if it meant he could expand his prenatal surgery options.
‘Do I have two hundred dollars?’
An excited murmur ran through the crowd as people considered their options. Then, from towards the back a very hesitant, ‘Fifty,’ could be heard.
Cade clutched his chest and feigned his very best insulted look. ‘Ma’am, you wound me,’ he said, his voice easily projecting to the rear of the room.
The crowd laughed as the emcee cooed, ‘Oh, and he’s an American, ladies. How very exotic.’
‘Two hundred,’ a voice called from the left.
Callie Richards, admiring the spectacle from her table, glanced over at the bidder, smiling at the total lack of hesitancy this time. Seemed the accent was a real clincher! And then the bidding was off.
Not that she could blame any of them. Cade Coleman had been setting hearts aflutter ever since his arrival at the hospital a couple of months ago. Being tall, tanned, lean, ripped and foreign would do that.
So would looking dashing and debonair and just a little bit Rhett Butler in his tuxedo.
God knew, she wasn’t immune to those broad shoulders and all that brash American confidence despite what she knew about him from Alex, his stepbrother—and probably the closest thing she had to a friend in the entire world, even if he did live on the other side of the planet.
According to Alex, Cade had fled the US over a problem with a woman. The apple didn’t fall too far from the tree. Which only meant that Cade had baggage. And explained why, to the best of her knowledge, he’d been resolutely single since his arrival.
Not that it had stopped her making a fool of herself with the man. Getting tipsy and flirty with him at a wedding, not long after their rather rocky first acquaintance, and being subsequently rejected had been a particularly humiliating incident. Sure, he’d been nice about it, but it had been a long time since Callie had been turned down by a man and it had stung.
Having to work closely with him in the intervening time had been fraught despite the professional detachment she practised so well. But given that they both specialised in neonatology, he was hard to avoid.
It had only been recently that she’d felt they’d moved beyond that dreaded night and slipped into an easier relationship.
The bidding stalled at eighteen hundred dollars. ‘Come now, ladies,’ the emcee implored. ‘Surely a handsome doctor who spends all his days saving tiny little babies’ lives is worth a little more?’
‘Two thousand five hundred.’
A ripple of excitement ran around the room and Callie craned her neck to see the woman who had made the clear, determined bid that had come from the left. She followed the direction everyone else was looking to find the bidder had risen to her feet—Natalie Alberts.
Tall, willowy, blonde and gorgeous, the New Zealand paediatric registrar, who’d been pursuing Cade from the moment he’d set foot in the hospital, looked like she was about to get her man.
Callie glanced at Cade as the emcee enthused, ‘That’s more like it!’
His toothpaste smile was still firmly in place but Callie, having been at the other end of one of his rejections, had intimate knowledge of that get-me-out-of-here look in his eyes.
Cade sighed inwardly as he forced his smile to widen and his body language to exude a but-of-course veneer. Who wouldn’t want to pay more than a lot of people earned in a month for the pleasure of his company?
Holy crap.
A few hours’ wining and dining a nice woman with a charitable heart was one thing. Spending those hours with someone who’d made no secret she wanted to marry him and have his babies? That had stalker nightmare written all over it.
He’d come to Australia to reinvent himself. To move away from the man he’d been in the past and the secret shame of it all. This was his second chance and he wasn’t going to blow it by falling into his old womanising ways. He was here for his career—not female companionship!
‘Do I have an advance on two and half thousand, ladies?’
Callie felt distinctly sorry for him. He’d gone from basking in the attention to a forced smile and a guarded look in his eyes that she doubted many could read. But as someone who avoided dates at all costs, Callie could easily interpret it.
He’d rather swallow the contents of a poisoned chalice than go on a date with the gorgeous Kiwi.
Or maybe that was just a date with any woman in possession of such robust predatory intent. It could certainly threaten his stringently single status.
‘I have two and half,’ the emcee called. ‘Going once.’
Callie watched as Cade ran a finger along the inside of his collar and stretched his neck from side to side—his smile still firmly plastered in place.
‘Going twice.’ The muscle at the angle of his jaw tightened.
‘Two thousand six.’
It was only when all eyes swivelled to Callie that she realised she’d even uttered a word. But apparently she’d done more than that. Not only was she also on her feet but she’d actually upped the ante.
Natalie’s gaze narrowed and speared right through Callie’s chest. ‘Three thousand,’ she said, glaring with particular vehemence before turning to look triumphantly at the emcee.
‘Ah, that’s more like it.’ The emcee clapped as she looked expectantly at Callie.
Oh, bloody hell. Callie glanced at Cade, expecting to see an even bigger look of dread in his gaze, but to say his relief was palpable was an understatement. He smiled at her—a genuinely huge grin—and everything inside her turned to water.
‘Any further advance?’ the emcee asked, looking directly at Callie.
Cade kicked up an eyebrow and the smile warming his brown eyes caused her pulse to do a strange jitterbug inside her chest. That damned eyebrow told her the ball was in her court.
Callie sighed, resigning herself to keep going. But he sure as hell owed her big-time!
‘Three thousand and one.’ Callie nodded.
‘Two,’ Natalie immediately shot back.
‘Three.’
‘Five hundred,’ the determined blonde countered.
‘Six.’
Callie didn’t take her eyes off Cade the entire time. He’d relaxed now, his head bobbing back and forth between his two bidders as if he were sitting at centre court during the Australian Open.
‘Seven.’
Callie gritted her teeth. ‘Eight.’
Natalie’s strong, clear ‘Four thousand’ caused a few little gasps around
