Bachelor-Auction Bridegroom Read online

  “I—I want you to be my husband.”

  T.J. choked on his lemonade. “Say again?”

  Emily swallowed hard and squared her shoulders. “I said I want you to be my husband.”

  T.J. blinked. If she’d announced a meteor was hurtling toward earth and was about to land at his feet, he couldn’t have been more surprised. Either he was a victim of sunstroke or a stranger had asked him to be her husband!

  “You’ve got the wrong man. You’ll have to find someone else to give you a wedding ring.”

  “Wait! I only intended to ask you to pretend to be my husband. And only for one day.”

  “The answer is no, not for five minutes, let alone one day.” Red-blooded man that he was, T.J. might have given Emily Holmes his attention, all right, but she wasn’t going to have him for a husband, no matter how tempting she looked in that wisp of a dress she was wearing….

  Dear Reader,

  This month, Harlequin American Romance delivers your favorite authors and irresistible stories of heart, home and happiness that will surely leave you smiling.

  TEXAS SHEIKHS, Harlequin American Romance’s scintillating continuity series about a Texas family with royal Arabian blood, continues with His Shotgun Proposal by Karen Toller Whittenburg. When Abbie Jones surprised Mac Coleman with the news of her pregnancy, honor demanded he give her his name. But could he give his shotgun bride his heart?

  Another wonderful TOTS FOR TEXANS romance from bestselling author Judy Christenberry is in store for you this month with Struck by the Texas Matchmakers, in which two children in need of a home and several meddling ladies play matchmakers for a handsome doctor and a beautiful lawyer. Harlequin American Romance’s theme promotion, THE WAY WE MET…AND MARRIED, about marriage-of-convenience romances, begins this month with Bachelor-Auction Bridegroom by Mollie Molay. And old passions heat up in Leandra Logan’s Family: The Secret Ingredient when Grace North’s first crush, now a single father, returns to town with his precocious little girl and ends up staying under the heroine’s roof.

  Enjoy this month’s offerings and come back next month for more stories guaranteed to touch your heart!

  Wishing you happy reading,

  Melissa Jeglinski

  Associate Senior Editor

  Harlequin American Romance

  BACHELOR-AUCTION BRIDEGROOM

  Mollie Molay

  “For Jennifer Walsh, thank you. Here’s to a great future!”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  After working for a number of years as a logistics contract administrator in the aircraft industry, Mollie Molay turned to a career she found far more satisfying—writing romance novels. Mollie lives in Northridge, California, surrounded by her two daughters and eight grandchildren, many of whom find their way into her books. She enjoys hearing from her readers and welcomes comments. You can write to her at Harlequin Books, 300 East 42nd St., 6th Floor, New York, NY 10017.

  Books by Mollie Molay

  HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE

  560—FROM DRIFTER TO DADDY

  597—HER TWO HUSBANDS

  616—MARRIAGE BY MISTAKE

  638—LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON

  682—NANNY & THE BODYGUARD

  703—OVERNIGHT WIFE

  729—WANTED: DADDY

  776—FATHER IN TRAINING

  779—DADDY BY CHRISTMAS

  815—MARRIED BY MIDNIGHT

  839—THE GROOM CAME C.O.D.

  879—BACHELOR-AUCTION BRIDEGROOM

  BACHELOR #46

  Name:

  T. J. Kirkpatrick

  Age:

  33

  Hair:

  Blond

  Eyes:

  Blue

  Occupation:

  Building restorer. Can also be persuaded to masquerade as a pretend husband for a distressed beauty left in the lurch by his look-alike younger brother. Any job—or wife—he accepts gets his full attention!

  Best Qualities:

  Muscled shoulders. A willingness to break the rules now and again and to respond to the burgeoning chemistry with his pretend spouse makes him irresistible.

  Weaknesses:

  Beautiful women…one in particular!

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  The auctioneer called for a minimum bid of one hundred dollars. A timid voice at the front of the room echoed the bid. Emily raised her hand and shouted, “One hundred and twenty-five!”

  “He’s mine,” a voice at the back of the room yelled enthusiastically. “Two hundred!”

  Emily bit her lower lip and clutched her purse. Her funds were severely limited, and she was rapidly reaching the bottom of her wallet. But time was running out, and she had to have the man. “Two hundred and twenty-five!”

  “Let’s get real here,” called her bidding rival. “The guy’s mine. I bid three hundred!” The man on the stage grinned, stuffed his hands in his pockets and winked at Emily.

  Emily blinked at the blatant invitation from Number 46. Her first reaction was to brush him off and wait for the next man. After all, she reminded herself, what she had in mind was a business arrangement, not a seduction.

  Her second and involuntary reaction surprised her. “Three hundred and fifty!”

  The man on the stage raised his eyebrows. A smile of approval curved at the corner of his lips. The crowd began to murmur and crane their necks to look at the latest bidder. Emily wanted to hide.

  The auctioneer intoned, “Going, going,” and silence filled the room. With the word “gone!” and a crack of a wooden gavel, Number 46, all six feet of him, was hers. The crowd broke into applause. Instead of being elated at her victory, Emily’s heart sank to her toes. Now what?

  Chapter One

  Number 46 watched the winning bidder slowly make her way to the stage to claim him. She appeared to be a conservatively dressed businesswoman with auburn hair, porcelain skin, and hazel eyes the color of an early morning western sunrise. She might be trying to look all business, but her short skirt and slender, shapely legs gave her away.

  Something told him that under her carefully groomed exterior was a sensuous woman. In any case, as far as he could see, she was a dream walking. His spirits perked up. Maybe being “rented” as a date for a day wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  He began to have second thoughts as she drew closer. There was something about her determined expression that telegraphed she was the type that played for keeps. The words “for keeps” weren’t even in his vocabulary, and he didn’t plan on adding them. Filled with belated misgivings at having volunteered for a bachelor auction, he fervently hoped his escort duties would be brief.

  Receipt in hand, his buyer reached his side and glanced down at the program. “Mr. Kirkpatrick?”

  He nodded politely and waited for her to identify herself. She blushed, and to his bemusement, her complexion turned a becoming shade of pink. “I’m Emily Holmes.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Miss Holmes. T. J. Kirkpatrick at your service,” he replied politely. “What did you have in mind for the two of us?”

  She blushed again.

  He gazed at her quizzically. He may have thought she looked like a dream walking, but something about her body language told him there was more behind her bidding on him than met
the eye. “You must have had something in mind when you bid for me. Right?”

  Her expression was a study in contradictions. She nodded silently. Something was definitely wrong. It began to dawn on him that maybe being auctioned off to a strange woman hadn’t been such a good idea. Not even for a charitable cause.

  He looked over her head at the cashier, who was watching them with interest. “Stay here for a minute. I’ll be right back.”

  Her hand reached out to stop him. “Where are you going?”

  The note of alarm in her voice and her grip on his arm stopped him in his tracks. “To get your money back for you. It looks to me as if you’ve changed your mind.”

  “I haven’t. It’s not what you think,” she protested when his eyes narrowed. “Could we go somewhere private and talk?”

  Private. Tim digested the idea for a minute. All of his instincts warned him he was teetering on the edge of deep waters. It was time to set the record straight. “I believe you may have made a mistake, Miss Holmes. Regardless of what this setup looks like, I’m not a professional gigolo.”

  “I’m not looking for one,” she said firmly, squaring her jaw. Sparks of anger filled her eyes. “I won you as an escort for a day fair and square, Mr. Kirkpatrick, and I intend to have you face up to your agreement.”

  His honor tested, Tim considered falling back on the alternate plan he used whenever his back was against the wall. What had started out as a joke had just lost its humor. A free spirit, the last thing he cared for was to be “won” by anyone, let alone by a woman high on looks and, if she took the auction that seriously, obviously one card short of a full deck.

  But first things first. In case he had read the lady wrong, he intended to do the honorable thing. He reached for his wallet. “Here,” he said, offering her a wad of bills. “Keep your receipt. I don’t know what you had in mind, but I’ll give you your money back myself. That way you can have an income tax deduction and your money, too.”

  “No, thank you,” she protested, backing away from his outstretched hand. “I don’t want your money. I want you. This receipt tells me you belong to me!”

  His thoughts spinning, Tim gazed at his new owner. “Belong” sounded too permanent for his peace of mind. He’d have to see to it that their date was brief and took place where they would have lots of company. After all, how much of a problem could one date be as long as he kept it public? He nodded reluctantly.

  Emily considered her prize. He was perhaps six feet tall, had brown hair streaked with gold and blue eyes that spoke of California summer skies. To add to her growing misgivings about her choice, he was decidedly too handsome for his own good.

  Fortunately, he seemed to have a sense of humor, or he wouldn’t have offered himself to the highest bidder. Maybe he thought the whole idea of being on an auction block was a hoot. She didn’t.

  He wasn’t her type, she thought as she gazed into his wary blue eyes. But nevertheless he appeared to be just the man she needed. He had to have a kind heart, or he couldn’t have allowed himself to be auctioned off for charity. She tried to ignore the uneasy feeling rushing over her. She was uncertain about her choice, but for better or worse, she was going to go with her instincts and hope for the best. Surely, the man must have a better side to him somewhere.

  “Belong to you? In what way?” her prize asked cautiously.

  “I want you to come with me and have our picture taken.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief. “If all you want is a photograph, I guess I can do that.” He straightened his tie, ran his fingers through his hair and grinned. “If you ask me, $350 for a photo seems a little high. But if it’s a souvenir you want, why not? I’m game.”

  Emily didn’t have the courage to tell him why she wanted to have her picture taken with him. Not yet, and not before she had her photograph. “Good. There’s an instant photo shop in the lobby. If you’re ready, let’s go.”

  She was pleased to see him take a deep breath and shove his hands into his pockets. “I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

  With her prize beside her, Emily took quarters out of her coin purse, poised her head carefully next to his and looked up into his eyes with a bright smile. When she was satisfied they looked like a happily married couple, she dropped in four quarters and pressed the button that gave her a husband. “There!” she said when the photographs slid out of the machine. “Just what I needed.”

  “That’s swell! By the way, thank you for your donation, Miss Holmes,” her partner said amiably as he backed out of the booth. “The foundation thanks you, too.” Before she could stop him, he waved goodbye and started out of the photo shop.

  “Wait a minute!” she called after him. “I forgot to tell you I may need you again tomorrow.”

  He swung around and stared at her. His wary expression came back. “Tomorrow? You mean the photograph wasn’t enough for you?”

  She shook her head. A guarded expression came over her face “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  He smothered a groan. His high hopes for a quick getaway dashed, Tim’s heart sank. What she wanted with him was anyone’s guess, but it looked as if she intended to get her $350 dollars worth. “Why not get whatever you have in mind over with today?”

  “Tomorrow,” she repeated firmly. She couldn’t tell him she needed one more day to go to plan number two if plan number one failed. Instead, she looked around to make sure no one could overhear her and went on to borrow the street language she’d often heard on television. “A deal is a deal. That is, if you can give a day’s work for two days’ pay.”

  He winced as if her challenge hit too close to home. “Of course I can, but to tell the truth, I’m beginning to feel like a lamb being led to slaughter.”

  “A lamb?” Her eyebrows rose as she considered the man who looked more like a rogue than a lamb. “Hardly, Mr. Kirkpatrick. You’re the furthest thing from a lamb I can think of. That’s why I wanted you.” She paused long enough for him to get the message. “And by the way, under the circumstances, you can call me Emily.”

  “Circumstances?” Instead of looking chastened, he eyed her suspiciously. “What circumstances would that be?”

  “I’ll tell you tomorrow.” She reached into her purse for a roll of the peppermints she chewed on whenever she was nervous and offered one to him.

  “No, thanks,” he answered, his mind busy working on how to swim out of muddy waters before he got in over his head. He wondered just how soon he could fall back on his tried-and-true backup plan to get out of the way of trouble. “Why tomorrow and not today?”

  “Tomorrow,” she repeated firmly, and popped a peppermint into her mouth.

  His mind was made up. Emily Holmes was not the woman for him, but he knew just whom she was for. As far as he was concerned, his meeting with Emily Holmes had been ordained. Just the thought made him feel virtuous. “Maybe I ought to give you my business card and an address where you can find me if you need me. Say around noon?”

  She took the card and carefully put it in her purse. “I’ll be there.”

  PROMPTLY AT TWELVE, Emily showed up at the address noted on the business card T.J. had given her yesterday. She checked the address against the sign in front of the building site and relaxed. T.J. Kirkpatrick, Historical Building Restoration, was a real business. Recalling the calculating look in the man’s eyes yesterday, she’d been half-afraid the card had been a fake.

  Ahead of her, four men in dusty jeans and worn T-shirts were busy rebuilding a crumbling red brick wall. A weathered sign across the front of the aging structure dated 1939 proclaimed the building to once have been a fire station. Today it looked more like a private building of some sort badly in need of repair. A dozen more men dressed in jeans, sleeveless T-shirts and helmets roamed over the site. When one man removed his hard hat and wiped his forehead, her gaze unerringly found the man she was looking for. All six feet of him.

  She was in the right place.

  He was wearing leather boots, worn jea
ns and a shirt open to his slim waist. Rolled-up sleeves revealed muscular forearms. His brow was beaded with sweat. The faint, dark shadow of a beard covered his tanned face. Clearly in charge of the operation, he was muttering to himself as he dried off his face and turned to check the efforts of the work crew.

  Yesterday at the auction, she’d decided he wasn’t her type. Today her eyes widened, and her body warmed at the sight of him.

  She’d taken their photograph to the law office yesterday afternoon as proof she was married. To her dismay, she’d been told she had to come up with the man himself.

  There was something different about the man today, she thought as she waited for him to notice her. He looked a little older, taller, a bit more muscular and, if possible, more attractive. With his sun-tanned skin and muscular chest showing under his open shirt, he didn’t look to be quite the same man. In the photograph he’d reluctantly taken with her yesterday, he’d been dressed in a tailored suit, white shirt and paisley tie. An immaculate fop.

  As a result, she’d spent a sleepless night planning this meeting and its intended outcome. Now that she was here, she was beginning to have her doubts. What she had in mind, coupled with his sexy appearance, made her wonder if she hadn’t gone overboard in her efforts to get his full cooperation. There was a problem. He was still the kind of man a woman liked to dream about, but not the kind of man a woman necessarily takes home with her. After being jilted by her too-handsome-for-his-own-good fiancé, she wasn’t going to go down that path again.

  The more she gazed at her target, the more uneasy she became. Yesterday, he’d merely been a means for her to get her inheritance. Today, judging from her physical reaction, he’d turned into a flesh-and-blood man, decidedly striking.

  His masculine appearance couldn’t be ignored, she thought. Not when his every move touched off an answering response in her.