Talking Dirty With the Boss(28)

Dammit.

The MC called for bids.

Christie put her hand up to start it off, bidding fifty bucks. A few other people raised their hands while the MC continued to talk about the package Luke was offering. While Luke himself kept his gaze firmly on her.

Tiny sparks prickled over Marisa’s skin. Freaking wonderful. So her body hadn’t learned from its mistake.

She dragged her gaze away from his, taking another reflexive gulp of her water to ease her dry throat.

Across from her, at another table, a woman put her hand up. Marisa recognized her as a well-known kids’ show presenter. The woman had an avid expression on her face as she stared at Luke, as though she’d seen the dress she’d been lusting after for months suddenly on sale for half price.

An uncomfortable sensation twisted in the pit of Marisa’s stomach. A sensation that only got worse when the stupid woman kept raising her hand, bidding on Luke again and again.

Beside her, Christie muttered, “I bet it’s not just Luke’s financial package she’s after.”

Gee, thanks for that, St. John. So what I need to hear right now.

Marisa bit down on the words before they escaped and incriminated her. She’d promised Luke she wouldn’t tell anyone and she hadn’t. Besides, if she didn’t talk about it, maybe it didn’t happen, right?

The woman across from her put her hand up yet again. The skank.

Marisa narrowed her gaze at her, the uncomfortable sensation twisting and turning. What if the woman won? What if it wasn’t only financial advice she wanted? What if she found Luke as sexy as Marisa did? What if Luke fancied her, too? Which of course he would since he apparently didn’t go for more than two weeks without a woman and it had been weeks since the supply-room incident. If so, would he lose control and take her up against a door as well? And get her pregnant?

No freaking way.

Marisa put her hand up, ignoring Christie’s squeak and Jude’s shocked gasp. Up on stage, Luke’s steely gaze narrowed. The MC said something but Marisa barely heard. Across from her the kids’ show presenter frowned and put in another bid.

Marisa kept her hand up. No, that woman wasn’t going to get her sticky mitts on Luke. Not if she had anything to do with it. She was carrying his baby, for God’s sake.

Yet somehow the stupid presenter woman didn’t seem to be picking up on Marisa’s “don’t go there, girl” vibes. She kept on bidding, which meant Marisa kept having to bid over the top of her. The MC made several idiot comments about women fighting over a man that made Marisa want to spit.

But she was going to win this thing if it killed her.

“Uh, Mar? Do you have that kind of money?” Christie asked at one stage.

“Yeah, sure,” she replied, not really taking in what her friend was saying. Because the truth of the matter was that she’d kind of lost track of the bids. Even that this whole auction thing meant shelling out money. Money that she didn’t have. Which made it vitally important she win Luke.

In fact it wasn’t until the MC banged his gavel and pointed at her and said, “Sold!” that she realized. When he announced the winning amount, she was grateful she was already sitting down.

So not only had she blown her entire savings, she’d blown all her earnings for the next six months, too. Spent money she did not have on a man she did not want, purely because she was jealous. And pregnant. And obviously crazy-pants.

“Mar,” Christie was saying urgently. “Do you know what you just did?”

But Marisa barely heard her. Up on stage Luke shot her a glance loaded with anger and something else she couldn’t define. Then he turned and strode off the stage, a thunderous expression on his face.

Oh God, this was mad. What had she done?

“I totally didn’t mean to do that,” she said faintly to everyone within hearing distance.

Christie caught at her arm but Marisa was suddenly filled with the urgent need to get out. Go find Luke and tell him it was all a terrible mistake. That she’d been in shock the whole evening after peeing on that wretched stick and—

Marisa pushed her chair back abruptly.

“Hey, where are you going?” Christie’s voice was filled with concern.

“The ladies’,” Marisa muttered. “I won’t be a sec.”

The faces at the tables passed in a blur as she walked toward the exit. Behind her, music was playing and the MC announced Caleb.

Marisa kept walking. She had to find Luke. She had to tell him she hadn’t meant to bid on him and didn’t have the money to pay for him.

Then she’d have to tell him about the baby.

Nausea churned in her gut, but she pushed it down.

In the corridor outside the theater, she asked a staff member for directions backstage and he, recognizing her as an auction winner, guided her down another few corridors to the greenroom.