Page 3 of A Christmas Auction

I screeched, reaching for the hand that was gripping my hair. Pain like I’d never felt before made me feel like every piece of hair was being brutally ripped out at the same time. I shoved an arm back behind me and touched the taser blindly to my attacker then pressed the trigger.

His hand instantly loosened, and his body jolted like a live wire before falling to the ground.

That’s when all hell broke loose.

A shiny black limo rumbled through the parking lot at high speed right as I was tackled a second time by the lumberjack. We rolled on the ground until he was on top, straddling me, his knees on my upper arms pinning me.

“You fucking bitch! How dare you taze my brother! I’ll kill you!” he bellowed, his monster-sized hands squeezing my throat.

I kicked my legs, rocks flying all around as I heard yelling. Then a gunshot blast pierced the air. The lack of oxygen took over, my vision going in and out while stars flickered and blurred at the edges of my vision.

I was seconds away from losing consciousness when the vise around my neck disappeared and magical, crisp, cool air entered my lungs. I gasped greedily as hazy figures moved around me.

“Chérie?” A light tapping on my cheek made me blink several times. I was trying to stay awake…trying to stay alive. “I fear she needs medical attention,” a lilting French accent said as the blurry image of a petite woman hovered over my face. Her fingers were cool to the touch as she traced my eyebrows and cupped my cheek gently. “It is okay. You are safe. We’re going to help you,” she said, and I believed her. I recognized that voice. I’d heard it before, so I held onto that bit of safety like a lifeline.

I moaned as the various bumps, bruises, and gashes made themselves known, sending pain soaring through every inch of my body.

It hurt.

Everywhere.

“I’ve got her.” A growly, bear-like voice. Then I was lifted up into a pair of strong arms. I tried to stay awake, I really did, but as I was brought into a car and placed in the cradle of a warm embrace, my eyes became unbearably heavy. Still, as I opened and closed my eyes, all I could see was the face of a man.

Dark wavy hair that flipped and flopped around a stern expression. Eyes that were the deepest espresso brown. A beard and mustache combo that looked so soft I wanted to touch it.

I lifted my hand and pressed my fingers to his soft, full, pink lips.

“You’re beautiful,” I whispered and then promptly passed out.

Chapter 2

A Christmas Miracle

BRUNO

I paced the halls of the hospital, waiting to hear something about the blonde stranger we happened upon on our way to the hotel from the private airstrip. I didn’t even know how Alana Toussaint, otherwise known asMadam Alana,had conned me into this gig. Security management for the very private, very sought after Christmas Auction she held once a year was not my typical contract. If it wasn’t for my cousin, Joel, demanding I accept the job on behalf of the Castellanos’ good name, I’d be somewhere in the Maldives, hunting down an art thief that had stolen a priceless artifact from another one of my clients.

How a person could put themselves up for a marriage auction to the highest bidder for a period of three years was outrageous to me. Even more shocking was the price tag these candidates went for. No less than three mil a bid, with most of these individuals going for far higher. Hell, even my cousin Joel found his beloved wife, Faith, through this process. And what a shitshow that was. Kidnappings, mafia, a gunfight, exploding planes, not to mention the dozens of lives lost in that battle was not a situation I wanted to relive.

Whatever happened to meeting someone the old-fashioned way? See a cute girl from across the room, buy said girl a drink, andvoila, you’ve got the start of something. Then again, if that worked, I’d be married a dozen times already. Yet, I wasn’t the target audience for marriage. I never planned on gettingmarried. It wasn’t that I was opposed to a forever type of love, it’s just that particular concept didn’t fit in with my lifestyle. Commitment wasnotmy thing. Which is why I hadn’t been in a “relationship” with a woman other than the occasional bar hookup, in a solid decade. And at thirty-four, my options of changing that weren’t looking any brighter.

I loved my work more than the idea of love. Perhaps it’s because I haven’t ever been in love. The type of woman I could truly fall for would have to be one in a billion. She’d have to be self-sufficient and prefer to spend more time on her own than with her partner. The work I did often took me all over the world for extended periods of time. It wasn’t conducive to what society considered a marriage between lovers.

My company was a hundred-million-dollar elite security service that wasn’t for the faint of heart or people with slim pocketbooks. Contracting with my outfit was designed for individuals that carried around shiny black Amex cards with no limits. Not to mention the high-risk environment I often found myself in. For example, the last job I was on had me working with the Latin Mafia to take down a Russian mobster who’d killed several innocents connected to friends of mine.

What woman could handle the type of man who had a job that often required the skills needed by an ex-military special operative?

Not a single woman I’d ever met.

“She’s waking up,” Alana called out, waving me over.

I wasn’t even sure why I was still here. Alana, her driver, and I had already given our statements to the authorities regarding the two guys that had attacked the sleeping beauty. There really wasn’t anything more for me to do, yet I moved one foot in front of the other to the entrance of the hospital room as though tethered to the woman. Ineededto ensure her safety. Seeing her bruised and battered by a couple of assholes broke somethinginside of me wide open I didn’t know how to explain. And I certainly wasn’t prepared to dig any deeper into my psyche at that moment. I’d leave that bit of self-reflection for when I was alone with a glass of whiskey firmly clutched in my hand.

Alana was already by the woman’s bedside, her hand on the stunning blonde’s forearm, keeping clear of her bandaged palms. Sure, I’d noticed how damn gorgeous the stranger was. She’d passed out in my arms for chrissake. What was I to look at beside her unique features? High cheekbones, full pink lips, long slim nose, perfectly arched wheat-colored eyebrows that matched the long golden locks of her hair. But none of that prepared me for the combination of all of that paired together with the most serene, warm, brown eyes. They reminded me of the desert first thing in the morning, the earthy color striking against her skin tone.

“Holly, dearest, are you well? Shall I get the doctor?” Alana asked in that eloquent French lilt of hers that made people with the harshest of personalities and a chip on their shoulder relax at the comforting sound.

Holly.

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