Bachelor at Her Bidding (Bachelor Auction Book 2) by Kate Hardy Page B

marriage bed. A bed of betrayal.
    She’d gone into the bathroom to throw up. When she came out again, Nick was standing there. Fully dressed. And the woman had gone, though the cloying perfume she’d worn still hung in the air.
    “Who is she?” Rachel had demanded.
    “Esme.”
    Two syllables that had brought Rachel’s world crashing down. She knew the name. Nick’s ex. The one she’d overheard his mother comparing her to – and not favorably.
    “I’m going back to her,” he said.
    As if Nick guessed what she was thinking – what had she done wrong? Why had he betrayed her like that? – his lip curled. “You’re not enough for me. I only dated you to get back at Esme when we had a fight.”
    She’d stared at him in shock. “But you said you loved me. You married me!”
    “I didn’t really love you. Not like I love her. And I married you on the rebound. My mistake.”
    There hadn’t been even the slightest hint of remorse, much less an apology.
    “I’ll come back for my stuff tomorrow when you’re not here,” he’d said. Then he’d walked out of their apartment and out of their marriage.
    How stupid she’d been. Falling in love with a man who didn’t love her back. Who’d seen her as a poor substitute for the woman he really loved. And she was never, ever going to make that kind of mistake again. No more relationships. No more chances of getting hurt. So she needed to be honest with Ryan Henderson right now.
    “Just so you know, I’m not looking to get involved with anyone,” she said.
    “Me, neither,” he said. “I’m assuming you know my home situation, because Marietta’s a small town and everyone knows everything about everyone.”
    Not quite everything, she hoped, but she nodded.
    “Right now I just don’t have time for a relationship. My focus is on looking after my grandmother – being there for her, the way she was for me when my parents were killed.”
    So in the end there was an easy get-out for both of them, she thought. “So we’ll, um, just pretend this didn’t happen?”
    “We’ll pretend this didn’t happen,” he agreed.
    “And we’ll be, um, friends?” She hated the way that “um” was creeping in to her sentences; she wasn’t usually this inarticulate and hesitant.
    Then again, she didn’t usually take a complete stranger into her bed and let him make her fall apart in his arms.
    “Friends,” he said. “I’d like that. I can always use a friend.” His mouth quirked again. “Even though right now I think we’re not quite in friend mode – we’re both naked, we’re in the same bed, and we have a plate of French macarons between us.”
    She remembered the way she’d smeared chocolate across his lower lip and went hot all over. She could think of other places she’d like to smear chocolate and lick it off right at that very moment, and the sudden slash of color across his face made her realize that he was thinking along the same lines.
    “We can’t,” she whispered. Even though she wanted to. Because she didn’t think she’d be able to live with herself in the morning. “Friends with benefits” wasn’t an option, not in a small town where people would notice and make comments, however well-meaning. “Ryan, would you mind turning your back while I put some clothes on again?” Which was pretty feeble of her, considering they’d both seen every square inch of each other’s skin and how he’d explored her with his mouth.
    But he was the perfect gentleman. “Of course. And I’ll get dressed, too.” He balanced the tray of coffee on her nightstand and scooped his clothes off the floor.
    When she was dressed, she turned to face him. He was dressed, too – but he looked rumpled and sexy. Anyone who saw him would know exactly what he’d just been doing. And with whom, given that everyone knew his “date” from the fundraiser was scheduled for today.
    “Sorry. I crumpled your chef’s tunic,” she said.
    “Nobody’s going to