THE DARE (G!P Freenbecky)

Chapter 44

The million dollar stud.

Freen stared out the taxicab window as it careened around a corner and down one of London's famous hills. Christmas lights still twinkled in storefront windows, while the rain-swept streets reflected back both headlights and taillights of the traffic around them. Even in this rainy weather, and with this much traffic, her driver was making a great time.

That's what she'd been, essentially: a million dollar stud. Becky had thrown it all away, one million dollars, in order to hit the hay with her. And while it had been great for her, Freen wondered how she'd felt once she'd realized she'd lost the bet.

Becky obviously hadn't told her grandfather yet. Knowing Becky, Freen guessed that honor would demand she refuse the check on her wedding day.

While Freen supposed she should have felt totally flattered, instead she felt awful. True, a million dollars wasn't what it used to be, but still....and it really wasn't even about the million, it was about losing a bet, a crazy sort of deal she'd made with her grandfather.

An archaic deal, to be sure, but Freen could understand exactly why the old man had done it. A woman as beautiful and desirable as Becky, and all the wealth she stood to inherit—Phillip had wanted to make sure, very sure, she chose the right person. He'd wanted her to have something in the way, something that would make her think, perhaps even pause before she took that great leap that could have either such wonderful or disastrous consequences.

This particular charity function, for the London Orchid Society, was taking place at the St. Eleonora, one of the grand hotels of London and a Union square landmark. As the taxi pulled up in front of the hotel, Freen saw sheiks walking through the main entrance with milkmaids and Norman warriors striding alongside Saxon princess.

At least Freen wouldn't feel too out of place in her getup. Because on top of tonight's auction being about raising money for a good cause by bidding for dates with some of London's most eligible bachelorettes, the men and women who attended had been asked to don costumes to maintain the wonderful fantasy element of this gathering.

Freen glanced over at Lafitte as the taxi rolled to a stop.

This was it. Now or never.

"Okay, boy, it's time to pull out all the stops."

Lafitte eyed her with those beady parrot eyes, then said quite calmly, "Dead men tell no tales."

My sentiments, exactly.

Becky stood backstage and wondered why she simply hadn't called in sick. She didn't feel good. She felt like she had a slight fever, or maybe she was coming down with a cold.

No. That wasn't true. She was sick, all right. Heartsick. She missed Freen so terribly. The last week had been miserable. Oh, Freen had called regularly, almost every other day. But each time when she asked her if she wanted to see her, she'd felt it was only right to say no. She was damaged goods and had nothing to offer her. At least that had been her reasoning at the time.

Now she wasn't so sure. Now, she was beginning to think that she was filled with fear.

The last thing she wanted to do was go out to dinner with a man she hardly knew. But it was emotionally safer than being with Freen. She could handle a dinner date with a stranger. There is no intimacy there. But Freen? Freen wanted it all: marriage, a family, a whole lot of pets, happiness, and they lived happily ever after.....

Becky had to be crazy not to want the same thing, but sometimes, when your perfect dream came right up to you and looked you in the eye, you just became a gutless wonder.

Maybe she could call her after the evening was over.

Maybe she could ask Freen if she could  come over and they could talk. Because wishing she could see her, missing her so much that had to count for something. Becky knew she could live her life alone and on her own terms. She'd been doing that for years. But once she'd had a taste of how sweet things could be with a partner, there was no going back.