I Kissed A Playboy (2 page)

Chapter Three

Faith wasn’t sure why she was nervous. She hadn’t even been aware of her anxiety until her grip on her twin’s hand caused him to yelp in pain. Glancing down she saw his face contorted in pain.

‘What’s wrong?’ he hissed not unkindly.

‘I put myself up for auction.’

‘What for like a date or something?’

‘Kind of.’

Gabriel roared with laughter. Faith yanked her hand from his, stalking towards the bar. He rolled after her in his wheelchair.

‘Oh calm down Faith. It’s very un-you that’s all.’

‘I know that, but I could do with support not ridicule.’

Gabe’s face softened immediately.

‘I wasn’t making fun of you. I know why you’re doing this and I’m grateful. I was trying to lighten the mood.’

Having grabbed two glasses of champagne, Faith led them to the table containing their name-cards. She slumped in her seat.

‘Faith, it won’t be that bad.’

‘No one will bid for me,’ she mumbled at the ceiling.

‘Don’t be silly. You look sensational.’

‘Gabe, I’ve done my own, hair and make-up and my dress is something I bought in the local mall.’

‘Exactly. All those women have paid a fortune to be preened and pampered and they don’t hold a candle to you. The men will be fighting to bid. It’s the other girls up for auction that should be feeling threatened.’

Faith studied her brother’s face. As twins they shared many features. Both had pale skin, but Gabriel was more freckled than Faith. His hair was a rich auburn as opposed to Faith’s fire-engine red hair. Their eyes, face shape, height and slim build were similar. The major difference was her brother was almost permanently in a wheelchair now.

Guilt swamped Faith. It was a genetic twist that had determined the fate of each twin. The strand of Muscular Dystrophy Gabriel had was down gender. Had Faith been born the same sex as her brother, doubtless she too would’ve been confined to a wheelchair. As a female though, the syndrome didn’t affect her—it was almost unheard of for women to get it. At worst she’d be a carrier of the gene which could potentially affect any male children she had. At best she was fit and healthy and it would never impact on any future family planning.

Gabriel knew what she was thinking.

‘It’s not your fault, Faith. It wasn’t Dad or Mum’s. Things happen. I’m not going anywhere for a long while yet.’

‘Let’s hope this money raised ensures it,’ she said cynically.

As the food was served, they awaited the start of the auction.

Dinner had finished and the auction was well underway when Brian arrived. His mere presence caused a ripple of excitement among the women and hushed exchanges from the men who recognized him as a valuable financial contact to add to their ever extending networks.

‘What am I doing here again?’ he murmured to his chauffeur, who he’d convinced to join him.

‘Bidding high for something.’

‘Or someone,’ concluded Brian, taking in the woman whirling on stage as men bid to take her out.

He watched a few late-thirty, early-forty women parading on the catwalk showing off everything on offer. Brian was amused by the ‘cougars’ trying to catch his eye in an attempt to elicit a bid. He had no problem bedding older women, but these desperate, over-indulged women were a turn off. They were all married and desperate for action with a stranger to relieve them from their tedious, rich, pampered, repetitive days.

That was the downside of marrying money. The loneliness of marrying a boring business man who spent all hours in the office to provide an ample income was a high price to pay for a fun-loving girl with designs on a deluxe standard of living. It was exactly that reason why at twenty-five Brian had never contemplated marriage. Any woman’s incessant whining for money and status would drain the fun from him, even if he came from old money.

Having to reside and be in the company of a selfish, shallow woman frightened him. He lived for excitement. Wives were not referred to as a ‘ball and chain’ for nothing.

‘Seen anyone worth bidding on?’ he asked his chauffeur.

‘They all look fine to me. Take your pick. Whoever you get it’ll be a winner.’

‘No urgency, then. May as well make the most of the free bar as I skipped dinner. Fancy joining me, Marcus?’

His chauffeur shook his head.

‘Nice offer, but you know I can’t. Not only because I’m on duty but I can’t drink and drive.’

Brian surveyed Marcus. He was a kind, stable man. There were situations where he wished Marcus could relax and have a drink. His set of cliquey friends concentrated on posturing and idle talk. Marcus had character, informed opinions and a gentleness to him. Wishing momentarily circumstances were different, women flew to his side as he went to the bar.

Marcus made his way through the hungry women. He waved furiously to get Brian’s attention. Having caught the signal, Brian politely excused himself.

‘Last lot of the auction,’ Marcus stated. ‘If you miss this you won’t have bid for anything. Susie gave me instructions you had to win at least one item on the auction.’

He missed hearing what the item was, but threw a hand in the air to start the bidding at $100. The room remained silent. As the auctioneer asked for further bids, preparing to declare the item sold, another hand shot up increasing the bid to $200. Brian raised his hand easily taking it to $300. Having reached $1000, whilst the item was a mystery, Brian presumed the stiff competition suggested a worthwhile prize.

Gabriel knew his sister was terrified of being the final person up for auction. He was proud that rather than cheapen herself as a date, she’d taken a stand to sell her services as a hospital volunteer to actively involve the bidder with the cause, providing them an understanding of the syndrome the gala was supporting. It had been a bold move.

He’d been crushed when only one person had bid. To save her shame he entered the auction. When he realized it was serial dater and wealthy heir Brian Porterhouse he was competing with, Gabe knew the egotistical billionaire would never allow himself to be outbid. Feeling secure in his judgment of Brian Porterhouse, he upped the stakes to make his sister the toast of the event.

Fortunately Gabriel’s astute assumptions were correct. Brian ended up paying $270,000 to have pizza with Faith and spend a week as a hospital volunteer. It was the biggest lot of the evening and he was given a standing ovation by those able to.

‘Maybe Susie was right about this charity malarkey,’ he said to Marcus.

‘Whatever the reasons, you sure have made a difference here.’

‘Bet the guy I was pitted against is furious. She must be a real stunner to get him digging down that far in his pockets.’

Marcus said nothing. He watched as men introduced themselves, shoving business cards in Brian’s hand as they shook and women hugged him, placing phone numbers written on serviettes in his breast pocket.

‘Let’s blow this joint,’ announced Brian, removing himself from the throng.

‘Sir, I think perhaps you should settle up with a check and meet your date.’

‘Marcus, they know I’ve got the money.’

‘Sir, if you don’t mind me speaking out of turn, it would look better if you at least met the lady you bid on.’

Brian hated being told what to do. His natural instinct was to rebel, but he’d had a relationship with Marcus his entire life. In fairness, Marcus rarely spoke out of turn unless it was to protect Brian.

‘Sure,’ he said affably. ‘Show me the way’.

As he was directed up the stairs onto the stage, his eyes strayed to a young man in a wheelchair with a tall, willowy girl. As she rose and turned, his blue eyes widened. Unlike the other cougars she was significantly younger, barely in her early twenties. If this was his ‘prize’, he readily accepted how the bidding had spiraled out of control. The girl appeared as if she should be on the catwalks of Milan, yet here she was chatting non-stop to a man in a wheelchair.

Consulted by the auctioneer, the woman made her way to face Brian Porterhouse.

A date with her would be fun. For the $270,000 he might even get a few extras thrown in if she was like every other woman he’d encountered thus far.

Her conduct was polite and distant, but she exuded a glowing warmth.

‘Mr. Porterhouse, thank you so much for coming. I know I speak on behalf of everyone when I say we are eternally grateful for your contribution. It’ll make such a difference in assisting those that rely on the hospital services for Muscular Dystrophy. That you chose to come on-board as a real part of the hospital’s cause is unbelievably admirable.’

Brian’s face was blank. He was relieved his olive skin didn’t permit him to blush. He had no idea of the cause of the auction, let alone what the illness she mentioned was. To avoid his ignorance, he pasted on his most charming smile, took her hand and brushed his lips across it.

‘The pleasure is all mine. Anything for a good cause.’

Faith’s heart sank. She’d caught the notorious billionaire off-guard. Clearly raising funds for her brother’s disorder had not been his number one priority in attending the gala. She reminded herself he had contributed a phenomenal sum of money and chosen to spend a week volunteering at the hospital.

‘Where and when am I taking you for dinner then?’ he asked smoothly.

It was Faith’s turn to look confused.

‘You aren’t taking me for dinner Mr. Porterhouse.’

‘Call me Brian. I don’t care what we end up doing, but it’ll be a lot easier on a first name basis.’

‘Okay Brian,’ Faith found her tongue tripping on words. ‘I’m the one taking you out for dinner.’

‘You are?’

She nodded.

‘That’s got to be a first with any woman.’

Faith laughed genuinely.

‘I suppose in your position you don’t get many women taking you out to dinner.’

‘It’s nice to know even at twenty-five I have a few first times left,’ he winked.

Shaking her head at his rehearsed flirtatious style, Faith knew she was going to be dropping two bombshells that may not sit well with the charming, dishy man in front of her.

‘I wouldn’t get overly excited, it won’t be dinner in the restaurants you’re accustomed to.’

‘I’m not afraid of roughing it.’

‘Great, because we’re going to Paulo’s Pizza.’

Faith could tell from his expression the name meant nothing to him, but he had deduced it wasn’t going to be a Michelin star Italian restaurant. Taking her in visually, Brian suspected the date was worth pursuing.

‘What day?’

‘Well, we’re due to volunteer at the hospital from 7pm – 9pm Monday to Friday. I thought we could go Monday. Perhaps have a dinner after, that way we can discuss your thoughts and opinions on the hospital or I can address any questions you have.’

Brian pursed his lips. She was the image of a Grecian goddess in her blue dress with sandals. The porcelain skin and lean figure excited him sexually but trudging round a hospital for a week wasn’t quite as appealing.

‘Why don’t we shake things up? Go traditional. I’ll take you out for dinner, then pass you the check for the big bucks.’