Page 8 of The Saint (Gentlemen Rogues 3)
"I do, don't I?"
His gaze searched my face again. "Have we met?"
"No, I’ve not had the pleasure. I'm Kaya Sinclair."
The fake name was the one my mother had used often in many of the places we'd gone. Sometimes we'd been the Sinclairs, sometimes the Freemans. We always kept our first names though. Especially when I was small. She made it easy for me to remember if someone was using my actual name. But Reynolds was my real surname. I wasn't giving this geezer access to it.
"Well, a beautiful name for a beautiful woman."
It was only then that I noticed the men that were in close proximity to him. He called one over and muttered something to him. And then the three men that I'd seen in their dark suits and wired communication devices all but vanished into the crowd. Then he moved a little closer. "Now, what is a beautiful woman like you doing at a place like this alone?"
"Oh, you know, we all do things for charity."
"Yes, we do. You know, I'm sorry, but I could swear I have seen you before."
"I'm already speaking to you. You can drop the line."
His gaze ran over my body again. "Maybe you just have one of those faces."
I shrugged because no one had ever said that to me before. Suddenly, Connor's men were back, but they seemed to have multiplied. I counted six in the crowd. "Your friends, they're creepy."
Connor laughed as he glanced around and shook his head slightly. "Well, you can't be too careful these days. In my life, I've just learned to be cautious."
"Well, if you're overly cautious, how on earth do you have any fun?" I tried not to gag on the words as I flirted with him, but I knew it was important to keep his attention.
Tucker served my gimlet, and I took a sip, forcing my face into utter neutrality. I moaned a little to try and indicate bliss, but God, it tasted like shoe polish.
"A woman with good taste in drinks. I like it."
"Well, I learned to appreciate certain things in life."
As Connor flirted more, I moved closer and closer to him, occasionally lightly touching his arm, gauging interest. The crowd started to move toward the larger ballroom, and he inclined his head. "Might I escort you inside?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, I have to decline. I would like some time to talk to you later though. Perhaps we can have another drink, somewhere more… private?"
He took my hand and then bowed forward and kissed it. "I was certainly hoping you would say something like that. What do you say the two of us actually skip this whole thing? I've already written a check. I don't have to be here."
I smiled at him. "I would love that. However, I did already promise I'd take part in the auction."
His eyes went wide. "You're up for auction?"
I gave him a flirty shrug. "Yes. It's for charity, so I agreed."
"Well, in that case, I will certainly bid on you. And immediately after, I’ll get to enjoy some time with you for the evening."
"That sounds perfect." I said it with the kind of smile I hoped that the seductresses in James Bond films would use instead of the tight revulsion with which I felt then. I saw Jennifer waving me over, and I sighed. It was showtime. But at least now I had whet his appetite.
After this auction, I was going to get alone time with Connor Lohman, and then I would get my questions answered.
Jennifer, wearing a black sheath cocktail dress, her blond hair coiled into curls on top of her head, smiled as she reached the podium. “Now, ladies and gentlemen, I know that you have been waiting ever so patiently for the final lot of the evening in our bachelorette auction. Well, the wait is over.”
I tried to remind myself that women did this all the time. They talked to nasty, disgusting men to secure their safety, to secure their futures, hell, even just a drink. Sometimes even health insurance. I could do this. We were just going to have a conversation without his babysitters.
But now, I must auction. Whose bright idea was this?
Yours.
God, what if people bid on me? That would be awful. But what if no one bid on me? That would be equally as awful, and I wasn't sure which one I preferred.
