"And the last bachelor up for bids is…"
Barnaby tuned out the auctioneer's voice and wondered for the millionth time how he'd gotten roped into this. A bachelor auction was definitely not his style—even on Valentine's Day. But, he reminded himself, this was for a good cause.
Tugging at the collar of his suit, he shifted uneasily as the auctioneer continued his sales pitch.
He smiled.
He posed.
He felt comfortable up on stage with a blinding spotlight shining on him.
The auctioneer was driving up the bids—but all Barnaby could hear was the roar of the crowd as women yelled out numbers and cheered each other on.
Squinting into the lights, he tried to make out who was bidding on him, but to no avail. Then, before he knew it, the gavel sounded.
He'd been sold! But to who…
"Congratulations," the auctioneer said with a grin. "You went for the most money. Things got pretty heated there at the end."
Barnaby stepped off the stage and into the crowd of women. He ignored them as he searched for Alexander Lloyds. He found him by the side of the stage with a cell phone in one man rattled off some of the arrangements he'd made while Barnaby's busy preparing to be sold to the highest bidder.
Barnaby glanced at the well-dressed crowd; he was dying to know who he had to keep company for 24 hours. There was no more time for him to worry because Nathan Seymour himself stepped out of the crowd, catching him staring.
"Hello, Handsome," he approached the blonde.
"What brings you here?" Barnaby's confusion was evident on his face.
"Honey, this auction is like a strip show. I saw you flaunting your stuff up there and I was really interested in seeing some skin." He bobbed his slim eyebrows at Barnaby, smiling, and added, "What do you say?"
Barnaby cleared his throat. "About stripping? Not in this lifetime."
"You're such a spoilsport. With your body and good looks, you'd make a fortune." He winked. "Why, I alone would pay you handsomely."
Now that just plain embarrassed him. He frowned and said, "Surely a capable businessman like yourself has better things to spend his money on."
"Ah Barnaby," Lloyds snaps his phone shut and slid it into his back pocket. "I see you met your match. Good of you to get acquainted."
The King of Heroes stood frozen, his upper lip twitching.
"What?"
"I thought I told you," Nathan explained as he brushed away a speck of dust from Barnaby's suit, "I would pay you handsomely. I figured this was the perfect opportunity for me to work on your faults, maybe soften you up a bit."
That easily, he recovered, a smile spreading across his lips. "I don't have any faults."
With his low-lidded, pink eyes, Nathan stared, then smiled mischievously. "I know I can't wait for tomorrow~"
— — — — — — — —
Barnaby pulled up in front of Nathan's place with his sleek red convertible. He exited the elevator on the right floor and made his way to the front door as punctual and unenthusiastic as if he were reporting for a doctor's appointment, pushing the bell.
When the door opened, he braced himself.
He was glad he was braced, because while he expected for Nathan to grace him with his presence, he found himself looking into emerald-blue eyes.
Seeing Amelia made his heart beat faster; that easily, she aroused him, his libido going into hopeful overdrive.
She looked wonderful, though she obviously hadn't gone to any great pains. He wanted her desperately the other day when they kissed. But today, he wanted her more than ever. Barefaced, in nothing more exotic than jeans and a silky shirt, with her hair in a messy bun, she could bring him to his knees.
Amelia seemed to like his outfit; Barnaby's soft worn denim hugged strong thighs and narrow hips, while his dark-blue blazer empathized broad shoulders.
Her gaze rose to the set of his jaw, to his firm mouth that's currently struggling not to smile.
"Right on time," she said. "I guess Nathan told you to dress casual too, huh?"
She lightly brushed the front of his shirt.
"He set us up, didn't he?" he asked. She stepped into the hall and closed the door behind her.
"Nathan filled me in on the details—buying you for a day really isn't what I expected. I suppose he really wants for us to patch things up, huh?"
"That's not all he's planning, no doubt."
He was right, Barnaby thought as they pulled up at the marina and she led the way to a beautiful seventy-foot yacht. On board the captain greeted them. The boat was theirs for the next five hours.
"Let's go cruising up the coast," Amelia suggested. "If that's alright with you?"
As she spoke, a crewman opened a bottle of champagne and poured them each a glass. Barnaby took in the luxurious cabin, the elegant furniture and the tray of hors d'oevres beside the champagne and frowned.
Nathan was going all out with his money.
Barnaby accepted the glass of champagne, then went on deck where he watched the crew cast off. Sternbild was balmy and clear. While their yacht moved through the maze of boats, Amelia stood beside him and enjoyed the spectacular view.
He did the math; one yacht, one bottle of champagne and an entire day together equaled seduction. He didn't want to participate in this act.
He caught Amelia staring at him.
One corner of her mouth curved up in a smile.
"What?" he asked.
"This is a surprise," she said.
"You mean the boat and everything."
"No, I mean you. I honestly thought you wouldn't go through with this." Amelia's voice rubbed against him like warm velvet. Barnaby had to hold in a shiver, while he attempted a cool, sophisticated expression.
"Mr. Maverick wouldn't be pleased if I canceled. I'm just upholding my end of the deal, and this is strictly business," he told her.
Her gaze never left his face.
"Funny, I expected that answer," she smiled. "So how will we pass the time?"
He hated that his mind instantly flashed to the large master suite. The bed was large, and the amenities impressive enough to dazzle royalty.
"Tell me about your life," Amelia settled on a chair on the warm deck.
Barnaby sighed and followed suit. He sipped his drink.
"I don't have a life," he said. "My family was my life, and they were taken away from me at an early age. I spend my free time searching for my parents killer, but now that Jake has been dealt with I find myself lost at what to do."
That escalated quickly, Amelia thought.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I don't need you to pity me."
She took a minute, wondering how to make things right. It wasn't a matter of defending herself. Her actions toward Barnaby were indefensible and today was about admitting that. All that mattered was convincing him that she was ready to change.
He sipped his champagne while he watched the sky turn darker.
"Are you that freaked out about what happened between us?" she asked carefully. Finally, he turned his gaze to her.
"What do you expect?" he arched his brow. "After what happened, I needed some time to sort things through. I needed to distance myself from you before I would do something I'd regret."
"To be honest, I figured it's natural you'd hate me—"
"Why would I hate you?" He'd surprised her, clearly.
"Because of the… you know… the kiss. And I practically wanted to cut you to pieces—"
"You think I hate you because of that kiss?"
"Yes." Please, let it be true. "And I can say that over these past two months, especially since that kiss, I've spend a lot of time searching my conscience. Searching my heart."
Now she had Barnaby's undivided attention.
"And?"
"And I saw things I didn't like. I've behaved shamefully and there's no excuse for me. I'm rotten to the very soul. Everything you said about me—as difficult as it was to accept—was the truth."
She looked up, her eyes sad. "I know rotten, deep-rooted attitudes don't change in a day. But I'm trying. Surely that counts for something."
Her eyes were shining now. He couldn't tell if it was the wind or the threat of tears.
"I just want for us to be good friends again, Barnaby. I understand so much more now. If you can give me another chance to prove—"
"No, I can't," He shook his head firmly. "I'm glad that you recognize your own faults, but in the end it's still about you. You want us to be friends, and I obviously don't."
She looked at Barnaby with miserable eyes.
"How can you be so cruel?" There was an indescribable agony in her voice. His heart sagged, and Barnaby's impulse was to throw himself on his knees, kiss her hands, and comfort her; but he knew that she was only interested in him as a friend.
He laughed a little unnaturally.
"You're the cruel one for expecting the impossible from me." Before he could say anything else his call band rang and Agnes explained the urgent situation at hand.
"There's a fire at West Silver. The firemen are doing what they can to extinguish the flames and to prevent the fire spreading out. Your mission is to rescue any remaining civilians on the scene and to secure the area."
"Understood."
"You don't trust me because I'm a liar in your eyes, isn't it?" Amelia spat at him. "I'll always be the same lying, deceitful woman no matter what I do or say." Rage flared up in her heart, and hatred for Barnaby.
"Just what do you want from me!"
He turned round sharply, and his voice was hard. "You know what I want!"
He looked at her, his words holding an extra layer of meaning, causing a tingle sensation in her belly that had nothing to do with the champagne. Something sparked between them.
He regained control over the situation, and except for the sad look on his face, which he couldn't prevent from being visible, he was as calm as ever.
"I know you can work on your faults and succeed to overcome them. I just can't help it if you don't love me," he said with a hint of desperation.
And as if his own words of pain overcame the last barrier of his self-control, he activates his Hundred Power, presently leaving her behind.
