Page 81 of Shared By the Highest Bidder

“No. Emery cursed him out until he left.” He smiles, sounding grateful.

“He’s a good friend of yours.”

“He is.” Ash stares into my eyes. “And I just stole you from him. I’m sorry.”

“No need. It’s my night with you, and he’s here with his daughter.” I take Ash’s hand. “Let’s go workthe room again. Me and you.”

“You get me, Bernadette.” He kisses the side of my hair, inhaling deeply. “God, you smell so good.”

I smell like Ford...

“You’re not so bad yourself, Dr. Ives,” I stress his name to prove I’d shout from the rooftops how awesome he is.

We walk off hand in hand to well-dressed billionaire donors huddled into packs. I use my charm to flatter their wives, while Ash gets serious about his cause.

Ash’s evil father, who represents greed and dishonesty, left one impression. I left people with another.

We stay until the last check is signed. Ash’s smile at the donation total is infectious.

With everyone gone, we walk along 57thStreet instead of hopping into his limo. I breathe in the smokey aroma of New York in the fall, but I didn’t dress for the chill in the air.

Ash removes his tux jacket and gently drapes it over my shoulders. It’s warm and smells of his spicy musk.

He holds my hand as we walk. At the Engineer’s Gate of Central Park, Ash leads me to a white cement bridge overlooking the boating pond where moonlight dapples the water below.

Something about the night sky makes me think of my old vineyard. Ash listens to me talk about my mom and dad, brushing my face with his hands when I sound emotional.

“That’s so gloriously normal. I’m jealous.” Smiling, Ash pulls his hair out of the handsome manbun. Flaxen waves crash around his face and molten lava buildsbetween my legs.

I think about Ford and how he touched my hair. I swear, I see these two lavishing me. I want to get them back together, but selfishly I want them both to myself, too.

“I know you’re mine this month, and you’re here to be my date, but I don’t want this to just be about me. Tell me about your designs.”

My heart jumps that with everything on his mind, the fundraiser, his father, Ford, Ash has room to absorb what’s important to me.

I give him a rundown, keeping to high-level, marketing hooks, practicing if I ever have to give an interview.

“You’re an inspiration to be standing strong, fighting for what you want,” Ash says. “And we have something in common. We both want to help people.”

“I guess.” I would never put myself on his level, but the fact he considers me in the same league as him flatters me beyond belief.

“I can fall for a girl like you,” Ash whispers, his mouth hovering over mine. “I need to kiss you.”

“What took you so long?”

“Nice.” He kisses me with lips that taste like champagne and whipped cream from the dessert cart we raided before we left the hotel.

The kiss is passionate and fiery. A man this tall and broad makes me feel tiny and malleable in his arms. When a hand brushes across one breast, I jump.

“It’s just me, baby. I want to touch you. Everywhere,” Ash teases. “Can I keep going?”

“Please.” I suck in a breath.

His large hands squeeze both breasts, and then his fingers slide into the neckline.

“Don’t tell Ford how far you’re letting me go,” Ash rasps.

“I won’t,” I groan, feeling my nipples fondled. “He doesn’t own me. Even though he acts like he does.”

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