Underneath It All

She looked into Penny’s evil wide-eyed gaze. “You should bid on him.”

Nicole attempted to act as though that were the most ridiculous thing she’d heard, but even she could feel the weakness in the effort.

“I’m not bidding on anyone,” she replied, not sounding the least bit convincing.

“Come on. We’re researching this auction for the show. What better way to gain insight than to play along.”

Nicole glanced at Eve, who actually seemed to be going along with Penny’s crazy idea.

“She’s got a point,” Eve agreed.

Biting her lip, Nicole turned and eyed him once more. It was one thing to admire the man from afar. Heck, it would even be another to wander over and start a conversation. But to force him into a date by winning him in an auction? Could she really go that far?

Taking in another drink of the sexy stud, she wondered who she was kidding. Of course she could. In a heartbeat.

“You need to do this,” Penny said. “For the show.”

“For the show,” Nicole repeated.

DEVON BRADSHAW SIPPED HIS bourbon while admiring the sweetest thing he’d seen since his mother’s peach pie. Tall, blonde and beautiful, the woman had captured his eye with just a glance and gave him hope that this night might not end badly.

He and his brothers, Bryce and Todd, had been roped into this charity event by their sister, Grace. At the time, she claimed she hadn’t realized it was a bachelor auction, and when offered the opportunity to back out, Bryce, the sensible one, did exactly that. Devon planned to follow until Todd challenged him. The one who goes for the highest bid wins, loser has to double the winner’s bid for charity. Even then, Devon tried to weasel out of it until word of the challenge got back to Grace and the charity organizers and one thing led to another and…well…here he was, wondering what he’d end up with after the night was through.

All in all, it was good for business, just another stop in a string appearances aimed at keeping Bradshaw Investments in good corporate standing with the major money-handlers of Atlanta. As future CEO of the family business, functions like this had become one of his least favorite parts of the job.

But the stunning blonde across the room changed everything.

Slim, striking, fresh as a summer day, the woman had that special something that left him with hope. More fit and slender than plush and curvy, she had a runner’s body and light caramel skin, the type who wouldn’t look foreign in roller blades and jeans, but easily softened into a Southern belle in that pretty pink dress and heels.

He liked the contradiction, and as he continued watching her through the crowd, he wondered if the look in her eye meant this night might end on a high note.

“I can’t believe you two are really doing this.”

The whining voice of reason came from Bryce.

“Would you stop with the complaining already? Besides, I thought you’d enjoy spending the evening watching Todd’s public humiliation.”

“Neither of you should be humiliating yourselves at this auction. We should all be back at the office trying to figure out who’s stealing money from the company.”

Devon scoffed. “We don’t know that there’s any stealing going on, and if there is, we’ll get the report from accounting once they pinpoint the discrepancies in the books.”

“This is serious. We should be more hands-on about this.”

There being the statement that reminded Devon on more than one occasion that Bryce should be the one inheriting the job as CEO of Bradshaw Investments. If their father had made the choice based on who was best suited, it would have been Bryce all along. The man had the eye for numbers and the wit for business that made him the natural choice. It was only birth order that put him in the position as head of finance instead.

According to their father, William Devon Bradshaw III, who inherited the family business from his father, William Devon Bradshaw Jr., tradition had it that the next logical CEO would be the next William Devon Bradshaw. That had been the assumption from the day Devon was born, and every step he’d taken in life had been leading toward that end. He had a masters in economics and business management, had been working with the firm since his apprenticeship back as a teen.

It was all laid out for him, just as it had been laid out for all the Bradshaws before him. The only problem with the whole scenario was that he was bored to death with the job, and he’d only now come to the realization that life wouldn’t get more interesting the farther up the ladder he went.

Though technically still in charge, their father had been slowly stepping back, letting Devon handle the operation, and now that he’d finally had a glimpse of the life he was to inherit, he didn’t like what he saw. This business of investments and numbers was comatose at best, and increasingly, he doubted he could last another year, much less the rest of his life.

The only question now was what to do about it. Given their annual audit had uncovered suspicious discrepancies in the books, now was not the time to start the certain shake-up that would occur when Devon announced he’d like to make a break from tradition. When it came to investing, people were nervous and image meant everything. If there was anything shady going on within the company, they’d need to resolve that first and let the dust settle before dropping any more bombs.

And the announcement that a first-born Bradshaw had his own ideas about his future was certain to create some fall-out.

“I mean it,” Bryce added under his breath. “We have to face the real prospect that someone’s stealing from the company.”

Devon slugged back the last of his drink, deciding the only prospect he cared to deal with tonight was the blonde across the room.

Slinging an arm around Bryce’s shoulder, he led the man the few steps toward the bar. “Let me give you some brotherly advice. For the next few hours, forget about the audit. You’re better off here exuding calm confidence than hovering over the accountants distracting them from their job. They’ve got your cell phone number and if something comes up, they’ll call.”

He ordered a drink and slid a twenty across the sleek marble bar.

“I see,” Bryce said. “And while I’m forgetting about the audit, you’ll be busy working the blonde over there.”

He winked and smiled. “I like the way you think, bro.”

Bryce frowned but didn’t press. More than anyone, he knew Devon’s heart wasn’t in the family business. He only doubted Devon had the guts to admit it to their father. And who knows, maybe he didn’t.

All he knew was that tonight he didn’t want to think about futures or audits or career aspirations. There was an intriguing woman with sharp-witted blue eyes calling for his attention, and there was nothing in the auction’s rule book that said he couldn’t try to influence the buyers in any way.

He gestured to Bryce. “Who’s that she’s talking to? Don’t we know her?”

Bryce eyed the shorter brunette from across the large room.

“You know who that is?” Bryce said. “I think that’s the woman with that talk show. Between Friends, or Our Time, or something like that. I forget the name. It’s kind of a chick show, but it’s getting pretty popular.”

“Oh, yeah. I know the one you’re talking about.” He picked up his drink and took a sip. “I wonder if the blonde works for the show.”

“If she does she’s a millionaire. You heard about that, didn’t you?” When Devon shook his head, Bryce explained, “A bunch of them won Lot ‘O’Bucks. They’re all millionaires—the brunette for sure.” He added with a shrug, “Maybe they’re here to spend their fortune.”

“Deep pockets would certainly work in my favor.” Setting his drink on the bar, he added, “I think I’ll go introduce myself.”

Bryce opened his mouth, no doubt to object, but before he could speak a low voice behind them interrupted.

“Why, if it isn’t my favorite investment broker. How much am I going to have to pay for you tonight?”

The cold chill told Devon it was Abigail Westlaw, a local real estate agent with whom he, in a temporary loss of sanity, had made the mistake of sleeping with. Once. Granted, it wasn’t that he didn’t find Abbey attractive enough to go back for seconds. A fair share of heat had simmered between them. The problem was that no sooner had they finished their morning coffee than Abbey was all over town spreading every detail of the tryst to anyone who would listen.

And thanks to that, out of the woodwork came a dozen other men who’d shared heat with Abbey, all interested in comparing notes.

Call him old fashioned, but Devon had never been interested in communal sex. He preferred being the one-and-only, and if he’d taken his time and gotten to know the woman better, he would have discovered before making the mistake that Abbey Westlaw liked her men frequent and interchangeable.

He forced a smile and replied, “Why bid on used goods? Surely, you’d be more interested in someone new and shiny.”

Please?

She threw her head back in an overexaggerated laugh and slung a bony arm over his shoulder. “Devon, you were always the funny one.”