What's her name? Hansel, Gretel... Gretchen.
She's masked of course, but I know it's her when her gaze doesn't move beyond Christian. She blushes, and selfishly I'm beyond pleased that Christian doesn't acknowledge her at all.The MC asks for our envelope and with a very practiced and eloquent flourish, asks Grace to pull out the winning bill. It's Sean's, and the silk-wrapped basket is awarded to him.I applaud politely, but I'm finding it impossible to concentrate on any more of the proceedings.
"If you'll excuse me," I murmur to Christian.
He looks at me intently.
"Do you need the powder room?"
I nod.
"I'll show you," he says darkly.
When I stand, all the other men round the table stand with me. Oh, such manners.
"No, Christian! You're not taking Ana - I will."
Mia is on her feet before Christian can protest. His jaw tenses, I know he's not pleased.
Quite frankly, neither am I. I have... needs. I shrug apologetically at him, and he sits down quickly, resigned.
On our return, I feel a little better, though the relief of removing the balls has not been as instantaneous as I'd hoped. They're now stashed safely in my clutch purse.
Why did I think I could last the whole evening? I am still yearning - perhaps I can persuade Christian to take me to the boathouse later. I flush at the thought and glance at him as I take my seat. He stares at me, the ghost of a smile crossing his lips.
Phew... he's no longer mad at a missed opportunity, though maybe I am. I feel frustrated - irritable even. Christian squeezes my hand, and we both listen attentively to Carrick, who is back on stage talking about Coping Together. Christian passes me another card - a list of the auction prizes. I scan them quickly.
Holy shit. I blink up at Christian.
"You own property in Aspen?" I hiss. The auction is underway, and I have to keep my voice down.
He nods, surprised at my outburst and irritated, I think. He puts his finger to his lips to silence me.
"Do you have property elsewhere?" I whisper.He nods again and inclines his head to one side in a warning.
The whole room erupts with cheering and applause; one of the prizes has gone for twelve thousand dollars.
"I'll tell you later," Christian says quietly. "I wanted to come with you," he adds rather sulkily.
Well, you didn't. I pout and I realize that I'm still querulous, and no doubt, it's the frustrating effect of the balls. My mood darkens after seeing Mrs. Robinson on the list of generous donors.
I glance around the marquee to see if I can spot her, but I can't see her telltale hair.
Surely Christian would have warned me if she was invited tonight. I sit and stew, applauding when necessary, as each lot is sold for astonishing amounts of money.
The bidding moves to Christian's place in Aspen and reaches twenty thousand dollars.
"Going once, going twice," the MC calls.
And I don't know what possesses me, but I suddenly hear my own voice ringing out clearly over the throng.
"Twenty-four thousand dollars!"
Every mask at the table turns to me in shocked amazement, the biggest reaction of all coming from beside me. I hear his sharp intake of breath and feel his wrath washing over me like a tidal wave.
"Twenty-four thousand dollars, to the lovely lady in silver, going once, going twice...
Sold!"
Chapter Seven
Holy shit, did I really just do that? It must be the alcohol. I've had champagne plus four glasses of four different wines. I glance up at Christian who's busy applauding.
Crap, he's going to be so angry, and we've been getting on so well. My subconscious has finally decided to make an appearance, and she's wearing her Edvard Munch Scream face.Christian leans over to me, a large fake smile plastered across his face. He kisses my cheek and then moves closer to whisper in my ear in a very cold, controlled voice.
"I don't know whether to worship at your feet or spank the living shit out of you."
Oh, I know what I want right now. I gaze up at him, blinking through my mask. I just wish I could read what's in his eyes.
"I'll take option two, please," I whisper frantically as the applause dies down. His lips part as he inhales sharply. Oh that chiseled mouth - I want it on me, now. I ache for him. He gives me a radiant sincere smile that leaves me breathless.
"Suffering, are you? We'll have to see what we can do about that," he murmurs as he runs his fingers along my jaw.
His touch resonates deep, deep inside where that ache has spawned and grown. I want to jump him right here, right now, but we sit back to watch the auction of the next lot.
I can barely sit still. Christian drapes an arm around my shoulders, his thumb rhythmically stroking my back, sending delicious tingles down my spine. His free hand clasps mine, bringing it to his lips, then letting it rest on his lap.
Slowly and surreptitiously, so I don't realize his game until it's too late, he eases my hand up his leg and against his erection. I gasp, and my eyes dart in panic around the table, but all eyes are fixed on the stage. Thank heavens for my mask.
Taking full advantage, I slowly caress him, letting my fingers explore. Christian keeps his hand over mine, hiding my bold fingers, while his thumb skates softly over the nape of my neck. His mouth opens as he gasps softly, and it's the only reaction I can see to my inexperienced touch. But it means so much. He wants me. Everything south of my navel contracts. This is becoming unbearable.
A week by Lake Adriana in Montana is the final lot for auction. Of course Mr. and Dr.
Grey have a house in Montana, and the bidding escalates rapidly, but I am barely aware of it. I feel him growing beneath my fingers, and it makes me feel so powerful.