[Jade Rousseau, the heroine, needs a fake fiancé to impress her family values employer, and there’s nary a guy in her life right now. Her girlfriends Kimberly and Amarjeet persuade her to go to the Raining Men bachelor auction, for charity. All the men come out on stage and Jade makes a list of her four top picks, all nice conservative, white-collar guys. Even though the one man who really turns her on is firefighter Quinn O’Malley. After all the men have taken their turn, it’s time to start the bidding. She’s enlisted her girlfriends to bid for her, because her boss’s wife is at the auction and Jade can’t let her see her “buying” a man she’s soon going to introduce as her fiancé.]

Cara, the red-dressed emcee, took the stage. “Thanks again to all these wonderful, handsome, amazing bachelors who have participated in the auction. It’s easy to give a little money to charity, but these men have gone above and beyond. They’re giving their time – their brains and muscles and charm – for tonight’s valuable cause. And they don’t even get a tax receipt! So let’s show them all how much we appreciate it.”

The room exploded with cheers and applause. “I’m so nervous,” I murmured to Amarjeet.

“Have faith. If it’s meant to be, then it will happen.” Her pronouncement was punctuated by a hiccup.

Cara reintroduced Justin, my first choice, and called for bids. The lights stayed on so everyone could see who was bidding. As the bids rose, I leaned past Amarjeet to whisper to Kimberly, “Shouldn’t you bid?”

“I think we should pass on Justin and figure out how things work.”

It wasn’t like her to be cautious. Had Amarjeet been talking strategy to her?

The bidding for Justin heated up, rising to over five hundred dollars, then stopped with a flashy redhead. And then it was the next bachelor’s turn. We watched until the high school teacher, my next choice, came on stage. After a couple bids, I hissed at Kimberly, “Come on!”

“Right.” She placed a bid and someone topped it. When I hissed again, she placed another, of four hundred dollars. A young brunette topped it, another bid came in, then the brunette topped that one. Amarjeet said, “Kimberly, don’t bid again. That woman’s determined. It’s not worth going high enough to win.”

“You’re right. Sorry, Jade, this isn’t your guy.” Her giggle told me she, too, was tipsy.

After another few bachelors, it was the doctor. “Bid on this one,” I reminded Kimberly.

“Have you thought seriously about his job?”

“He’s a family practitioner. What’s not to like?”

“He spends a lot of time peering up women’s vaginas,” Kimberly said, loudly enough that we both hushed her.

“It’s his job,” I said.

“But isn’t it kind of creepy?” She gave an exaggerated grimace. “Wouldn’t you feel weird, going to bed with him after he’d spent his day doing that?”

Surely doctors viewed the female bodies they saw at work in an objective, professional way. And the female body in their personal life in a completely different manner. Didn’t they?

“I heard a talk show the other day,” Kimberly said, “where some doctors said they couldn’t do gynecology or general practice because the vagina thing made them uncomfortable.”

“Well, he’s obviously not one of them.”

“No, but –”

“Moot point,” Amarjeet said, sounding almost smug. “While you two were arguing, someone else bought him.”

“Damn.” I shifted anxiously as the winner claimed a hug from the doctor. How could I have lost out on three men? “I’m down to just the civil rights lawyer. Kimberley, you have to win him.” He was an excellent candidate. Sure, I hadn’t felt enthusiastic when I’d seen him on stage, but that was only because the firefighter had me so fired up. Speaking of whom, he’d been up after the doctor . . .

And there was Quinn O’Malley, strolling across the stage with his distinctive brand of male confidence and grace.

“I wonder what the woman who wins him will make him do?” Amarjeet asked with a wicked, slightly drunken grin.

“Put out her fire?” Kimberly joked, her voice too loud again. Three drinks were obviously too much for us when all we’d eaten were a few tiny appies.

The firefighter had left his axe behind and stood easily, legs slightly apart, hands clasped behind his back. The posture emphasized his muscular chest and shoulders. Easy to imagine him hefting a woman in his arms, toting her out of a burning building and down one of those long, swaying ladders. Placing her on the ground, breathing air into her parched lungs as his sexy lips caressed hers. As, under his deft touch, her body came to life. To aroused, passionate life.

He glanced around the audience, a half-smile on his lips, seeming unworried about who would win him and what she’d ask him to do. Vaguely I was aware of women bidding, of Amarjeet whispering to Kimberly, but the man on stage was so fantasy-worthy that I barely noticed until a new voice joined the bidding. A voice I recognized.

I dragged my eyes off Quinn O’Malley to glare at Kimberly. “What are you doing?”

Amarjeet said, “You only had one man left on your list, and he’s near the end. Women will be getting desperate, bids will be higher. You might not get that lawyer.”

“But I don’t want this guy.” I stared back at the stage. Quinn O’Malley was watching us. Our gazes connected and I felt a zap of energy. Sexual energy.

Kimberly giggled. “That’s not what your body language says. You’re leaning forward like you want to leap out of your seat and jump him.”

Quickly I sat back, breaking that compelling eye connection, and tried to regain my sanity. “My body language is irrelevant.”

“He’s a hero. And he’s hot,” Amarjeet said as Kimberly placed another bid.

“For sure! But I want someone more conventional. White collar job, good looking but not so –”

“Freaking gorgeous?” Kimberly put in.

“Exactly.”

“Well, that’s too bad.” She waved her hand in the air.

A moment later the emcee’s gavel fell and Kimberly said triumphantly, “Because this is the guy you’re getting.”