marcus.”

Melody’s whisper behind him came just in time

to save him from total embarrassment. Still, he

couldn’t pry his gaze from Charlotte and her escorts.

“What are you doing here today?” one of the

older girls asked Charlotte as they drew near.

Today?
Marcus frowned, still trying to figure out

how these kids knew her.

She smiled and took the girl’s hand. “I’m here

for the promotion, Sarah. Just like you guys.” Her

soft voice held only a hint of her usual sultry drawl

and none of the sarcasm.

“Are you going to read us a story?” asked a

freckled face boy with bandages on both hands.

A story?
Marcus figured the only stories

Charlotte knew were the dirty limericks he’d heard

her recite at one of Chad’s frat parties.

She reached to ruffle the boy’s hair. “Oh, baby,

I’m sorry. I didn’t bring a book today.”

Amy tugged on Charlotte’s sweater. “I want you

to meet somebody.”

Charlotte let go of Sarah’s hand and stooped to

lift Amy in her arms, kissing her on the rosy cheek

untouched by scars. “Sure, sweetie. Who is it?”

Amy’s gaze landed on Marcus as she pointed a

stubby finger toward him. “He’s my new friend.”

Marcus waited for Charlotte’s cutting remark

and was surprised when she said, “Then you’re a

lucky girl. Marcus is a good friend to have.”

“You know him?” Sarah asked, eyeing him a bit

more favorably than she had when he first entered

the room. It seemed their goddess held a lot of sway

over whom they accepted and didn’t. He probably

ought to feel honored that she deigned to grant him

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approval. Funny thing was, he did.

Charlotte turned her attention to Sarah.

“Mmmhmm. We’re here to have our picture made

together.”

“Not everyone’s here, Char,” Melody said behind

him. “You’ve got time for a story.”

Charlotte’s smooth composure was at odds with

the blush that crept up her neck and cheeks. “Oh,

I’m sure whoever’s late will be here shortly.”

The little boy who wanted her to read pounced

on the opportunity, determined to have his way.

“Please, Charlotte, tell us a story, please.”

The group erupted into loud pleas, and when

Charlotte’s flustered gaze met his, Marcus added his

own. “Yes, Charlotte, tell us a story. Please.”

She lifted a finely arched brow, and her full red

lips thinned into a smirk that said she’d pay him

back in spades. “All right, let’s get settled.”

He chuckled at the squeals of delight and turned

to leave the little pagans to their goddess of

storytelling.

“Not so fast buster.” Melody grabbed his arm. “I

need help putting gifts around the tree and hanging

ornaments.”

Marcus started to tell her she hadn’t yet gained

his forgiveness when a small hand slipped into his.

“Don’t go.”

Amy’s little voice reached up to seize his heart

and there was no way in the world he could have

walked away from those huge needful blue eyes.

Again he had to swallow the rise of emotion in his

throat. “No, darlin’, I won’t leave. I’ll be right here,

helping Melody.”

She smiled a crooked smile, all that the scarred

half of her face would allow, before returning to the

group gathered on the floor not six feet away. She

tiptoed her way over the others and crawled into

Charlotte’s lap.

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Charlotte wrapped her arms around the little

girl and lifted a misty gaze to his. Then she cleared

her throat and smiled at the children. “So how about

Jack and the Beanstalk
?”

Amy squirmed in her lap to look up at her. “No,

tell the one about
Beauty and the Beast
.”

“Sweetie, that one’s kind of long.”

“That’s okay,” Sarah said. “I know it by heart.

What you don’t get to I’ll finish later.”

Charlotte bit her lip, and Marcus wondered at

her obvious reluctance to tell this particular tale.

“Very well,” Charlotte glared past him at Melody

then softened her expression. “
Beauty and the Beast

it is.”

“Are you going to stand there all day?”

He turned back to Melody, who, by the smug

expression on her face, had no doubt noticed him

held spellbound by the entire scene. She thrust an

ornament at him. “Here, make yourself useful. I

can’t reach the top.”

He took the ornament, a clear glass globe with

shredded strips of silver and gold stuffed inside and

the name “Sarah Talbert” written on the outside. He

stretched to place the glittering ball near the top of

the tree then paused to look at it. Would Sarah

spend the holidays at the hospital or at home with

her family? He hated the idea of any of these

children here and alone at Christmas.

“Once long ago,” Charlotte began her story.

“There was a handsome prince who was very spoiled

and self-centered. His name was...Phillip. One—”

“No, no, Charlotte,” Amy chirped. “His name

wasn’t Phillip.”

“I-it wasn’t?”

“It never has been before. The prince’s name has

always been Marcocius, kind of like Marcus.”

Marcus jerked his head around and caught

Charlotte’s jittery gaze. She smiled nervously. “Isn’t

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that amazing?”

“Here.” Melody handed him another ornament.

“Get busy. You’re much too slow.”

Recognizing her attempt to keep him occupied,

Marcus stifled his suspicions and took the ornament.

He read the name, not one he could put to a face but

one who no doubt had his own story.

“One day an ugly witch came to the castle,

begging for food and a place to stay for the night.”

“And her name was Charliss,” Amy inserted.

Marcus paused in mid stretch. He tilted a look

over his shoulder, but this time Charlotte refused to

glance his way.

“When the prince selfishly refused to let the

witch—”

“Charliss.”

“—stay in his castle,” she paused, and with a

pained expression, continued, “Charliss...put a curse

on him.”

She had his full attention now.

“She turned him into a horrible beast, saying

that since he was so ugly on the inside, everyone

would see his true nature until he learned to be kind

and considerate to others. After everyone ran from

him, frightened by his beastly appearance and

ferocious roar,” she snarled and growled, “the witch

transformed into a beautiful lady.”

“To show him what she was on the inside,”

Sarah supplied. “Then she left him, and he was all

alone for a long time.”

Melody poked him in the ribs. “Are you going to

help me or what?”

He realized he was scowling and tried to smooth

his features, afraid the similarities between himself

and Charlotte’s prince would suddenly dawn on the

kids. He didn’t think he could bear for little Amy to

look at him as if he were a beast.

“It’s just a story, Marcus,” Melody said. “The

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kids like it because it helps them focus on what’s

inside them instead of worrying about their outward

appearance.”

He grunted. “I suppose Charlotte supplied the

names.”

Melody smiled, giving him his answer.

He rubbed a hand over his jaw then through his

hair as if he’d suddenly grown a shaggy beard and

mane. “Do I really act like a beast?”

“When I first met you, I thought you were a

teddy bear...”

“But?”

“Well, to be honest, the last few months, since

the party at the mayor’s house, you’ve been a real

grouch. That’s why—”

“Don’t go there, Mel,” he warned. “I haven’t

forgiven you for your part in all this.”

She sighed then shrugged and turned back to

the tree. “You will when you finally get your head

out of your ass and see the truth. You might have

been the prince in that story, but Charlotte

designated herself as the witch.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” When she only

shrugged again, he pressed for an answer. “Are you

telling me Charlotte isn’t what she seems?”

Not that it was the first time he wondered if

he’d been right all those years ago when he first met

Charlotte at one of Chad’s frat parties. He’d watched

her all night and had seen her mask slip when she

thought no one was looking. She had seemed almost

tired, as if it took every ounce of energy to keep up

the façade. He’d been certain there was more to her

than she allowed everyone to see, more than the

flamboyant personality and outrageous clothing.

That beneath her flirtatious manner and sultry

smile lay a frightened and vulnerable soul.

In the next moment he knew he’d been mistaken

when she began to dance on the coffee table, drawing

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the attention of every male in the room as she

writhed to the music in the skimpiest dress he’d ever

seen. He’d written his assumption off as a trick of

the lights.

“If you really want to know,” Melody said.

“You’ll use your time together to figure it out.”

She left him to ponder that bit of advice, and

Marcus wanted to growl like the beast he’d been

compared to as he turned to hang the rest of the

ornaments. He should have known he wouldn’t get a

straight answer from Charlotte’s best friend and

loyal protector.

He slanted a look at the woman who had become

an enigma to him. Sitting on the floor amongst

children the other high society women in the room

hadn’t known how to deal with, she appeared the

epitome of a true and compassionate lady. Exactly

the kind of woman he had always intended to choose

as a wife.

Yet, not for one moment did he believe she had

changed just because she hid her feelings from the

children. Her praise of him to Amy hadn’t been real.

Nor did he think she’d forgiven him for the things

he’d said to her the night of the auction. He winced,

remembering some of them. While he
had

apologized, hell, he hadn’t meant it. Only at Mitch’s

insistence had Marcus realized she too had been

deceived and was paying the consequences and that

his manners bordered on atrocious.

Still, if Melody’s implication and his own gut

instinct could be counted on, then the things he had

learned about Charlotte today might be worth

exploring. Of course, he had his work cut out for

him. It would take some digging. But he intended to

peel away her exterior layers one by one, stripping

her bare if need be, until certain he had completely

exposed the woman beneath, leaving her nothing to

hide behind.

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Marcus caught himself smiling and wondered

what the hell he had to be so happy about. He could

only accomplish the task
if
he could get past her

anger over the way he’d treated her. And
if
he could

control his libido when she reverted to her usual

relentless aggression and her naturally sensual

behavior.

He groaned at the prospect of going up against

Charlotte again. It was the hardest thing he’d ever

done; he almost hadn’t survived. But by God, he had,

and he’d proven he could be selfless. Hell, he

deserved a damned medal for his sacrifice in the

garden. If he could do that, he could manage

anything. He could resist temptation—heaven help

him—and show her once and for all she didn’t have

to flaunt her charms to gain a man’s attention, that

she had more to offer than her body.

And if only for the sake of his injured pride, he

would prove to Charliss that Marcocious wasn’t so