Bachelor Auction (14 page)

visions he’d had earlier of an unmade bed came

rolling back with an unwanted addition. Along with

red silk sheets and a ceiling mirror, he conjured

images of a satisfied lover still slumbering in the

heated aftermath of early morning sex.

He had almost forgotten about Sam in his

eagerness to see more of her home and hated to

entertain the possibility that while he had

fantasized about having his own sexual adventure

with Charlotte on the stairs, the man could still be

in her bed.

He backed up a step. “You’re right. I should

have realized.”

She swallowed, clearly uncomfortable now that

he understood. “It’s just that—”

“You don’t have to explain, but you could have

told me sooner that Sam was still here. I’d have

waited outside.” He turned to go.

“Marcus, wait.”

He stopped on the landing but couldn’t bring

himself to look at her. If he moved one inch in her

direction, he wasn’t certain he could restrain himself

from physically removing her from his path so he

could see who this Sam was. More than that, he

wanted to rip the guy to apart.

“Um, actually Sam’s asleep, and he’s really

grumpy if I wake him. But I don’t think I can carry

the largest suitcase down the stairs. Do you think if

I brought it to the edge the stairway, you could take

it to the car?”

He thought his jawbone would crack from the

pressure of holding back what he thought of that

idea. She could wake lover boy and have him fetch

and carry. But then, essentially, their relationship

was none of Marcus’s business, and to have a face to

go with the name would only drive him nuts later,

make his imaginings too vivid, real. “Sure, no

problem.”

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Marcus waited for her to leave before he sank to

the top step of the landing. It was crazy, this

compunction he felt to punish himself, as well as the

fierce need to pummel a man he didn’t know for

taking advantage of Charlotte’s promiscuity. He

refused to believe there was more to it than his

protective nature, or that a possessive streak—at

least

where she

was

concerned—lay buried

somewhere inside him.

“Are you two going to take all day?” Melody

asked from the bottom of the stairs. “You’ve got a

flight to catch.”

Spencer joined her. “Where’s the mountain of

luggage?”

Marcus couldn’t manage more than a shrug.

“I’ll go see what’s taking so long.” Melody

started to climb the steps, Spencer on her heels.

“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.”

She stopped in front of him. “Why not?”

He stared at the carpet between his feet, afraid

if Melody didn’t read the jumble of fiery emotion

boiling inside him, ready to erupt, his brother would.

“Sam’s still asleep.”

She brushed off his concern. “Sam’s always

asleep.”

“Big slug’s asleep every time I’m here. Lazy good

for nothing—hey, that hurt.” Spencer rubbed his

side where Melody poked him.

“Just because you don’t like Sam,” she said,

massaging his injured ribs in silent apology, “doesn’t

mean you have to be nasty. I think he’s adorable.”

Spencer’s obvious dislike of Sam should have

made Marcus feel better. Instead, his concern for

Charlotte grew. His brothers usually judged men

fairly, and if Spencer held a low opinion of Sam, he

had good reason. Melody might think she knew the

guy better, but she trusted far too easily and like

most women, could be swayed by a man’s charm.

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“Besides,” Melody added, smiling as she moved

to the step above Marcus, “you’d need your sleep too

if you stayed up all night.”

Marcus clenched his fists. “Look, she said she’d

bring her suitcases out when she’s ready.”

“Yes, but if I know Charlotte, she’s not finishing

packing.” She started up the stairs, adding over her

shoulder, “She’s curled up on the bed beside Sam,

scratching that hairy belly, trying to make up for

leaving him.”

Marcus lurched to his feet, his entire body

shaking with the violence her words produced. He

started down the steps. “I’ll be outside.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” Spencer said, catching his

arm. “I can’t carry all her shi—stuff by myself.”

Marcus jerked out of his brother’s grasp. “Then

get lover boy to help you.”

Spencer gave him a strange look. “Who?”

“Sam,” Marcus hissed, too angry now to care

what his brother made of his behavior. He pointed at

Melody as she entered Charlotte’s room. “Doesn’t it

bother you, Melody going in there?”

Amusement filled Spencer’s eyes and the corner

of his mouth quirked up. “Why should it?”

“Sam’s in Charlotte’s bed?”

“That’s nothing new.”

After all the times he and Chad had teased

Spencer about his hair-trigger jealousy over Melody,

Marcus couldn’t believe he would stand by while she

entered a room where another man lay possibly

wrapped in nothing but satin sheets. Yet Spencer

didn’t seem at all disturbed. Something wasn’t right.

Marcus ran his hand over the back of his neck.

“And you don’t care if Melody sees him?”

Spencer laughed. “Nah. I don’t like the big fella,

but he’s pretty harmless. Come on, let’s get this

show on the road.”

Suspicious and intrigued, Marcus followed.

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Entering Charlotte’s bedroom, he stopped in his

tracks and gaped at the scene before him. Charlotte

was nowhere in sight, but Melody sat on the bed

across the room, her fingers caressing the exposed

belly of an enormous, orange tabby.

“Marcus,” Spencer said with barely controlled

laughter. “Meet lover boy.”

Heat crawled slowly up Marcus’s neck and face.

He started to tell Spencer where to get off, but the

room’s decor gave him pause. He snapped his mouth

shut and took a closer look. What he saw surprised

and fascinated him beyond anything he could have

imagined when pondering Charlotte and her private

domain.

The furniture, definitely designer quality,

wasn’t what captured his attention. It was the

clutter. Knickknacks of every variety scattered

across almost every flat surface. Books were stacked

in the corners and beside the unmade bed. And the

bed, where he’d thought to see a satisfied lover and

not the furry feline stretched out on his back, was

small with frilly ruffles and flowery sheets. A

homemade quilt stuck out from under a giant black

suitcase and dangled off the end where several

stuffed bears lay discarded. Not at all what he’d

envisioned.

He shook his head as he considered the extreme

differences in this busy but cozy room as compared

to the lavish living area below. Yet another

contradiction in the woman he knew as Charlotte.

Though what it meant he hadn’t a clue and didn’t

have time to contemplate since she walked out the

connecting door he assumed was the bathroom.

She stopped, apparently startled to see the three

of them in her room. Or was it just his presence that

bothered her. Had she lied about the cat because she

didn’t want him here?

“We introduced Marcus to Sam,” Spencer said.

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“Did you?” Charlotte’s nervous green eyes

flickered over Marcus before she moved to the bed

and drew the sheet over several large books and a

stack of papers he hadn’t noticed before. Then she

placed a small bag into her suitcase and zipped it

closed. Were her hands trembling?

“Yep,” Spencer said. “And it’s funny, because I’m

almost positive he thought Sam was your—”

“Spence.” Marcus folded his arms across his

chest. “Why don’t you start loading Charlotte’s

luggage?”

His brother laughed again but refrained from

further comment and hefted the suitcase off the bed.

The cat sprang to his feet, back arched, teeth bared

as he hissed at Spencer for intruding on his nap.

“Damn fleabag,” Spencer muttered and headed

toward the door. “Come on, Mel. Three’s company,

five’s a crowd.”

Melody glanced from Marcus to Charlotte, as if

trying to figure out what she’d missed, then bounced

off the bed. “I’ll see you downstairs.”

Charlotte gathered the temperamental tabby in

her arms and stroked him as if he were the lover

Marcus had pictured her with all night. The thought

made him smile. He knew he should be angry. She’d

played him for a fool, purposely allowed him to

believe the worst of her again. She knew perfectly

well he had thought she planned to spend the night

before their trip in the arms of another man. Why

had she done that?

Hell. Why did Charlotte do anything?

At the moment he didn’t care. All he felt was

relieved.

Marcus walked slowly toward her, stopping

inches away. She looked up at him with defiant eyes

and lifted her chin, as if daring him to criticize her.

He cocked his head to one side, letting his smile

broaden. “So this is Sam, the reason you couldn’t

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have dinner with me last night?”

Her frown faded and a smug smile took its place.

“Sam takes precedence over certain things. Dinner

the night before I leave him for the weekend is one of

them.”

“You know what I thought.”

Her shoulder lifted and dropped, drawing his

attention, not for the first time this morning, to the

plunging neckline of her shape-hugging dress. The

ruffled collar with its drawstring effect ensured his

gaze lingered on the soft swells it showcased. The

fire that had simmered in his gut earlier flared hot

in his veins.

The flames jumped higher when Sam’s

whiskered nose intruded, rubbing against one peak.

Her long, slender fingers automatically moved from

where they stroked the lucky furball’s back to

scratch its chin. Massive front paws—devoid of

claws—began to knead the spot his nose had

nuzzled, and Marcus could swear the cat blinked at

him with a hint of triumph.

“The rest of my things are there,” she said,

pointing to a garment bag draped over the large

wingback chair and a smaller suitcase his mom

would call an overnight bag. She moved to wait by

the door, clearly anxious for him to leave.

Gathering the luggage, he motioned her

forward. “After you.”

She hesitated, then, carrying Sam with her,

hurried from the room. Marcus took one last look

around before following. If she’d had her way, he

might never have seen the place in which she

lowered her guard. Might never have seen a side of

Charlotte that thoroughly shook his fast and easy

image of her.

His steps grew lighter as he thought of the trip

ahead and wondered what else he would discover

about Charlotte Reese before the weekend was over.

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Charlotte clutched the arms of her aisle seat and

stared at the
Fasten Seatbelt
sign overhead as the

aircraft vibrated around her. She hated to fly. Had

always hated it. Fretted for days beforehand,

preparing for the inevitable. She understood that

her phobia boiled down to a fear of heights she’d had

since childhood. However, rationalization never

stopped the panic that seized her once she was more

than three feet off the ground.

Strangely enough, she hadn’t given this flight a

second thought and chalked it up to the last few

days’ events along with her failure to come up with a

plan to seduce Marcus. Sure, she could come on

strong during the sponsor promos when they were

forced together, but the photo shoots wouldn’t last

long enough to hook him, much less reel him in. And

they were far too public.

Besides, with his tendency to walk away when

pushed too far, he would hightail it the moment one

shoot ended. Likely, she wouldn’t have seen him

until the next one began.