Page 124 of Billionaire Bad Boy Auction

I took a deep breath and raised my hand.

“Twenty thousand.”

The room went silent.

Dean turned, his blue eyes locking onto mine like I was the only person in the room. The announcer’s gavel cracked. “Sold! To the determined lady in white!”

Applause erupted, but I barely heard it. My heart was pounding so loudly in my ears it drowned out everything else. I’d done it. Again. Why? Stupid, stupid, stupid. That was what this was. Pure stupidity. My heart was pounding in my chest so hard I didn’t know if I was going to puke or pass out.

Dean was already striding toward me, ignoring the announcer calling after him for photos. The crowd parted for him like he was Moses at the Red Sea. I couldn’t move. My feet felt glued to the floor. Was he going to yell at me? Demand I withdraw my bid? Unlike last year, I did have the money. I had closed on a very high-end piece of property and my commission check was very, very good.

He stopped inches away, his breathing heavy.

“We have to stop running into each other this way,” I said, tilting my head up to meet his gaze.

His lips parted. “What the hell?”

It wasn’t exactly what I hoped he would say. But then I saw it. It was a faint smile. With Dean, that was the equivalent of an ear-to-ear grin.

I shrugged, unable to stop my own smile. “Couldn’t miss my chance to buy a hot date. It’s for charity, after all.” I tapped his chest with one finger. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

A smirk tugged at his mouth. “That’s what this is about? Charity?”

I gestured to the banner overhead. “Um, yes?”

Dean chuckled, low and warm, the sound curling through me like smoke. Damn, I had missed him.

“Can we get all our buyers and bachelors on the stage!” the auctioneer called out over the speakers. “Everyone, please report to the stage.”

I looked at Dean to see how he felt about that. As expected, he felt the same way I did. He clearly would rather be anywhere else.

I grabbed Dean’s hand. “Come on. We’re leaving.”

“Leaving?” He raised an eyebrow but didn’t resist as I pulled him toward the exit. “Where exactly are you taking me, Watson?”

I shot him a look over my shoulder. “You’ll see.”

When we made it outside, I remembered I didn’t drive.

“Is your bike here?”

He frowned. “Of course.”

“Let’s go.”

He looked at my dress. “You want a ride on my bike wearing that?”

I glanced down at the white dress and then back at him with a smirk. “Why? Think I can’t handle it?”

“I’m not sure I can,” he said gruffly, heading toward the parking lot.

I trailed behind him, my heels clicking against the pavement. He didn’t look back to check if I was keeping up, but I could feel the way his pace slowed just enough for me to stay close. When we reached his bike, he stopped and turned to face me.

“You sure about this?” he asked, his voice low.

“Positive,” I said, stepping closer. “Unless you’re worried I’ll distract you.”

That earned me a sharp look, but the corner of his mouth twitched again. “You’ve always been trouble,” he muttered, handing me his helmet.