A Diva in Manhattan: HarperImpulse Contemporary Romance. Aubrie Dionne

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      He wasn’t a conversation starter, that’s for certain. But, Alaina found his reluctance delightful. So many sleaze balls openly hit on her and this guy was playing hard to get.

      She curled her toes in her heels. A challenge. She liked that.

      “Alaina Amaldi.” She offered her hand.

      He took his hand out of his pocket. “Lance DeBarr.”

      His skin was warm and dry, his hands rough with calluses. Why would someone as rich as him have calluses?

      “So, I hear you’re on the auction block tonight.”

      He rolled his eyes. “Please, don’t remind me.”

      “Your mother put you up to it?”

      “You could say that.”

      She wiggled her eyebrows. “What are they auctioning you for?”

      Was that a blush in his cheeks? This guy was so damn cute.

      “A dinner date for two.”

      “Oh.” Had she brought the checkbook? Perhaps she’d want to make a bid. All in the name of charity, of course. She still didn’t know which charity, but that didn’t matter. “So you’re afraid one of these older ladies will buy you off and you’ll have to spend your night talking about knitting and tea?”

      He leaned in and smiled. “Maybe I like tea.”

      Was he flirting? Alaina trailed her finger across the pocket of his suit. “I’m a black tea type of gal.”

      He raised his eyebrows. “So you like it strong?”

      “Strong and dark.” Man this party was heating up. She leaned in closer. He smelled like woodsy aftershave with a hint of mint, ringing all of her pheromone bells. “How about you?”

      He touched a lock of her hair. “Red and sweet.”

      If that wasn’t an invitation, then she didn’t know what was. This night was turning out miraculously better than a naked bubble bath.

      Something behind her stole his attention. Alaina whirled around to the horror freak show that was her soprano rival, Bianca Pool.

      “Look what the conductor dragged in.” Bianca flung her bleached blonde hair over her shoulder. She wore a pink dress with an even lower neckline, revealing her assets to the point of a wardrobe malfunction. “Nice to see you again, Alaina.”

      “What are you doing here?” Alaina almost dropped her glass. “I thought you were in Germany.”

      “Altez offered me the Queen of the Night, and you know I can’t turn that role up.”

      “You are very good at being wicked.” Alaina tightened her grip on her glass. They’d be singing together. Ironically, the Queen of the night was her character’s antagonist, and antagonize her, Bianca would.

      Her rival stepped between her and Lance. “I came over to meet the famous Mr. DeBarr.” She touched his arm. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

      Lance shifted away from the two of them as if outnumbered. “What have you heard?”

      “Only that you’re the most successful stoke broker in New York. I read the article about you in Forbes last year. Your ideas for optimizing trading options are ingenious. Funny, the picture in the magazine didn’t do you justice. You look even more gorgeous in real life.”

      “Thanks.” He seemed more uncomfortable than impressed by her flattery. What a modest guy.

      Alaina opened her mouth to compliment him on his modesty when Bianca angled her body in front of her and put her hand on his chest. “I want you to know I’m going to do everything it takes to be your highest bidder.”

      Alaina gagged silently.

      “You are?” Was that fear or excitement flashing through his eyes?

      She tapped her purse. “I love donating to people in need.”

      Like hell she did. Bianca was more likely to kick a homeless man out of her way. Not that Alaina was much better, walking by them and pretending they weren’t there.

      Frustration built inside Alaina like a volcano heating up. Bianca had butted her out of the conversation. To make matters worse, Altez came over with Mrs. DeBarr on his arm. “Here she is; our new talent. Alaina, I’d like you to meet Mrs. DeBarr.”

      Alaina turned and shook her hand. “The pleasure is mine.” Beside her, Bianca had entwined her arm in Lance’s and turned him around toward the appetizers.

       Damn it!

      Alaina stifled a current of jealousy. Bianca may have won round one, but one thing was for sure. She wasn’t letting that harlot win the bid.

      ***

      As Brett talked to the blonde Barbie princess in front of him, he realized how little he knew about the stock market. The more he opened his mouth, the more he risked being found out for the poser that he was.

      “What do you suggest I invest in this month?” She twirled the strap of her purse around her fingers. Even her nails were pink.

      “With the market the way it is, it’s hard to tell.” Brett glanced around the room, distracted. Where was Alaina? When he’d first seen her at the party, he couldn’t believe his eyes. The woman from the curb had been staring at him with interest. He had to remind himself she thought he was a billion dollars richer.

      When he’d talked to her, their chemistry heated the room. He couldn’t deny the way his body pulled toward her, aching to touch her sunset hair. She smelled like roses and lavender, reminding him of the meadow beyond the log cabin.

      Even if he had to assume someone’s identity to meet her, the embarrassment was totally worth it.

      Mrs. DeBarr clinked her spoon on her glass, muting everyone’s conversation. Brett turned toward the older woman with relief. The less he said tonight, the better, if he was ever going to get out of this alive.

      “I want to thank you all for coming. Your generosity will bring happiness to those in need and support this wonderful opera in the process. Let’s see this partnership of Project Wish and the Metropolitan Opera Fund flourish, and let’s have some fun in the process. We begin tonight with our first annual auction.”

      As the crowd applauded, nervous jitters spiraled through him. He wasn’t used to being the center of attention, never mind the grand prize of a million dollar auction. He had to remind himself this was for a charity he believed in, a charity he probably needed himself.

      But, Brett would never take handouts. If he had to work extra hours to rebuild his life, so be it.

      A man with white hair which stuck up like weeds introduced himself as Altez Vior and escorted Brett to a backroom. He was supposed to sit and wait for his turn while they started with smaller prizes like vintage wine and chocolate.

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