Free The Billionaire Date by Leigh Michaels

chance to think.
    She raised her voice and cut across the chatter. “Are there any questions for Mr. Webster?” She stepped back from the podium, her bright smile inviting him to take over.
    The look he gave her promised reprisals later.
    â€œWhat’s the date?” a reporter called.
    â€œOf the auction?” Jarrett said. “The fifteenth of this month. Twelve days from today, to be precise. Or do you mean the date I’m offering?” He shook his head. “Sorry, but Ms. Deevers won’t let me tell you that. She says she doesn’t know, but really she wants to keep it as a surprise so she can sell more tickets.”
    Kit’s jaw dropped in reluctant admiration. The man was fast on his feet, that was sure.
    â€œAnd I think she’s being far too modest,” he went on. “She’s only talked about me. She hasn’t told you a thing about all the other bachelors she’s lined up to take part in this great cause. Perhaps you’d like to do that right now, Kit?”
    He stepped back just a little, every line of his body an invitation for her to share the podium. Kit’s feet felt as if they were mired in molasses.
    â€œYou do have others?” he asked gently. “Not just me?”
    â€œOf course,” Kit said. “I didn’t want to take attention from your premier position. In fact, I’ll be making announcements throughout the week, as more sign on—so, as they say, stay tuned. Thank you all very much for coming.”
    Chairs scraped. The noise level increased as reporters paused to chat to one another. A couple headed for the front of the room.
    Jarrett cupped a hand over the microphone. “One would think you were anxious to get rid of all these nice people,” he observed. “I wonder why.”
    Kit didn’t answer.
    â€œAnd you’ve cut your time even shorter, too. Are you eager to have all this behind you?”
    â€œOf course not.” Kit’s voice was tart. “I’m having such a lot of fun.”
    â€œI must say I’m disappointed about giving up the raffle idea, though. The effort I wasted on turning a few scraps of black lace into a design suitable for you...”
    She glared at him.
    A smile tugged at the corner of Jarrett’s mouth. “Kit, dear,” he murmured, “where on earth did you get the idea that I’m not a good sport? Oh, yes—this is going to be fun.”
    Â 
    Kit arrived at work early the next morning, but she didn’t even get through the front door of Tryad’s brownstone before she was greeted by a chorus. Alison leaped from the bottom step, waving a newspaper. “Are you crazy?” she almost shrieked. “A bachelor auction’s bad enough, but dragging Jarrett Webster in on it, and making yourself look like a fool—”
    From her perch on the marble-topped radiator in the little alcove near the door, Susannah asked, “Can’t you think of a more interesting question than that, Ali? I want to know if you’re planning to bid on him yourself, Kit.”
    â€œWhy would I want him?” Kit closed the door and leaned against it.
    â€œWhy else would you set up this whole affair?”
    â€œBecause I’m an idiot,” Kit said.
    â€œYou can say that again,” Alison muttered. “Do you know what this makes Tryad look like?”
    â€œA dating service?” Susannah asked brightly.
    â€œNo. That one was your idea.”
    â€œAnd it wasn’t a bad one, either.”
    Alison ignored her. “What got into you, Kit?”
    Kit took a deep breath. “I didn’t have any choice about involving Jarrett. It’s sort of a bet. I have to raise ten thousand dollars for his favorite charity—”
    Susannah leaned forward. “Or what do you lose?”
    â€œHas it occurred to you, Sue,” Alison said tartly, “that we may not want to hear the answer to that