âAnother one bites the dust,â Holly Prescott grumbled as she watched the second of her two best friends sashay out of the Caliber Club with a newly purchased bachelor by her side.
If you had any sense at all youâd sneak out right behind them. Instead she was stuck here in hooker-high heels and a dress that ought to be illegalâon her, anywayâfulfilling her part of the ridiculous pact she, Andrea and Juliana had made.
How had she let herself be bamboozled into this disastrous plan? Buying men, for crying out loud! She could think of at least a dozen more useful things sheâd rather have for her upcoming thirtieth birthday.
So what if she hadnât had sex in so long sheâd forgotten how it went exactly? Sheâd hold on to her born-again virgin status until sheâd nixed her tendency to choose men who needed fixing because she couldnât afford any more strays of the two-legged variety. The last one had cost her a bundle and put her hard-won independence in jeopardy. Not that she intended admitting her gullibility to anyone. Too humiliating.
A blast of chilly air from the overhead vent made her curse her clothing for the umpteenth time this evening. Where had her brain been vacationing when sheâd allowed her friends to pour her into a dress that looked more like underwear than outerwear? If she had so much as a mosquito biteâor pantiesâbeneath the form-fitting bronze silk, every one would know it.
Crossing her arms over her breasts, Holly scanned the ballroom filled with well-heeled guests. She didnât belong here. Never mind that her father owned the place. She didnât fit in. Story of her life.
âSee if I ever trust Andrea or Juliana again,â she groused without worrying about being overheard by the women swarming the marble floor. The auction attendees had two hoursâ worth of free champagne in them, and the normally dignified ladies were too busy screaming their lungs out like rock band groupies to pay any attention to a misfit like her.
On a positive note, their lack of inhibitions could work to her advantage once the bidding on her bachelor began. âTwenty more minutes and I can go home.â
âTalking to yourself?â The rich baritone behind her made her cringe. Eric Alden, her best friendâs brother, had already read them the riot act once tonight about this foolhardy plan. As far as Holly was concerned, he was preaching to the choir. She didnât need to hear another sermon. But sheâd promised to give bachelor bidding the old college try.
Now that her friends had abandoned her, Eric would focus all his cutting wit on her. Might as well cork him before he got started. She turned, but her retort stuck in her throat. Wow. How could she have forgotten how good he looked in a tux? His banker-short dark hair looked freshly trimmed and his strong jaw gleamed from a recent shave.
Holly scrambled to rally her brain cells. âIâm cursing your sister. The dress she and my other so-called friend chose for me is indecent.â
Ericâs navy blue gaze raked over her, and Holly mentally kicked herself for drawing his attention to her attireâor lack thereof. Before tonight, she didnât think Eric had ever seen her in a dressâcertainly not one like this. The nostrils of his straight nose flared, and then he slowly, deliberately circled her, appraising her as if she were the one going on the auction block instead of him.
Holly straightened, tucked her tush, sucked in her stomach and prayed he wouldnât guess she was completely naked beneath the dress except for the blush coating her skin.
He halted in front of her with only inches separating them, crowding into her personal space. âDefinitely indecent. Indecently beautiful.â
The husky timbre of his voice combined with his proximity made her heart beat a quick rat-a-tat-tat and sent a weird frisson down her spine. Hold it. This is Julianaâs brother. Julianaâs rule-following, workaholic, socially prominent brother. That triple no-no-absolutely-no whammy made tingles of any kind taboo. Holly tried to back up, but the tipsy socialites behind her blocked her path.
âYou look lovely, Holly. I almost didnât recognize you without your baseball cap and work boots.â
So much for his ego-boosting flattery. Could she help it if her job required protective clothing? âYou donât look too skanky yourself, Alden, but then Armani probably helped design your birthday suit, so itâs no surprise you look decent in a tux.â
Ericâs smile seemed a little forced. âIf that was a compliment, thank you. May I speak with you a moment?â
She glanced left and then right and found women ogling him on either side. They might ignore her, but they didnât ignore the heir to a banking empire. In fact, they looked as though theyâd enjoy nibbling hors dâoeuvres off Ericâs naked body. âMe? Sure.â