"I wouldn't put it past her. Don't worry. She'll be banned from entering the building from now on."

"Hey, look at the bright side. If she bids on you, at least it'll put to rest all the rumors about you sexually harassing her."

So much for the weight she'd lost. Between her gourmet lunch in Manhattan and this surf and turf dinner, she'd be lucky if she didn't gain all eight pounds back by morning.

It was amazing she'd been able to eat at all after Jordan's teasing proposition. If she thought for one second he was serious about providing stud services, she wouldn't have been able to swallow a bite. The idea of having his child was too tempting. Except, she didn't just want a father for her baby-she wanted a husband, too.

Sighing, she pushed away her half-eaten plate of Tiramisu. When they'd arrived at their table earlier, she'd discovered that, in addition to Edward, her grandmother, and Bryce, Kurt Preston and his wife had joined their party with their daughter, Susan. Hannah had learned while talking to Mr. Preston at the board meeting that his daughter would be turning twenty-one in a few weeks.

"So, Hannah, did you see the hunks Mr. Calder lined up for the auction?" Susan asked. "Their pictures and bios are all posted on the wall."

"No, I haven't had a chance to look at them."

Bryce grinned at her. "You should go pick out a date before the auction starts. You don't want to win a bid on a guy and then discover you preferred another one later on."

"Maybe I'll choose two or three."

"Believe me,"-Jordan pursed his lips in a smug smile-"even with the raise I gave you, you can't afford one."

"Sure I can." Hannah pulled his grandfather's blank check from her bodice and snapped it in front of Jordan's face. "Edward told me to spend as much as I want as long as I don't bid more than five hundred over the highest offer."

"He gave that to you so you could bid on me."

Her stomach flip-flopped at the possessive glint flaring in Jordan's eyes. If there were any chance he wanted her for more than just a romp in the hay, she'd shred the check into confetti.

"Not necessarily," Edward cut in. "She can buy an evening with whomever she likes-or several men for that matter."

"It's customary for a woman to bid on her date," Jordan told her.

"Oh, but I'm not really your date, am I?" She tucked the check back into her dress, taking pleasure at seeing the flames of jealousy leap in his sapphire gaze. "I'm just....how'd you put it last night on the phone? Filling in?"

"Hannah,"- Ruth clucked her tongue -"you don't know a thing about those men. And you don't need to buy a date with more than one of them."

"Leave the girl alone, Ruth." Edward put his arm around Hannah's grandmother. "Every one of the fellows in the auction is a successful, law-abiding man, and your granddaughter is old enough to decide for herself who to date."

Hannah grinned sideways at Jordan, gloating. He thought she looked like a hussy tonight, did he? Well, he'd seen nothing yet. If she had to wear the name, she might as well play the game.

"You just have fun." Edward winked at her.

"Oh, believe me, I fully intend to."

Jordan gnashed his teeth every time Hannah lifted her hand. To her credit, he'd never seen the prices go so high at the auction in previous years. She just kept raising the other women's offers. She had an uncanny knack for knowing exactly how far she could push her opposition toward their limit before dropping out of the bidding.

Edward adjusted the microphone at the podium which was only a few yards from their table. "Our fifth bachelor tonight is quarterback Steve Banks, one of the NFL's first round draft picks this year."

"Oh, man." Susan rolled her eyes. "Is he beautiful or what? Look at those dimples."

"Do I hear five hundred?" Edward asked.

Hannah put up her hand again, and Jordan's nails bit into his palms.

Another woman raised the bid to eight hundred.

"Come on, Mr. Preston," Hannah called across the table. "You wanted to know what to buy your little girl for her birthday. There's what she wants-a muscular mass of male pulchritude."

"Oh, daddy, would you?" Susan pouted at her father.

"I'm not buying my daughter a date with some overeager jock-regardless of his percentage of completed passes."

Obviously overhearing, Edward chuckled. "Those completed passes are only on the football field, Kurt. Steve is a complete gentleman."

The crowd laughed at his pun.

"Puleeeze, daddy." Susan batted her baby blues at him.

"Ohhh, all right, already." Preston raised the bid. "One thousand."

"Fourteen hundred," Hannah shouted.

"Fifteen, and that's my final bid," Preston countered, inspiring a crowd of male bidders.

All over the ballroom, men began buying dates with lawyers, doctors, athletes, and successful executives for their nieces, daughters, and sisters. The men's competitive nature pushed the bids even higher than any of the women previously considered offering, and each time, Hannah jumped in toward the end, squeezing a few more dollars out of them.

"Finally, our last bachelor is my grandson, Jordan Calder, CEO of Calder Pharmaceutical." Edward leaned into the microphone. "Confidentially, ladies, he's worth a bundle." The entire room roared with laughter. Jordan sauntered up to the podium and stood next to his grandfather. "Also," Edward added, "I'm hoping one of you beautiful ladies will capture his heart and convince him to give me some great-grandchildren."

"Knock it off," Jordan growled past his gritted teeth.

"Okay, since we all know what a fine catch my grandson is, we're going to start the bidding at one thousand."

He heaved a sigh and pasted a smile on his face. Damn, but he hated this. It would almost be worth getting hitched just so he wouldn't have to do this every year.

The bidding turned fast and furious, and soon the price on his head rose to nineteen hundred dollars, more than any of the other men had brought in.

And Hannah's bidding hand remained in her lap.

"Come on ladies," she cheered, "I've balanced Jordan's checking account. Believe me, he'll blow a wad on you."

The rivalry for the pleasure of his company finally dwindled to three determined women, none of whom he wanted to spend fifteen minutes with-let alone an entire evening.

The first lady looked as if she'd applied her make-up with a trowel, the second woman laughed like Woody Woodpecker-and the third bidder was none other than Renee.

Hannah covered her mouth, stifling an exaggerated yawn.

What was she waiting for, damn it?

The hesitation between Tammy Fae Baker and Woody's bids grew longer and longer until finally Renee shouted, "Twenty-five hundred dollars!"

When Hannah shoved back her chair and then strolled toward the exit, silence settled over the ballroom.

Where the hell was she going?

A smug smile crept over Renee's face.

"Do I hear twenty-six?" Edward shrugged at Jordan and muttered, "I'm sorry. I don't have a choice. Twenty-five-fifty?" His grandfather glanced around the room, raising his gavel. "Okay. Going....going...."

Jordan bellowed across the ballroom. "Hannah!"

Chapter 11.

re*tal*i*ate v. 1. To return like for like, especially evil for evil. To pay back (an injury) in kind.

If all is truly fair in love and war, then a little retaliation can't be unjust.

"Ohhh-all right!" Hannah huffed and spun around. "Since you're my boss, three thousand!"

Jordan blew out the breath he'd been holding. Damn, but she was infuriating-sweet and sassy, and completely adorable.

Edward slammed the gavel on the podium before Renee could raise the bid, and the room erupted with laughter. "Sold for three thousand to the beautiful lady at the back of the room."

Jordan shook his head. All his life, the world had kowtowed to him for fear of offending a man with his wealth and position. The only one who'd ever had the nerve to put him in his place was his grandfather. And then Hannah came along.

Edward raised his voice above the crowd's deafening applause. "And by the way, Hannah, I'd like at least two great-grandchildren, a boy and a girl."

Jordan trained his gaze on Edward and covered the microphone with his hand. "You've heard of patricide, old man? Well, I'm thinking of skipping a generation."

"Fine, but could you wait until tomorrow to murder me? Ruth's had a long day, and Robert's not returning for us for another half hour. Let me have your keys. You can take Hannah home in the limo."

"Why? With this mob, by the time the valet brings the car, Robert will be here."

"I know. But it'll take you almost an hour round-trip to take Hannah home. And you look too tired to drive."

In grandfather-speak, that meant Edward doubted Jordan was sober enough to get behind the wheel. "Gramps, I'm fine."

"I'd still like you to go with Robert."

Jordan peered at his grandfather. The old fox was up to something. "Ruth told me her house is only a few minutes from Hannah's. Why don't I take them both home in the limo and save you the trip?" He could use a chaperone after trying to keep his eyes off Hannah's cleavage all evening. There'd been a few moments when he'd been sure her breasts would pop right out of her come-hither dress.

His grandfather wiggled his eyebrows. "Who said I was taking Ruth to her home?"

"Ohhh?" Jordan curled his mouth in a wry smile. "I thought the house rules prohibited sleepover dates?"

"They do. But it's my house-my rules. I can change them any time I feel like it. And tonight, I feel like it."

After twenty-two years, it was about time.

"Ruth told me she loves baseball, so I'm taking her to the Philly's game tomorrow."

What the hell. Jordan chuckled. If he didn't have to drive, he could stay and have another drink and dance a little more with Hannah. He definitely wasn't about to hurry home and put a crimp in his grandfather's seduction plans.

He handed Edward his keys and the valet claim ticket for the Lamborghini. "Remember, Gramps, your night vision isn't what it used to be. Keep it under eighty."

"Oh, thank you." Susan flung her arms around Hannah's neck once she returned to the table. "Daddy never would've bid on Steve for me if it weren't for you."

"Glad I could be of assistance."

Kurt Preston shook Hannah's hand. "Someone with your business acumen and negotiating skills should be running her own company, young lady." He handed her his business card. "If you're interested in making that gourmet cookie venture a reality, call me. I'm sure I can round up a few other investors to help back you. I know Edward would throw some capital your way."

Chuckling, she glanced up at the stage where Jordan was handing Edward a set of keys. "After the stunt I just pulled, I might very well need my own company."

"I'm not kidding. During the board meeting, your grasp of finance impressed me. This is a bona fide offer, so promise you'll think it over. I wrote my home number on the back, so you won't have to call during the day from the office."

"Okay. I appreciate your vote of confidence." Chuckling, she waved goodbye to his wife and Susan. The laughter died in her throat when she caught Renee glowering at her from across the ballroom.

"You were masterful," Bryce murmured in her ear and handed her a milky-looking drink.

"Thank you. What's this?"

"A Shuddering Orgasm."

"Oooh. I've never had one of those."

"Let's hope you're referring to the drink and not the real thing." Bryce laughed.

She stifled a snort. Unfortunately not.

"It's Irish cream, amaretto, and Kahla. The bartender promised me you'd like it better than sex."

Sipping the cold, creamy concoction, Hannah closed her eyes and moaned. "Mmmm....I do."

"Then obviously you've been with the wrong man," Jordan whispered in her ear from behind her.

His warm breath tickled her neck, making her shiver. "Maybe." She clinked her glass against the amber-filled one in his hand. "I guess I'll have to keep looking until I find the right one."

Jeff Burton, the vice president of Marketing, strolled up. "Hannah, how about dinner one night next week?"

She stared up at Jordan and nibbled on her lower lip. This was the fourth guy who'd asked her out that evening. "I'm sorry, Jeff. I'd love to, but I can't make any plans until I know when the date I just bought wants to-uhh-fulfill his obligation."