THE BACHELOR AUCTION
By Rachel Van Dyken
Release Day: Oct 4, 2016
Book Description:
Cinderella never had to deal with this crap.
Jane isn’t entirely sure that Cinderella got such a raw deal. Sure, she had a rough start but didn’t she eventually land a prince and a happily-ever-after? Meanwhile, Jane is busy waiting on her demanding, entitled sisters, running her cleaning business, and . . . yep, not a prince in sight. That is, until a party and a broken shoe incident leave Jane wondering if princes—or at least, a certain deliciously hunky billionaire—maybe do exist.
Except Brock Wellington isn’t anyone’s dream guy. A prince would never agree to be auctioned off in marriage to the highest bidder. Or act like an arrogant jerk—even if that is just a façade. Now, as Brock is waiting for the auction chopping block, he figures it’s karmic retribution that he’s tempted by a sexy, sassy woman he can’t have. But while he and Jane may not get a fairy tale ending, maybe they can indulge in a little bit of fantasy . . .
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Excerpt:
Thick wavy auburn hair fell in disarray over his
forehead. It was lush, shiny, perfect. Were guys born with hair like that? Or
was his somehow chemically engineered? His full lips pressed together in a
secret smile as the equally handsome man next to him said something, then
erupted in laughter.
The first man stiffened, then shook his head. His
broad shoulders seemed to grow tight as a drum. A slight tic in his jaw was the
only clue that he was irritated or maybe outright angry.
And then his shoulders slumped as he was handed
another drink and then another.
Nervous. He must be nervous. But what could a man
like that possibly have to be nervous about?
He easily towered over most of the men in
attendance. Suddenly his posture changed, then he smiled.
Jane felt her mouth drop open in shock.
Dazzling.
He was…like a duke or a lord or a prince from a
storybook. Clearly, she read too many romance novels, but his entire presence
demanded attention; screamed authority, importance, and sex. Lots and lots of
sex.
Yes, his virility was a tangible thing, as if she
could reach out and grasp it with her fingertips.
“What are you doing?” Esmeralda yelled in her
right ear, interrupting her blatant sexual fantasy about a complete stranger.
Great. That’s what her life had come to. And sadly? It was the most fun she’d
had all night.
Jane turned to Esmeralda, prayed for patience, and
answered. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”
“You’re so boring.” Esmeralda rolled her eyes. “No
wonder you got dumped.”
Another fun fact? Esmeralda was mean when she was
drunk.
The reminder of the breakup burned like acid.
It had been a year ago, not that it mattered. It
still hurt that the last guy she’d dated had told her that although she was
cute, she wasn’t really doing it for him anymore.
Right. Doing it.
Maybe that was because she hadn’t done anything for
him or with him, and he found that
lacking. But they’d only dated for a few weeks. Did normal girls do that? Put
out after a few weeks? Apparently.
She wasn’t normal.
But if that was normal, maybe she was better off
being strange.
“Jane, are you even listening to me?” Esmeralda
whined. “Essence needs you to dance next to her for a bit. I’m tired and tipsy.
I want to sit. Plus your dress blends in enough that it won’t take attention
away from her.”
No way. What? What had she just said?
Jane wrapped her arms around her middle. “I’m
sorry, what?”
Without warning, Esmeralda grabbed Jane’s hand and
jerked her toward the dance floor, causing Jane to lose her footing and crash
directly into Esmeralda’s back. Then, like a domino, she slammed back into
Essence.
Jane opened her mouth to shout out an apology, but
Esmeralda was already too drunk to listen to reason. With determination in her
eyes, she reached for the pearls at Jane’s neck but grabbed the fabric of the
dress instead.
Her poorly sewn dress ripped instantly, causing
the fabric to slink past her strapless bra. A diagonal slit split up her thigh
almost all the way to her hip. In an effort to cover herself, she took a step
and tripped, thanks to her clunky shoes.
And then she fell to the floor.
Hard.
Her sisters watched in horror—but neither of them
offered a hand. They were probably kicking themselves for forcing her to come.
Esmeralda leaned over but missed Jane’s shoulder by a mile, grabbing her hair
and giving it a tug, which only made Jane wince harder.
Both sisters were completely tanked.
And she was less than two minutes away from being
trampled by the other sweaty bodies around her.
She glanced up.
And into the eyes of the man she’d just been
lusting after.
Oh God, the humiliation was complete.
That one glance told her he’d seen it all. She
swallowed back the thickness building in her throat. Of course the only time
he’d notice her would be when she’d ripped her dress and nearly took out a few
guests on her way down to the dance floor.
The crowd gathered around her.
And the sexy man disappeared—probably off in
search of a girl with perfect hair, perfect teeth, perfect clothes.
She really
should have stayed home.
Tears filled her eyes as a heel pressed into her
right hand. With a jerk she tugged her hand free, struggling to get up to stand
on her wobbly feet, when suddenly she was pulled to a standing position and
then swept up in strong arms.
Jane’s eyes were still so blurry from unshed tears
she couldn’t make out the man’s face as he carried her out of the crowd.
He smelled like heaven.
She fought the insane urge to press her face
against his chest and just…close her eyes.
Because he felt safe.
Pathetic, when a stranger’s arms provided more
safety than her own family. And yet he felt…right.
In a world where things for the past ten years had
felt so wrong.
He felt right.
Maybe she’d had too much champagne.
About the Author:
Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!
Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866!
You can connect with her on Facebook www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken or join her fan group Rachel's New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com .
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