After a short drumroll from the band, the emcee, Lance Wocek, stepped forward. âHereâs our own beautiful Katherine Ransome,â he announced, taking her hand, âtalented artist, successful businesswoman and stunning bachelorette.â
Smiling into the ring of bright spotlights on Fort Worthâs Oak Hill Country Clubâs impromptu stage, Katherine waved to no one in particular. The patrons in tuxes and designer dresses made a ritzy gala of the elegant charity benefit for homeless children. Katherine was in sympathy with the cause, but she wished again that she had written a check instead of participating herself.
âGentlemen, for an evening with the charming and beautiful Miss Ransome, what am I bid?â Lance asked. âWhoâll start the bidding?â
âOne thousand dollars,â called a male voice and guests applauded. Trying to gaze beyond the lights, Katherine looked at a blur of faces turned in her direction, probably men she had known all her life.
âOne thousand dollars! Good start! What am I bid?â Lance asked, circling and smiling at his audience.
âTwo thousand,â a man called, and she recognized local attorney Wes Trentwoodâs voice. She was glad men were bidding, remembering her brothers teasing her that no one would bid because she had been so cool in the past to the local males. So far, between the two bidders, she preferred an evening with Wes to anyone else.
âTwo thousand dollars,â Lance repeated. âWe have a bid of two thousand dollars. Whoâll make it three thousand for an evening with one of the most gorgeous ladies in the county?â
âThree thousand,â came another bid that was raised immediately to four.
âI bid five hundred thousand dollars,â a deep male voice said.
While an audible gasp rippled through the room, heads turned. Stunned that anyone would pay so much for an evening with her, Katherine peered in the direction of the voice.
As she watched, a man stood and applause broke out over his bid. He threaded his way between the tables of onlookers. Unable to distinguish his features because of the lights, Katherine could see his black hair and broad shoulders. He wasnât local, yet something about him struck a chord of familiarity. She could only stare in amazement, and then she reminded herself the money went to a good cause and his bid was a magnanimous donation.
As he approached the stage, even though she couldnât see him well because of the blinding lights, she discerned that he was tall and moved with the grace of a panther.
As he narrowed the distance between them, her heart thudded.
Katherineâs pulse roared in her ears. Time hung suspended while she was flung back nine years. For an infinitesimal second, everything in her cried out to throw her arms around his neck and hug him. He stood as still as she, and the electricity jumping between them made her wonder why flames didnât scorch the air.
Her brain began to function, and the moment was gone. Longing vanished, replaced by surprise.
Dressed in a black tux and a snowy white shirt, he stopped in front of her and looked at her solemnly. âYouâre more beautiful than ever.â
She knew his voice, knew the pitch and timbre, knew his brown eyes. Even if he had changed in appearance and manner, his voice was the same and sent tingles spiraling through her as if he had touched her.
Dismayed, she gazed at him while her head spun and her heart pounded, drowning out all noise. For an instant she thought she would faint.
âCade,â she whispered. Cade Logan, the man she had planned to marry was standing in front of her, close enough for her to touch. It was her first time to see him in nine long years, since the week before their wedding.
Lance spoke to Cade or to her. She had no idea which one. Someone called Lanceâs name and he excused himself, leaving without either one of them answering him.
She was held in a gaze that shut off the rest of the world. Nine years ago and suddenly, here Cade was standing before her. She had thought about this occasion over and over again, and played multiple versions of it in her mind. Now that it was actually happening, she was unprepared, and the moment wasnât like anything she had rehearsed in her fantasies.
Everything in her screamed a protest. And deep down, most disturbing of all, her first thought was, he was too handsome for words. She had a response to him that she despised, yet could not control. Her reaction rocked her because she had thought she was over him long ago and immune to ever seeing him again. There was nothing resistant in her system. Every nerve was raw; the beat of her heart was faster.
He stood holding out his hand to her. She moved automatically, going through the motions without thinking about them, numb as she offered her hand. His warm hand enveloped hers in a surprisingly gentle shake, and the moment they touched, an electric jolt went to her toes.