Beauty and the Bachelor(4)

Lucas waited, bracing himself for any signs of recognition in the man's  face. But aside from the polite smile, he didn't catch a flicker of  acknowledgment from Jason. Then again, why should he recognize Lucas?  The last time they'd encountered one another, Lucas had been a  devastated, angry fifteen-year-old, and his last name had been Ellison.  The son of Robert Ellison, Jason's former best friend and business  partner, and the man he'd stepped on as carelessly as a pile of shit.  Correction-Jason would've at least paused and wiped shit from the sole  of his Italian loafer. He hadn't afforded Lucas's father the same  courtesy.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you face-to-face. I've heard so much  about Bay Bridge Industries, all of it impressive," Jason boomed.

Giving the thieving bastard a nod and murmur of thanks that he nearly  choked on, Lucas turned to the quiet woman he'd tricked into buying him.

"Since you've purchased me"-he flashed her a quick, disarming grin-"I  figured I'd better get over here and introduce myself before you  demanded a refund. Lucas Oliver."

"Nice to meet you," Sydney said, and the slight huskiness reminded him  of a voice gone hoarse after hours of crying out in pleasure in the  hottest, deepest part of night. His gut clenched in reaction. "Sydney  Blake."         

     



 

"I'm a little embarrassed, Mr. Oliver," Jason interrupted, stepping  closer to his daughter. Too little, too late, but smart man. "I'd like  to apologize on behalf of my daughter. I'm afraid there's been a  misunderstanding-"

Lucas arched an eyebrow. "Really? I clearly remember Ms. Blake bidding on me. What is the confusion?"

Jason rolled his lips into a flat line, but Lucas read the unease in the  gesture. Good. "Mr. Oliver, Sydney is engaged to Mr. Reinhold." He  gestured behind him toward Tyler, who stood silent, his arms crossed.  "He-"

"Congratulations," Lucas interjected smoothly.

Jason blinked, momentarily taken aback. "Well, yes, thank you. But you can see our dilemma."

Lucas cocked his head. "No, I can't."

The other man exhaled a hard, frustrated breath. "Somehow, she bid on  the wrong man. My daughter believed you were her fiancé," he gritted out  from between clenched teeth.

Now it was Lucas's turn to frown, but on the inside he delighted in  Jason's discomfiture and irritation. It won't be the last time you  squirm for me, old man.

"Of course with all of us being masked, you had to realize there was the  chance this could happen?" Lucas paused, allowing a beat to pass  between them, waiting to see if Jason would admit to knowing Tyler had  been assigned a certain number. Or so they'd believed.

Jason didn't confess, but his angry silence spoke volumes. Shouted it. "Yes, we were aware-"

"Good," Lucas stated flatly. "Because when I agreed to participate in  the auction, I made a commitment. One I intend to honor. And I'm sure  the person who, in good faith, bid on Tyler expects him to do the same."  Lucas turned to Sydney. "Ms. Blake, I'd like to discuss the arrangement  with you about our evening." He held out his arm, and after a brief  hesitation, she slid hers through his. "If you'll excuse us."

Not permitting Jason or Tyler an opportunity to object, he escorted her  across the room. As they passed a waiter bearing a tray of champagne  glasses, he collected two and pressed one into Sydney's free hand.

"I think you're going to need it by the time you return to your family,"  he said dryly, drawing a chair free of an empty table. Sydney didn't  reply as she lowered to the seat, but she did sip from the flute. And  the rim of the glass couldn't conceal the small smile curling her lips.  Why the sight of that faint curve on her mouth warmed him, he couldn't  explain. Maybe it was realizing her parents hadn't crushed the humor and  life out of her yet. Lucas sat across from her.

"I'm sorry you had to walk into that, Mr. Oliver," she murmured. "My father means well, he just-"

"Doesn't want his daughter spending an evening with a stranger. More so  when that daughter is engaged. He loves you. I understand." Not that he  believed that bullshit for a second. Lucas grasped the reasons behind  Jason's very vocal and enthusiastic support of his daughter's marriage  to Tyler-or rather Tyler's family-even if Sydney didn't. Money, power,  solidifying financial empires. Sydney's feelings or happiness probably  hadn't been topping the list when her father considered the match. But  familial love tended to blind a person to their loved one's true  natures. "And it's Lucas."

Something dark flickered in her stare before her lashes lowered, preventing him from deciphering the flash of emotion. "Yes."

Nothing more. Just that simple, yet stark, yes. Again, the same surge of  protectiveness reared its confusing head, the one that had driven him  from the stage to join her in the stand against her family. He snuffed  out the weak emotion before it had time to take root.

"What do you want, Sydney?" He dropped his voice, leaned forward. She  blinked, almost as if surprised. As if not many people asked her that  question. "I understand why your father objects, and honestly, I don't  give a damn. But if you'd prefer not to go with me tomorrow night, then  I'll accept your decision. From you. For you."

Not that he would accept a no. He'd come this far, was this close to  seeing his plans coming to fruition, and he wouldn't allow her  reluctance to stand in his way. But he sensed pressuring her wouldn't  help him obtain his goal. Not after witnessing the interaction between  her and her family. No, he had to take a soft approach with her, gain  even a small amount of her trust. Rescuing her from the overbearing  presence of her parents and Tyler had been the first step. Letting her  think she had an option was another.         

     



 

"I-" Her gaze shifted to somewhere over his shoulder, a tiny frown creasing her forehead.

"Look at me," he quietly ordered. With a soft gasp and almost  imperceptible jerk of her head, she returned her regard to him. "It's  your choice. Your desire. No one else's. I want to spend the evening  with you, enjoying a Broadway play and getting to know you over dinner.  I'd like you to want it, too. Yes or no, Sydney."

She stared at him, and for a moment, he wondered if he'd pushed too  hard. Sydney was an unnerving dichotomy of vulnerability and strength,  of sensuality and reserve. Even as she steadily met his eyes with barely  there hints of uncertainty flashing in hers, he had no clue what she  would decide.

His breath snagged in his throat as he waited for her reply. And he  convinced himself it was because his plan hinged on the answer … not  because he wanted her to want to spend time with him.

Fuck, he sounded like a girl. Next he would be writing notes asking her out and to check yes, no, or maybe.

"Yes or no, Sydney," he repeated, the need for her answer hardening his tone.

A beat of taut silence.

"Yes."





Chapter Four


"What the hell are you doing?" Sydney whispered to her reflection in the  full-length cheval mirror the following evening. She smoothed slightly  trembling hands over the waist and beaded belt of the floor-length black  evening dress. After discarding five gowns, she'd settled on this one.  The long sleeves and length were ideal for the October evening and an  air-conditioned theater, while the beaded embellishments along the deep  keyhole neckline prevented the dress from veering into Morticia  territory. It said, yes, I am on this date, but, no, I am not up for a  one-night stand … or a visit to the morgue.

Perfect.

Except for the nerves that ambushed her stomach.

She groaned, turning from her image before she found something else  wrong-the color was drab, the material too formfitting, her hips looked  too big, her ass was huge-and changed once more.

This was crazy. Had to be the most nonsensical thing she'd done in fourteen years. Again, what the hell was she thinking?

That's just it. She wasn't-she wasn't thinking.

For once, the opinions of her father, mother, Tyler, or others in their  exclusive social circle didn't overshadow her own wants. For once, she  wasn't censoring her own actions by someone else's guidelines and  desires.

For once, she was doing what she wanted and to hell with the consequences.

Her belly twisted, belying the brave words marching through her head.

This was so not like her.

Even now, the fear of disappointing her parents and fiancé crept up her  throat, threatening to strangle the breath from her lungs.

Don't. Hyperventilate.

Twenty-five years old and terrified of letting down her parents.

How pathetic would that sound to someone like Lucas Oliver, who didn't  appear to be afraid of anyone or anything? She shivered as an image of  the gorgeous, faintly intimidating business mogul filled her head. The  tall, hard body he'd aligned next to hers as he faced down her parents  and Tyler. The big, callused hands that had clasped her own. The  midnight waves and loose curls that grazed his sharp cheekbones and  granite jaw. The startling beauty of turquoise eyes that had bored into  hers as he quietly, but firmly, ordered her to look at him.