Page 20 of Dr. Do-Right
“Dierdre! Have you met Dr. Pearce?” He waved a blonde woman over to where we stood.
“Dr. Dobrev, so good to see you!” She smiled, the tight skin of her face stretching as much as the Botox would allow. “I haven’t had the pleasure. Dierdre Harrington.” She extended her hand to Frank, then to me. I opened my mouth to introduce myself, but Mal beat me to it.
“This is Rija Sanchez. My girlfriend.”
“Harrington? The one they’re naming that new wing of the children’s hospital after? Must’ve cost a pretty penny.” Frank chortled, throwing back the remains of his glass. Dierdre demurred, saying something about the importance of giving back. I tuned them out, watching Mal snatch two glasses of champagne from a passing server.
“You’re throwing that girlfriend title around pretty liberally tonight,” I murmured, taking a flute from him. His fingers smoothed across my hip again.
“That a problem?” His eyes twinkled as he took a sip, my stomach fizzing like the bubbles in his wine.
“No. No problem.”
“Good. Because I’m planning to throw it around a lot more.”
As the man of the hour, it seemed like Mal was passed from group to group for the rest of the night. He didn’t miss an opportunity to introduce me as his girlfriend and found every excuse imaginable to touch me. I was just as bad, stroking the muscles of his back and leaning into his body at every opportunity.
His speech was flawless. He was poignant, witty and hopeful. And after he stepped off the stage to a standing ovation, every ounce of his attention had been focused on me. I’m sure dinner was lovely, though I could hardly remember it. Mal took full advantage of the high slit on my skirt, stroking the bare skin of my thigh under the white tablecloth, always stopping at the top, just short of getting under my skirt. Holy fuck, I wanted him under my skirt so badly.
“Hope you’re ready for a bidding war, dear,” Dierdre whispered as a man on the stage announced the auction was about to start.
“Bidding war?” I might have misheard her. My mind was so wholly in the gutter, my thoughts weren’t working properly. Mal’s fingers tightened on my thigh. Another rush of warmth flooded between my legs. We needed to get out of here soon, before we set the room on fire.
“I assume you don’t want him to go on that lunch date with anyone else. Better be quick!” She patted her bidding paddle, smiling indulgently at me before turning her attention back to the stage.
“Lunch date?” I hissed to Mal. He leaned forward to wrap his arm around my shoulders, fingers circling my skin.
“Lunch…” he trailed off, eyes catching on the low neckline of my dress for a moment. “I auction off a lunch with a fan every year. And I want to lick you right there.”
“Right here?” My fingers slipped up my chest, tracing the line of silk across my breast. He nodded, captivated. “Maybe that’s something you can do at lunch. How much do these dates usually run a gal?”
I wasn’t swimming in cash like the people around me, but I’d dip into savings if I needed to. I wanted that lunch date. And a dinner date. And a morning-after date. All Mal’s dates were mine, now.
His eyes snapped to mine, shining. “Don’t worry about the cost. You’re going to win.”
***
“Holy fuck.”
My heart was racing, cheeks aflame. I fanned myself with an auction brochure. I was fairly certain that I was as close to a panic attack as I’d ever been in my 29 years of life.
“You did so well, Kitten,” Malachi murmured, guiding me past tables and well-wishers. Mostly. I caught the eye of the brunette across the room, who had been gunning for the lunch date hard. She practically snarled at me.
Oh, fuck.“Oh, fuck.”
Mal kneaded my shoulder, steering me to the side of the room and waving at a few folks along the way. Someone grabbed him to say something, and I stood there, swaying on my feet. I was probably in shock.
“Twenty thousand…” Sweat prickled on my neck as Mal said goodbye to whoever he was talking to and led me through the maze of tables once more. The building’s AC had cranked up. The contrast of my heated, adrenaline-filled body and the frigid air pumping through the vents made me feel even more off-kilter.
I’d never spent twenty thousand dollars on anything before. I’m not sure I’d ever even spent five thousand on anything.
“And you won’t have to today.” Mal smiled back at me as we neared a table with a sign that said “Settlement Desk”. Apparently, the shock of spending so much money with just a few raises of my arm had made me babble out loud. “I told you, I’ll cover you. I’ll even pay for lunch. How about that?”
“We just spenttwenty thousand dollarsto go out to lunch together, and it doesn’t even include the meal?” My head was still reeling, had been since we broke into the five-figure range. The women in that room had been ruthless. It had been an absolute madhouse the second Mal’s face popped up as the next item up for auction. Towards the end, Mal’d had to nudge my arm to make sure I kept bidding. “Bullshit. You’re taking me to McDonalds. I’m getting a Happy Meal.”
“Rija,” he snorted, reaching into his breast pocket to pull out a checkbook.
“I’m serious. You’ll never financially recover from this.” I laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of it. He hauled me into his side, nose nuzzling my neck.
