Page 17 of His Brazen Mate

He scanned the room, his eyes landing on Michael O’Brien, their host for the evening. He didn’t like O’Brien. O’Brien was surrounded by a group of men, his laughter booming across the room. Drake noted the way people gravitated towards him—respect and fear in equal measure in their eyes.

“Let’s mingle,” Megan suggested, guiding them towards a group of well-dressed guests. As they moved through the crowd, they exchanged pleasantries and small talk, while keeping an ear out for useful tidbits of information.

“Isn’t it fascinating,” Drake said, his voice light and engaging, “how these auctions bring together such a diverse group of people?”

Megan nodded, her eyes never leaving their surroundings. “Indeed. You never know who you might meet.”

They approached a table where a trio of men were discussing the latest trends in the bourbon industry. One of them, a burly man with a thick beard, seemed particularly knowledgeable.

“I heard there’s a lot of pressure on some of the smaller distilleries lately,” Drake interjected smoothly.

“Rumors of buyouts and hostile takeovers.”

The bearded man grunted, taking a sip of his drink. “You’re not wrong. It’s a tough market. Some folks don’t play fair.”

Megan leaned in, her eyes wide with feigned curiosity. “That sounds dangerous. What can you do in a situation like that?”

“Not much,” the man admitted, shaking his head. “Either you sell, or you get crushed.”

Drake exchanged a meaningful glance with Megan. This was the kind of information they needed. As they continued to work the room, they gathered more snippets of conversation, each piece adding to the puzzle of the smuggling operation they were trying to uncover.

Despite the seriousness of their mission, the act of pretending to be a couple felt disconcertingly natural. Drake found himself drawn to Megan, the bond between them making every touch, every shared glance, feel electric. It was becoming difficult not to find a corner away from all of this where he could remind her of what they had.

He reminded himself that for her, this was just a cover, that their relationship was part of the charade, but he sensed it had become more than that for her. As the night wore on, Megan seemed to find it harder to maintain that distance. The way Megan’s eyes sparkled when she laughed, the warmth of her body against his, it all felt too real.

“Megan,” Drake whispered as they moved to a quieter corner of the room, “we’re getting close. I can feel it.”

She nodded, her eyes meeting his. “Just a little longer. We need something concrete.”

As if on cue, Michael O’Brien’s voice cut through the air. “Ladies and gentlemen, please make your way to the auction hall; the main event is about to begin.”

Drake took Megan’s hand, guiding her through the throng of people. The auction hall was even more opulent than the main room, with rows of chairs set up before a grand stage. They took their seats, their eyes scanning the room for any sign of suspicious activity.

As the auctioneer began introducing the first lot, Drake leaned in close to Megan. “Stay alert. This is where things could get interesting.”

She nodded; her expression serious. “I’m ready.”

The auction proceeded smoothly, the bids escalating rapidly as rare bottles of bourbon were brought to the stage. Drake watched the faces in the crowd, noting the tension and excitement that filled the room. It was a high-stakes game, and the players were all too eager to outbid each other.

Then, as the final lot was introduced, Drake’s senses went on high alert. There was a shift in the atmosphere, a subtle undercurrent of anticipation that told him something significant was about to happen.

The auctioneer’s voice rang out. “And now, for our final item of the evening, a rare batch of bourbon with a storied history. The bidding starts at one hundred thousand dollars.”

The room went silent for a moment, then the bids started coming in, fast and furious. Drake watched as Michael O’Brien made his move, signaling his intent with a casual lift of his hand.

“Why is he buying his own bourbon? I mean it’s his auction, right?” asked Megan, confused.

Drake nodded. “Part of the proceeds are going to charity. O’Brien donated most of the bourbon being auctioned off. Rumor is he decided he didn’t want to let that one go.” Drake grinned and then raised his hand, upping the bid. “Let’s see how bad he wants it.”

Megan shook her head and O’Brien scowled their way. The other bidders took their cue from Drake and ran the price up. Competition was fierce, but O’Brien’s confidence was unshaken.

As the bidding war raged on, Drake felt Megan’s hand tighten around his. He looked at her, seeing the determination in her eyes. They were on the verge of a breakthrough, and they could both feel it.

Finally, the gavel came down, and the auctioneer declared, “Sold, to Michael O’Brien.”

The room erupted in applause, but Drake’s mind was already racing ahead. This was their chance to gather the evidence they needed. As the crowd began to disperse, he leaned in close to Megan.

“Now we move,” he whispered. “Stay close.”

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