Wild Ride: Lance and Tammy (25 page)

“Forty thousand.”

That, she heard.  Her head turned toward the left where she knew her table was, but it wasn’t Lance’s voice.  It was Doctor Anderson’s.  That was twice as much as Marianne’s bid.  Her face went red.  Suddenly she realized that Marianne got her up here to auction her off and get her away from Lance.  Her heart started thrumming in her ears. 

The place went completely quiet after that call.  She could hear whispers among the crowd, and she just wanted to crawl off the stage and hide.

“Forty five!” a voice from the right this time. 
What?

“Fifty!” countered Doctor Anderson.

Oh my God!

Over the next few minutes the numbers kept climbing.  More male voices joined the frenzy—except one. What was wrong with these people?

Then she heard a stretch of silence before the MC announced that the final bid was going once.  She would just cry.  It wasn’t from her table. It was near the back of the banquet room.  Oh, why did she have to challenge him?  Was he going to let her go to the highest bidder and not intervene?

Going twice…

“Two hundred and fifty thousand!”

She could have wept. Lance.

“Sold!”  It was as if the MC was waiting for that bid alone to end the sale.

Applause erupted.  People stood in their seats still clapping.

She covered her face in her hands and smiled.  She should have never lost faith.

Lance came up on stage then, and applause increased.

“For those of you that don’t know him, may I introduce one of your major benefactors,” the MC announced. “Retired ADA, Lance Hartley.”

More applause.

He approached her with his long confident stride. One of his hands was elegantly tucked into the pocket of his pants. There was a sudden barrage of flashes on top of the ear splitting noise of applause.  His expression was unreadable but there was amusement in his eyes. He bent and kissed her cheek. “Do you honestly think I’d let you go?”

She beamed at him. “I was getting worried.  I thought I might have pushed you too far earlier.”

“Tsk tsk darling.  Have faith.”

He moved his arm around her waist and led her off the stage.

“Well Tamara, you’re fiancé certainly knows how to put on a show,” Elizabeth said as they took their seats across from her. “Shame on you for putting her on display like that.” she further chastised Lance.

“I’d frame her and hang her on the wall if I could,” he answered casually. “She’d put my Renoir to shame.”

Her father laughed. “Lance, I’m so happy you are becoming part of my family.”

Marianne just gasped, then lifted her napkin to feign a slight cough.

Tammy couldn’t help but be impressed at the way Lance stood up to her mother, and it was done with finesse so she couldn’t possibly be insulted. She stared at her.  Now there was definite approval in her eyes as she watched Lance.  Yes, now she could see how prestigious Lance was, and rich obviously.  Oh, how she hoped that it was genuine just because she was her daughter and not because of who Lance was.

“Here! Here!” shouted the mayor raising his glass in a toast “Congratulations you two.”

“I’m reluctant to celebrate that, but it’s for a good cause,” the doctor said with a grin.

“Sore loser.” Lance murmured getting laughter from those within earshot.

“Hell yes!” he raised his glass again. “To a sore loser.”

“Here! Here!”

More laughter followed.

Despite her embarrassment over the auction, she couldn’t help but laugh.

What made it even better was that her parents seemed to be having the time of their lives too.  She’d never seen her mother smile so much.

***

The function ended at midnight, and Lance went to speak with Marianne before he joined her again and led her out to the car.  Marianne had left the table shortly after her father’s announcement over the engagement and went to sit with the man who’d bought her, after all, the men purchased the women for company for the remainder of the event. He was an older gentleman and she actually seemed quite at ease with him.  Well, she probably knew him.

“Where are we going?”  The car went in a different direction than his penthouse.

“Marianne’s.”

“Oh yes.” She’d forgotten.

He watched her for a moment before he spoke. “We don’t have to.”

“No, you told her we would be there.  We should show.  It looks like she worked really hard. Her speech was really great. You should be there to congratulate her.”

She smiled at her. “You have a big heart Tammy.”

She shrugged.  She still didn’t like the way the other woman insisted on hanging off him, but really, she did a phenomenal job.

“I’d rather take you home, peel off that dress and make love to you. But I do have commitments. It’s what I came here for.  My appointment book was full.”

She felt her own mouth pull into a smile. “Is that right?”

He nodded.  His eyes burned with desire.

“Well pencil me in Mr. Hartley. I’ll take you up on that other suggestion.”

“Already done.”  He bent his head and took her mouth.

God she could never get used to his mouth. It was so sinfully attractive. More so, because he knew how to use it.

“This dress is making me hard already.  I can see every sensual curve of that beautiful body.  No wonder you fetched such a high price.”

Her eyes widened.  How could he be so blunt?  Still, was it supposed to turn her on when he spoke like that? “High?  You’re the one that paid a quarter of a million.”

“I meant before that.”

“I thought maybe you put them up to it.”

He chuckled. “You would think so, wouldn’t you?  Tammy, you are beautiful.  I just wish you’d believe it. I didn’t have to coax anyone. You did that all on your own. Your innocent display of humility is what set off the bids—that genuine flush of the cheeks, your tantalizing expression of shyness.  All the other women put on a show. You were genuine. I was prepared to pay more.”

“More?” her mouth fell open.

He nodded.  “The way Anderson was bidding on you was making me want to knock a few of those bleached teeth out. Now, you know I’m not a violent man.” Hi expression was poignant.

She laughed. Lance was far from it.  His brother Colton was a handful as was Jacob in his younger years, but Lance was the peacemaker.

“What color of panties are you wearing?” he asked huskily.

Wow, that was out of the blue. She looked him directly in the eyes.  A slow sensual smile spread across her face. She slowly crossed her legs.  The move was deliberate. The split in the dress exposed her upper thigh. She wasn’t wearing any.

He watched the action and realization dawned in his expression. “Oh Christ. This is going to be the longest night of my life.  You never cease to amaze me.  You are either full of humility or sass.”

“Is that good?”

“Good? Baby, it’s bewitching.  I never know what to expect. And once you show that seductive side, I could fucking die.”

She felt her face heat up as she blushed. It was a very profound statement and he meant it. Those were the words she was hoping for, well not what she exactly expected, but it was better.  When he cursed like that, it seemed to make it more intense and not the least bit offensive.  It was—wickedly sexy.  

Besides being drop-dead gorgeous, she’d always known him as a very poised and stoic man which painted an aura of mystery around him.  This side of him was even more attractive and she honestly thought she couldn’t find him more fascinating than he already was.

From their first time together she worried because she didn’t want him to become bored with her and that made her a little more daring.  She actually felt thrilled to be panty-less.  It was a last minute choice to leave her panties in her suitcase.  She just was a little shy on trying to bring up the subject and let him know.  Thankfully he did it for her.  The look of desire on his handsome face was worth it.

***

Marianne’s apartment was about the size of her parents, so it was fairly large, and very tastefully decorated.  There were about a fifty people there, probably the biggest contributors to the charity.  She instantly made a beeline to them through the crowd when she spotted Lance.  He politely kissed her cheek in greeting.

“I’m so glad you could come too, Tamara,” she said sweetly. “Please come in.  Make yourself at home.”

Lance flicked her an amused glance.

Yes
Tamara
again.  “Call me Tammy, please.”
Please!

“Of course. Come in and make yourself at home.”

Tammy noticed that she was drinking a glass of wine and it was half empty.  She wondered if it was her first.  From the way she was touching Lance, even though she now knew he was engaged, she doubted it.  She’d also seen her consume a few glasses at the charity event.  She was doing her best not to get irritated with the woman after all, she’d worked very hard for the banquet and it was amazing. She’d allow her a few moments basking in the glow of Lance before she got angry. He currently had a hold of her hand and she felt him squeeze it in reassurance.  She could have kissed him herself.  He wasn’t even looking at her but was aware of Marianne’s advances and how that would make her feel. 

Marianne looped her arm through Lance’s despite his grip on Tammy’s and dragged him into the room introducing him to people he didn’t know. 

Tammy just bit her tongue because she neglected to introduce her even though Lance was still holding her hand.  Thankfully Lance didn’t.  She managed to pluck a glass of wine off a passing serving tray and downed in several gulps.

That got a warning look from him.

She just raised her brows.

“Behave,” he murmured.

“Let her go,” she countered sweetly.

A slow smile spread across his face. “Patience darling.  I’ll show you who I belong to later, but if you’re going to get shit-faced, you’ll be useless to me.”

God, he could arouse her so quickly.  She quickly set the wine glass down and that got her a chuckle.

It was that promise that made her mood lift.  She pretended Marianne’s possessiveness didn’t bother her at all, and actually the night wasn’t so bad. 

Also, she found out that the man who purchased Marianne was her father, and currently the police commissioner.  She felt like an ass thinking he was something else.  That’s where assumptions got her, nowhere.   She really wasn’t that bad and might have actually been good friends if it wasn’t for Lance.  She was just under his spell and it probably made her act out of character.  Truly, everything the woman had done for the charity was top notch and would have taken a lot of dedication.

What had made the rest of the night more enjoyable was her artsy friends.  They were interesting and fun.  One was a fashion designer and very openly gay.  She liked him immediately.

Somehow Marianne’s vicelike grip managed to dislodge Lance from her.  Tammy relented with Lance’s promise burned in her mind. He would, after all, be going home with her tonight, not Marianne. She resolved to leaning against a wall watching him when she was joined by the fashion designer.

“Yours?”

She looked up at him and he nodded toward Lance.  She bit her lip and watched Marianne do her best to occupy every moment of his time so he couldn’t escape.  He kept giving her glances of reassurance. It was sweet. “I think so.”

He chuckled. “Damn, I’m disappointed.  I was hoping he was gay. He’s gorgeous enough to be.”

She laughed, “I’m Tammy Easler.”

“Eli Parker,” he spoke but his eyes didn’t leave Lance.

He wore a sequined blue suit jacket and black pants.  It actually suited him. “I make a ridiculous amount of money designing clothes for the filthy rich,” he added with amusement while scanning the crowd.

She laughed. “I’m a nurse.  Plain and simple. I make enough money to pay my bills.”

That got his attention. “A nurse?

“Yes.”

“Wow. I’m surprised. Marianne can be such a snob.”

“I don’t think she wanted me here, but I came with Lance.”

“The gorgeous piece of masculine heaven?”

She giggled and nodded.  A perfect way to describe him.

“Lucky girl.  Now I know why he paid so much for you.”

“You were at the auction?”

He nodded. “Darling, I designed half the dresses there.  Including our hostess’s”

“I think it’s beautiful.”

He watched her for a moment. “Don’t worry about her.  I saw how he looks at you.”

“Thanks Eli.  That helps.”

“Marianne just wants something she can’t have.”

“She seems nice.”

“She can be.  I’m her friend, and I have no problem telling her to behave.”  He lifted his hand and waved another man over. “I’m going to introduce you to one of New York’s upcoming modern painters. His name is Ambrose Oglethorp and he’s adopted this weird Andy Warhol attitude, so bear with him.”