And, in spite of feeling decidedly prejudiced against the man on the stage, Georgia had to admit that even ‘gorgeous’ was rather too restrained a term to describe someone like him. It implied the sort of conventional, almost pretty-boy looks that turned actors into movie stars. Lucas Mallory had features that were too strong, a bone-structure that was too harsh for such a glamorous appeal.

But when those strong-boned looks were teamed with hair that gleamed like polished jet and eyes that seemed, from this distance at least, to be almost equally dark, the impact this man had was like a blow to the soul. With square, powerful shoulders and a tall, leanly muscular frame that carried not even an ounce more in weight than when he had earned his living as a trained sportsman, then ‘devastating’ was probably far nearer the mark.

And he was absolutely perfect for what she wanted. He was all male, a modern day macho hero to his fingertips, and a self-made man as well. Oh, yes, her father would love Lucas Mallory.

‘Any more? Would anyone like to raise.?’

Coming back to reality with a sense of shock, Georgia realised that she had been preoccupied for far longer than she had imagined. Already the bidding had slowed, the price having reached a total at which most of the interested parties had had to drop out. It was time to make a move.

‘Going once.going twice.’

Georgia raised her hand. Her action caused a buzz of interest from the audience, who had believed the sale to be almost over.

‘And a hundred,’ she said firmly.

For a couple of minutes she had a battle on her hands. One determined woman on the other side of the room matched each increase she made, but then, reluctantly, she had to drop out, shaking her head regretfully.

‘Sold!’ The gavel came down on the table with a bang. ‘Sold to Georgia Harding—you lucky thing! Please see Emily to pay, Georgie.’

Smiling to herself in satisfaction, Georgia got to her feet just as Lucas Mallory’s dark eyes scanned the room, seeking out the person who had finally bought twenty-four hours of his time. As that alert, intent gaze rested on her for a moment some uncharacteristic imp of mischief urged her into action. Picking up her wine glass, she raised it in a mocking toast.

But the teasing gesture rebounded on her with a vengeance a moment later as the dark, sleek head inclined in sardonic acknowledgement of her salute. In the same instant, she saw the black eyes slide deliberately from the top of her shining red-gold head and down over her body to the smart Italian sandals whose slender, twoinch heels took her height to an impressive near six feet.

The coolly insolent survey was so blatantly sensual that she felt irritation prickle over her skin, a spark of anger flashing in her changeable eyes. From his behaviour, anyone would have thought that she was the slave and Lucas Mallory her lordly purchaser.

For a brief moment, gripped by blind fury, she was strongly tempted to declare that she had changed her mind. Let someone else put up with this man’s arrogant assumption that any female must be putty in his hands!

But then common sense reasserted itself. After all, he was perfect, and once she had handed over her money he would be hers for the twenty-four hours that she needed him. After that, she would be only too pleased to see the back of him.

She was at the treasurer’s table, signing her cheque with a firm, decisive hand, when some change in the atmosphere around her, an intuitive shiver of awareness over her skin, alerted her. She just had time to draw a deep, calming breath before the man who had come up behind her spoke.

‘Miss Harding?’

It was a very attractive voice, low and pleasant. There was nothing in it to disturb her, but all the same she felt the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck lift in nervous response. Slowly she turned to face him, switching on a smile that was pure politeness, with no real warmth in it at all.

‘Yes?’

Those eyes weren’t actually black, she realised, seeing them properly for the first time. Instead, they were the deepest grey she had ever seen, dark and spectacular, like the rest of him. Her mind registered his impressive height and powerful build with an almost shocking force that rocked her mental balance, driving away the stern warnings Kelly had given her when she had told her friend what she had planned.

‘I’m Lucas Mallory.’

Close up, the impact of that smile was even more lethal than it had been earlier. Then, its dazzling brilliance had been diluted by the distance between her seat and his position on the catwalk, but now there was no such safety device to weaken its power.

The hand he held out to her was lean and brown, its grip around her fingers disturbingly warm and strong.

Dear God, she was beginning to understand just how Kelly had felt, Georgia thought. Her head was swimming as she fought against the stunning sensual response that seared through her whole body. It was as if she had put her hand onto a live electric wire and been badly burned as a result.