Tycoon For Auction. Katherine Garbera
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“Spectacular isn’t necessary for success,” she said.
“No, but it makes life more exciting.”
She watched him working and realized that he craved excitement. It clung to him like a second skin. She knew then that if she hadn’t bid on him they’d never have been intimate because they were in two totally different universes. Maybe they’d never been meant to meet. Every time she’d messed with fate it came back to haunt her. Just once she’d like to find a guy and have the kind of relationship that her peers at work seemed to take for granted.
“I like to blend in,” she said.
He came over to her. The sun streaming through the windows behind him made it impossible for her to see his features. He touched her cheek, rubbing one finger down the length of her face, resting his hand against her neck.
“I noticed,” he said.
She couldn’t think while he touched her. She knew her pulse had increased. He probably felt her racing heartbeat. Could he see inside her? Did he realize that she wanted more from him than three cold impersonal dates? She stepped back. I’m in control, she reminded herself.
She felt like she should apologize but didn’t. Quiet was who she was. “That’s not your way, is it?”
“Not really. I like to shake things up.”
“I noticed. I’m sorry I didn’t want to play in that trivia game,” Corrine stated, referring to the game many of the guests had played.
“No problem. I just thought we could win.” She knew they would have. She’d always been good at those kinds of games but never played them in public. It seemed like the only people who participated at company events were the glory hounds and those who’d had too many drinks.
She had a strict rule about alcohol and work-related functions. She thought Rand must, too, because he’d drunk cola all day like herself. Actually, she’d drunk diet, but Rand didn’t need calorie-free drinks. His body had been sculpted by years of being top dog. Of honing his body and skills until he was simply the best man in any room. Realizing an uncomfortable silence had fallen, she attempted to break the mood.
“Sometimes winning isn’t the most important thing.”
He grabbed his chest and staggered backward. “Say it isn’t so.”
Corrine chuckled. She liked his self-deprecating humor. She liked that he’d let her set the tone for their presence at the party. She just plain liked him and that was…dangerous.
“What’s wrong with him?” Paul asked from the other side of the room.
“I shocked him,” Corrine said.
“How?” Paul asked.
“I told him winning wasn’t everything,” she said with a grin.
“Oh, no.”
“Are you still weakened from the blow?” Paul asked Rand.
“Yes. That’s my Kryptonite. Need a quick fix. Must win.” Rand staggered around the room like a weakened man, clutching the table for support.
“Good. How about a quick match of beach volleyball?” Paul asked.
Rand straightened slowly. “What did you have in mind?”
“Two on two. You and Corrine against me and Angelica.”
Paul was looking at Rand, but Rand looked at her and Corrine wasn’t sure what to do. She shrugged. “I don’t have a change of clothes.”
“Angelica keeps spare clothes on the yacht. I know she’d loan you some. I’ll go check with her,” Paul said, leaving the room.
She sensed Rand’s eyes on her as she finished clearing the last table and put some things in the trash. She didn’t want to look at him. Didn’t want to see that challenging light in his eyes. But she glanced over her shoulder and was captivated.
“Wanna play?”
No, she thought. She wanted to retreat to her home ground—her safety area—and forget about her job and men and everything. At least until Monday when life would be normal again.
“I’m not good at sports,” she said carefully. She prided herself on mastering whatever she attempted. When her prowess at sports never developed she’d given up on them.
“You said winning wasn’t everything.”
“But to you it is.”
“How about we just have fun?”
“I can do fun.”
“Really, without your laptop?”
“Make up your mind. Do you want me to play or not?”
“I want you to play, but it’s up to you,” he said.
She knew he’d be disappointed if she didn’t play. Why did pleasing him matter? But for some reason it did. Before she could answer, Paul returned with Angelica.
“Come on, Corrine. It’ll be fun,” Angelica said.
Corrine nodded and found herself in a very short time standing barefoot in the sand wearing borrowed clothes. Rand wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close.
Her mind ceased functioning and all she could do was breathe in the masculine scent of his aftershave and feel the warmth of his body pressed to hers. His leg was hairy and tickled where it rubbed against hers.
“Here’s the plan,” he said, his words brushing across her skin.
“I can’t hit the ball very hard,” she said.
He smiled at her. It was the kind of smile that people always gave you when you were athletically challenged. “Don’t worry. I can.”
“Tell me what to do.”
“I will.”
“Don’t let this go to your head,” she said.
“How?”
“I’m still in charge.”
“How can I forget it? You bought me, remember?” he asked.
She knew she didn’t want to like him but realized it was too late. He served the ball and the game progressed. She realized that Rand Pearson was the kind of guy that made her wish she still believed in happy endings.
Three
Rand knew Paul had meant for the game to be friendly; the inclusion of the women pretty much said it without words. Angelica, though, was a fierce competitor and Corrine as well rose to the occasion, playing with more spirit than skill. But Rand had never been able to participate in any match and not give it his