Page 32 of The Marriage Auction 2: Part 1

I stared at the phone, double checked the number, and shook my head before bursting into a laughter so intense my belly ached with the effort I’d exerted.

“The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, who had a panic attack in an elevator, carried sexy panties in her purse, and smelled like sunshine and marijuana, has blown me off.” I couldn’t believe it.

It had never happened to me before. Usually when I asked for a female’s contact information they would fall all over themselves to give it. Apparently not this woman.

I grinned as I stared out the window at the Las Vegas landscape. “A fake number.Bravo, solskinn.”Bravo, sunshine, I whispered in my native language at my reflection in the glass.

Too bad tonight was the auction.

The odds of us seeing one another again were slim to none.

Episode 13

Age Is Only a Number

RHODES

I knocked on the door to the penthouse apartment of the luxury resort Alana and Christophe used when they were in Las Vegas. As I understood it, they’d leased the home from the resort owner indefinitely. I’d never seen them live anywhere else in Nevada, other than the same hotel where she kept her office space. It was an odd setup. Most of the year they lived in their home in France. I also knew they owned a home in Hawaii because I’d designed it, and they were thinking of purchasing land in Montana of all places. That idea fit Christophe perfectly, as he adored American culture, but not Alana. She was far too poised and pristine for me to imagine her tromping through the countryside or up on top of a horse. I simply couldn’t picture it.

Emily gave a long sigh as she stared at her phone, her head always down, face glued to the device.

The door opened and Alana stood there looking as beautiful as ever in a pair of gray slacks and a white silk blouse. Her makeup and hair were meticulous, the red of her lips a pretty contrast against her skin tone, while her hair framed her face on both sides and fell like shiny black ribbons down over her chest.

“Rhodes, Emily!” Her arms extended and Emily dashed into her embrace.

“Auntie!” Emily gushed, clinging to the petite woman.

“Ma douce.”My sweetshe spoke the French nickname she’d been calling my daughter her entire life. “Let me get a good look at you.” She put her hands to Emily’s shoulders and held her at arm’s length. “Just as I suspected, more stunning than the last time we were together.”

Emily blushed as a beaming smile spread across her face. Something she rarely did with me anymore. I gave my daughter compliments all the time, but somehow, they always fell flat.

“Is that my niece I hear?” Christophe called from deeper inside.

“Uncle C!” Emily hollered, let Alana go and bolted into their apartment on the hunt for Christophe. He’d likely be in the kitchen.

Alana tilted her head to the side and my shoulders drooped. “Hey Alana,” I said, the weight of my life loosening the tension at the sight of someone I cared for.

She put her hands to my biceps, leaned forward and air kissed one side of my cheek and then the other before pulling back and assessing me. Her gaze was shrewd and all-knowing.

“Teenagers are complicated, no?” She smirked.

I let out the sigh that I’d been holding in since I got off the plane.

I’d been pickpocketed by that gorgeous young woman, who ultimately stole all my cash, but returned everything else. But my hip throbbed from the fall, and I couldn’t get the woman’s warm brown eyes out of my head. Then the second we’d gotten in the car and started our journey to the resort, Emily had started in with her complaints.

“Las Vegas isugly.”

“The weather is toohot.”

“The desert is soooooboring.”

“When are we going home?”

It was getting more difficult to deal with a contrary, unhappy teen day in and day out. She needed a female figure to look up to. And her mother wasn’t exactly the best example of the kind of woman I hoped to see Emily grow up to be.

I looked into Alana’s sympathetic eyes and nodded. “Yeah,” I muttered in answer to her question.

She chuckled lightly and I swore it sounded like music. “Come. Christo has prepared a feast.”

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