She grins, and I look at number three. Five nights in a private beach house in Thailand. The woman has taste.
The first two auction prizes?a dinner at a Michelin-star restaurant in London and a whole new designer wardrobe?aresold for above the asking price. I throw in a few bids to ensure I’ve been seen by the MC, but number three is mine. And the woman sitting beside me is coming with me to enjoy the white sand and blue sea of Thailand.
“Now, ladies and gentlemen,” he announces, “lot three, courtesy of an anonymous donor, is five nights in a private beachfront villa on the beautiful Thai coast. Shall we start the bidding at two thousand pounds?”
Virginia raises her hand.
“Four thousand,” a man calls.
“Five thousand,” Virginia counters.
“Six,” retorts the man.
“Fifteen,” I chime in. Virginia turns to me, cocking an eyebrow.
“Game on,” she mouths. I smirk. Amy tenses beside me, her fingers sliding into mine on instinct.
“Twenty,” calls Virginia.
Silence stretches; the audience hangs on each bid.
“Fifty thousand pounds,” I announce. No one is beating me tonight. Not when Amy is the prize on offer.
The room gasps. Virginia’s plastered smile falters before she shrugs.
“Any more bids?” the MC asks. He waits. “Sold.”
I turn to Amy, her jaw almost on the floor.
“You just paid fifty thousand pounds for five nights in Thailand?” she stutters.
“I did.”
“That’s insane.”
“Possibly, but would you like to come with me?”
She stares at me.
“Come on, I’m sure we could keep this fake relationship going for a while longer. Seems a shame to waste the vacation,” I whisper.
She gives me a soft smile. “Sure, I could put up with you for a while longer.”
“There’s one condition,” I tell her, and her eyebrows draw together.
“You need to come with me to my family dinner on Christmas Eve.”
“Why?” Her face is a mixture of confusion and excitement.
“Because my uncle, three tables over, just watched me drop fifty grand. And Virginia’s making a beeline for him.”
She laughs, full of warmth. My heart leaps in my chest. I'm thrilled at the prospect of more time spent together.
“I can agree to that. You really have boxed yourself into a corner, Mr. Harley, haven’t you?” she says, giving me a cheeky wink. “But don’t be getting any ideas about fake proposing to me. That would be going too far.”
I grin, but her words lodge deeper than they should. For the first time in my life, the idea doesn’t sound entirely like a joke.
Chapter twenty-seven
