Sugar Daddy(104)

"My God, you're stunning," said one of the Texas mafia, a dark-haired young woman named Sydney. She was a director. It was said in a tone of observation rather than compliment, her gaze frankly assessing. "You'd look amazing on film—wouldn't she. guys?—you've got one of those transparent faces."

"Transparent?" I held my hands up to my cheeks reflexively.

"Shows everything you're thinking," Sydney said.

Now my face was flaming. "God. I don't want to be transparent."

Gage was laughing quietly, sliding his arm around the back of my chair. "It's okay," he told me. "You're perfect the way you are." He leveled a narrow glance at Sydney. "If I ever catch you trying to put her in front of a camera—"

"Okay, okay," Sydney protested. "No need to get rabid, Gage." She grinned at me. "I guess you two are in pretty deep, huh? I've known Gage since the third grade, and I've never seen him so—"

"Syd." he interrupted, his gaze promising death. Her grin only widened.

Jack's girlfriend, a bubbly blonde named Heidi, steered the conversation in a new direction. "Jaa-aack," she said with a playful pout. "You said you'd buy me something from the silent auction, and I haven't gotten to look at the tables yet." She glanced at me significantly. "They say there's some cool stuff up for bidding... a pair of diamond earrings, a week in St. Tropez..."

"Shit," Jack said with a good-natured grin. "Whatever she picks out is going to put one hell of a dent in my wallet."

"Don't I deserve a nice present?" Heidi asked, and tugged him up from the table without waiting for an answer.

Gage, who had stood politely when Heidi rose from her chair, saw that I had finished

my dessert. "Come on, sweetheart," he told me. "We might as well go look too."

We excused ourselves from the table and followed Jack and Heidi into the mansion. One of the main rooms had been set up for the silent auction, rows of long tables littered with booklets, baskets, and item descriptions. Fascinated, I browsed along the first table. For each numbered item there was a leather folder with a bid list inside. You wrote down your name and the amount of your bid, and if someone wanted to top you, they added their name and a higher number underneath yours. At twelve o'clock, all bidding would be closed.

There was a certificate for a private cooking class given by a famous TV chef...a golf lesson from a pro who had once won the masters...a rare wine collection...a personal song written and recorded for you by a British rock star.

"What looks good?" came Gage's voice over my shoulder, and I had to fight the urge to lean back against him and pull his hands up to my breasts. Right there, in a room full of people.

"Damn." I rested my fingertips lightly on the table, closing my eyes for a second.

"What is it?"

"I'll be glad when we get through this stage and I can think straight again."

He stayed right behind me. sounding amused. "Stage of what?"

My nerves sizzled as I felt his hand settle at my side. "There are five stages of dating." I told him. "The first is attraction.. .you know, the chemistry and the sort of h-hormonal high when you're together. The next stage is exclusivity. And then you settle into reality, when

the physical attraction dies down..."

His hand moved to the highest curve of my hip. "And you think this"—a subtle stroke that sent my nerves jumping—"is going to die down?"

"Well," I said weakly, "it's supposed to."

"You let me know when we get to the reality stage." His voice was dark velvet. "I'll see what I can do to get your hormonal high going again." He finished the caress with a proprietary pat on my hip. "In the meantime...would you mind if I left you just for a few minutes?"

I turned to face him. "Of course not. Why?"

Gage looked apologetic. "I've got to say a quick hello to a friend of the family—I saw him in the other room. I went to high school with his son. who died not long ago in a boating accident."

"Oh, that's so sad. Yes, I'll stay here and wait for you."

"While you're at it, pick out something."

"What kind of something?"

"I don't care. A trip. A painting. Whatever looks good. Anyone who doesn't participate in the auction will get raked over the coals in the paper tomorrow for not giving a crap about the fine arts. It's up to you to save me."

"Gage. I'm not going to be responsible for spending all that money on...Gage, are you listening to me?"

"Nope." He smiled and began to walk away.

I looked down at the brochure nearest me. "We're going to Nigeria." I threatened. "I hope you like elephant polo."