LITMIR.BIZ

      This book is dedicated to Sharon Archer, who is not only an amazing author, but is also a brilliant critique partner and very dear friend. Sharon, thank you for being on this journey with me.

Acknowledgments

      Huge thanks to Charles Griemsman for his editing and support with this book—Charles, it’s always a pleasure to work with you. Also, thank you to Barbara DeLeo and Amanda Ashby for the brainstorming and help, and to John for always supporting my dreams.

      Contents

       Cover

       Introduction

       Title Page

       About the Author

       Dedication

Acknowledgments

One

Two

Three

       Four

       Five

       Six

       Seven

       Eight

       Nine

       Ten

       Eleven

       Twelve

       Extract

       Copyright

One

      Dylan Hawke had done a few things he regretted in his life, but he had a feeling this one might top the list.

      The spotlight shone in his eyes, but he smiled as he’d been instructed and gave a sweeping bow before making his way down the stairs and onto the stage. Applause—and a few cheers that he suspected were from his family—greeted him.

      “We’ll start the bidding at two hundred dollars,” the emcee said from the front of the stage.

      Dylan sucked in a breath. And so it begins. Step one of rehabilitating his image—donate his time to charity. Now that his brother was marrying a princess, Dylan’s own mentions in the media had skyrocketed, and he’d quickly realized his playboy reputation could be a disadvantage for his future sister-in-law and the things she wanted to achieve for homeless children in LA.

      “What do I hear for Dylan?” the emcee, a sitcom actor, called out. “Dylan Hawke is the man behind the chain of Hawke’s Blooms florists, so we can guarantee he knows about romancing his dates.”

      A murmur went around the crowded room as several white paddles with black numbers shot into the air. He couldn’t see too much detail past the spotlight that shone down on him, but it seemed that the place was full, and that the waiters were keeping the guests’ drinks topped off as they moved through the crowd.

      “Two fifty, three hundred,” the emcee called.

      Dylan spotted his brother Liam sitting with his fiancée, Princess Jensine of Larsland. Jenna—who had been hiding incognito as Dylan’s housekeeper before she met Liam—gave him a thumbs-up. This was the first fund-raising event of the new charity, the Hawke Brothers Trust, which Jenna had established to raise money for homeless children. Now that she and Liam were to be married, they planned to split their family’s time between her homeland and LA, and the trust would utilize the skills she’d gained growing up in a royal family. It would be the perfect project for her—she’d said it was something she could sink her teeth into.

      Dylan believed in the cause and believed in Jenna, so his job tonight was to help raise as much money as he could. He just wished he’d been able to do it in a less humiliating way. Like, say, writing a check.

      But that method wouldn’t help rehabilitate his image.

      Which had led him to this moment. On stage in front of hundreds of people. Being sold.

      “Five hundred and fifty,” the emcee said, pointing at a redhead near the side

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