I'm No Angel by Patti Berg

dress you’re going to wear to the gala, since you won’t be putting yourself on the auction block.”
    â€œYou can’t buy me or my gown. And why you’d want to is beyond me.”
    â€œMy reasons are quite easily explained. If I own it, I’ll have the right to take it off of you whenever I want.”
    Angel felt one of her perfectly plucked eyebrows raise. “Don’t forget I carry a stiletto, Mr. Donovan.”
    â€œI haven’t forgotten a thing about you.”
    Angel picked a chocolate-dipped strawberry from a plate and bit off the very end. She chewed it slowly, watching Tom as he sat in one of theeasy chairs and crossed a crocodile-booted ankle over his knee.
    â€œSince we both know you didn’t come here to try and buy me or my dress, why don’t you tell me your real reason for interrupting my shopping.”
    â€œI took a look at my social calendar this morning and noticed that the date of your gala wasn’t marked.” He took a sip of champagne. “Then I went through my stack of invitations and, what do you know? Someone must have left me off your guest list.”
    Angel smiled, knowing where this line of conversation was leading. “You’re new in town. I imagine your name hasn’t shown up on a lot of guest lists.”
    â€œBut now that you know about this oversight, you will send me an invitation. Right?”
    â€œI could. Unfortunately, Mr. Hudson has the final say on who’s invited and”—Angel shrugged—“you’ve already told me that Holt refuses to see you. If I’m not mistaken, he wouldn’t want you at the gala, either.”
    Tom’s eyes narrowed. “I was under the impression that you were running the show, but obviously Holt’s the one in control.”
    â€œHolt has donated his home for the night. He’s contributing a lot of high-priced items to the auction and he’s asked for very little in return.” That last part was one whopper of a lie, but Tom didn’t need to know just how much power Holt was actually wielding.
    â€œIn other words, giving me an invitation is out of the question?”
    â€œYou’re very perceptive.”
    â€œI can be quite devious, too, if I have to be.”
    â€œAnd what’s that supposed to mean?”
    â€œWhy don’t you sneak me in through the back door?”
    Angel shook her head. “No.”
    â€œWouldn’t you like to know how much I’d be willing to donate to your charity, if you’ll just get me into your little party and then share a dance or two with me?”
    â€œNo.”
    Tom took another swallow of champagne, emptying his glass. “Your interest isn’t the least bit piqued?”
    â€œAll right.” Angel shrugged, curiosity getting the better of her. “How much?”
    â€œTen grand.”
    A lump settled in Angel’s throat at the stunning amount of money he’d just suggested. Unfortunately, no amount of money would be enough, because she knew damn good and well that Holt would throw a fit if she sneaked Tom or anyone else who hadn’t been invited into the mansion.
    â€œTen thousand is quite generous, but as I said before, I can’t accommodate your wishes.”
    â€œFifteen.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œTwenty.”
    Angel’s eyes narrowed. Could that offer possibly be sincere? Or was he merely teasing?
    â€œAm I to believe you have that kind of money burning a hole in your pocket?” Angel asked.
    â€œIt’s in the bank. Want to check out my account, or have you done that already?”
    â€œI planned to do that later this afternoon or tomorrow.”
    â€œI told you before,” Tom said, shoving out of the chair and crossing the room to pour himself more champagne, “if you want to know something about me, just ask.”
    â€œAll right,” she said, wondering if she could get a donation from him and still not allow him