Stefan: Le Beau Brothers: New Orleans Billionaire Wolf Shifters with plus sized BBW for mates (Le Beau Series Book 3) (5 page)

Mark stepped from behind the curtain on the right side and bowed.

“Most of you are aware of my tour of service with the Marines. What you may not know is I had a long road to recovery once I was stateside. The unrelenting love of my family and an incredible woman...” he drew Rose to his side, “brought me back to the land of the living. Not all returning veterans are so lucky. My personal experience and the need of these veterans is what fueled the creation of this organization.”

He waved Mark onto the stage.

Mark walked to him, head held proud. If you didn’t know he lost his right leg from the thigh down, you wouldn’t even catch the slight limp.

As he approached, Simon went rigid, tall and proud, chest out.

Mark chuckled and drew him into a back-thumping hug.

“Before the evening festivities begin, I would like you to know a bit more about what this foundation provides. I’ve asked Mark to explain what your donation dollar will offer. Mark, they’re all yours.”

Mark took the microphone and quietly scanned the crowd, making eye contact here and there. Men began to stand in respect for this retired hero. Slowly, one by one, the entire audience stood and gave a standing ovation to the proud warrior before them.

“Thank you, thank you. I appreciate the warm welcome. So, why are we asking you to loosen your purse strings tonight? What exactly could a dog possibly do for a serviceperson suffering PTSD?

“We believe the animal-human bond is an absolutely indisputable part of emotional, mental, spiritual, and physical healing. We’re seeking to make this healing available to everyone, regardless of financial or other challenges that might discourage them from seeking this invaluable resource.

“A service dog, or therapeutic companion dog, as they’re sometimes called, can help a serviceperson’s recovery and make adjustment back into civilian life easier. The dogs are extremely helpful if they’re experiencing panic attacks, anxiety, depression, nightmares, flashbacks, or agoraphobia. 

“So how will the dog help with these things, you ask?  The dog travels beside their owner in public places such as restaurants, grocery stores, buses, etcetera, helping to ease any anxiety the owner may experience.

“When in a crowded environment the dog will stay between its owner and any person approaching too close, creating a calm, yet friendly ‘barrier.’ The dog will awaken its owner from a nightmare and then calm him. Should the dog sense fear or anxiety, it will try to redirect its owner’s thoughts elsewhere.”

A dog in a service vest calmly walked onto the stage and stood next to Mark. When he didn’t continue, the dog nudged his hand to get his attention.

“Pardon me. This is my service dog, Rizzo.”

The crowd gave a rousing round of applause for Rizzo.

“What I’ve described is just the tip of the iceberg of what a service animal can do for the victims of PTSD. Studies show that up to eighty percent of patients show marked improvement once they receive their dog.”

He paused for a moment to take a sip of water. “So, how long does it take to train a dog to do incredible things like I’ve laid out? Generally nine months. This includes twice a week training for six months, followed by supplemental mentoring sessions. Both dog and man will need a bit of training.

“I was going to recount a success story of a friend of mine, but perhaps I’ll save that for another day. I’d like to leave you with the knowledge that for every forty thousand dollars raised, we can provide one serviceperson with a quality of life they would otherwise never have.

“These men and women sacrificed for freedoms we take for granted every day. This is your chance to show your appreciation. Thank you.”

Mark raised a hand to the crowd and walked off the stage with Rizzo.

Simon returned to the stage. “Thank you, Mark. And how about his awesome dog, Rizzo.” The crowd clapped their appreciation. “Now it’s time for the auction. Twenty-one local professionals and celebrities have volunteered to be our auction items tonight. If you are the lucky bidder, you’ll win a dinner date with your prize. You’ll also have a dance partner for the ball, if you so desire.

“Let me be very clear, there is no hanky
-
panky favors involved in winning one of the singles.” A chuckle rose from the audience. “With no further ado, I give you our auctioneer, Isaac Le Beau.”

Isaac took the stage to a rousing standing ovation. “Thank you, you’re too kind. Let me start the auction with a man you have already met tonight, Mark Anderson.”

The crowd applauded for him again, then settled for the fun and serious business of one-upping their neighbor. Mark was won by a pretty fifty-something woman and seemed very pleased with his date.

An hour into the auction and the woman Stefan was searching for still hadn’t shown. Where the heck had his mother taken her?

Winning El

El stood behind the stage curtain, torturing herself with a nice, long look at Stefan. She’d managed to get her terror under control and was able to pretend the encounter with BR had never happened.

He had always towered over her, and although she wasn’t short at five-foot-eight inches, next to him, she felt that way. The dang man filled out his formal wear in all the right places. How was it even possible for him to get better looking?

Holy cow
.
He really is a menace to all womankind!

The man was straight-up annoying.

No salon needed for him. No, his hair was naturally highlighted by the sun. To make matters worse, the cut emphasized his amazing honey gold eyes. As if he needed anything emphasized. The combination of his strong jaw and heart-stopping dimples were more than she could take and her knees began to tremble. The fluttering butterflies in her stomach were suddenly joined by an elephant sitting on her chest.

Why in the world did this playboy affect her when no one else did? She didn’t like it at all.

Reality struck home, and suddenly her heart began to hammer so hard it actually hurt. She was next to be auctioned and her ultimate humiliation was about to begin with him present to witness the entire thing.

Looking away to calm her nerves, she caught Emma studying her before her gaze darted away.

That was odd.

*****

The auction continued and the woman in the see-through dress took the stage. Stefan couldn’t breathe.

YES. She’s mine!

It didn’t matter if bidding went to a million dollars, he was winning this beauty.

He dared a glance at his brothers. He was desperate to touch her, to kiss her, but he didn’t want anyone else to know. For some reason, he wanted to keep it to himself to protect this new, indescribable sensation from everyone and enjoy it privately.

The problem was his desire for her was so intense he could taste it. He suppressed a groan as he imagined running his lips down her neck and tasting her from head to toe. He needed to learn every curve of her.

Damn, he was in trouble. His entire body was on fire for this woman.

“Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce El Jorgenson. El owns the Shadow Hill Stables. She is also a respected large animal veterinarian. Who will start the bidding at ten thousand dollars?”

A man in the front raised his hand.

“I have ten, now eleven to the man in the back, twelve to you.” He gestured to the man in the front row.

The gentleman nodded.

“I have twelve, now thirteen to the man by the wall. Who will give me fourteen?”

Stefan couldn’t take it. “Twenty thousand,” he yelled from the middle of the room.

El gasped and wobbled on her skyscraper heels.

“I have twenty from my son, Stefan, who will go twenty one?”

The man in the back raised his hand again.

Shit!

He would not let another man win his mate.

“Twenty-one to you, sir, twenty-two?”

The man along the wall raised his hand and stared directly at Stefan defiantly.

Oh, hell no.

“Fifty thousand,” Stefan yelled while never breaking eye contact with the dandy along the wall.

El had to grab Isaac’s arm to steady herself.

What is he doing?

“Sixty thousand,” came from along the wall.

El’s head was swimming.

“Are you okay?” Isaac whispered. “Here, take a sip of water and a deep breath.”

She took a deep breath and a large gulp of water.

Nope, didn’t help.

Stefan growled at his nemesis across the room.

Cade patted his arm, “Cool it, brother, not in public.”

“One hundred thousand!” he challenged.

El stumbled and Simon rushed onto the stage with a chair. She sat shaking in front of three hundred people.

Just shoot me and get it over with.

“I have one hundred, bid’s to you, sir.” Isaac gestured to the man along the wall.

The man glared at Stefan for a few seconds, then shook his head.

“I have one hundred, going once…going twice…”

“One hundred ten,” the stranger in the rear of the room yelled.

Stefan literally snarled in frustration. He wasn’t used to being denied what he wanted. Having finally found his mate, the chance to experience the happiness his brothers had was within his grasp. This bidding war was frustrating as hell.

Stefan stood and slowly turned to face the back of the room. Was that Sam, his family’s friend, bidding against him? He tried to see the man, to glare into his eyes as he won his mate, but the guy wore a hat that made it impossible to see his entire face. It didn’t matter. He would win El, end of story.

“Two hundred thousand,” he said in an eerily calm voice.

“What are you doing?” El yelled at him, then clapped her hand over her mouth.

Isaac chuckled. “I have two hundred to Stefan, do I hear three?”

The audience laughed at his teasing comment.

“Two hundred once…two hundred twice…two hundred thousand to Stefan Le Beau.”

The crowd cheered and clapped wildly.

Isaac looked at his wife standing in the wings and gave her a triumphant wink. He watched as Emma clapped happily.

El hid her face in her hands and jumped when Simon startled her by touching her arm to help her from the stage. Thank God she hadn’t screamed.

Emma is a dead woman.

*****

Forty
-
five minutes later, the auction was finally over. She could finally go home. Her feet were swollen and something was doing a tap dance on the inside of her skull. The Tylenol® she had taken fifteen minutes ago hadn’t kicked in yet.

She considered her options as she rubbed the edge of her sole.
Should I chance taking these shoes off? Crap, I might not get them back on. Then what? Go barefoot in this gown?

That wouldn’t be embarrassing, not at all.

El stood and limped to the door leading to the ballroom. She groaned as she looked at the crowd she would have to walk through to get to her truck.

This was going to be two hundred thousand times worse than a walk of shame.

She giggled at her bad joke. Yeah, she was losing it.

“What’s so funny?”

The deep timber of his drawl had no business sending her pulse racing. She waited for a panic attack to kick in, but her body remained calm.

“Nothing.” she squared off with Stefan. “Were you dropped on your head as a child?”

The smell of fresh leather surrounded her. She took a deep breath wondering once again where it was coming from.

He frowned. “No.”

She cocked her head and arched a brow at him.

“Is there a history of insanity in your family?”

“No,” he scowled. “What are you getting at?”

“No one in his right mind would bid two hundred thousand dollars. That leaves one conclusion: you’re insane.”

“Oh, I’m insane all right. Insane for you.”

“Right. Go fishing with those lines somewhere else. This woman isn’t biting.”

“Oh, cher,” he laid his hand across his heart, “you wound me.”

“Shut up, Le Beau.” She tried to push past him but he didn’t budge. “Please move out of the way.”

From the ballroom, the band began to play a romantic waltz. Her father’s favorite song
-
the one he always insisted she dance with him to. How odd.

He presented his hand to her. “I do believe they’re playing our song.”

She looked at his hand suspiciously. “What are you doing now?”

“I’m asking the single woman I won at the auction to dance. That is my right as the winner.” He grinned.

She stepped back and crossed her arms. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I’ve never been more serious, I assure you. Now, may I have this dance?” His hand remained extended as he waited for her response.

She eyed the hand like it might bite. “Fine. I suppose I have to.”

Stefan led her to the dance floor and took her into his arms. She was perfect. His wolf howled in triumph. Now, if he could only get her to actually like him

As the song played, El didn’t relax into him as he expected. Instead it was the exact opposite. She was stiff as a board.

“Are you enjoying the evening?”

“It’s been interesting, that’s for sure.”

Stefan kept the conversation lighthearted while his mind raced for solutions to winning his mate’s affection. At least she was talking to him and not totally rejecting him; that was a start. It was most likely residual shock from her experience on the auction stage. El didn’t seem to like being the center of attention.

She winced as her shoe pinched her toes again.

“Are you all right?” He released her and led them to an open table. “You look like you’re in pain.”

“These damn shoes are killing my feet,” her voice trailed off as she looked up at him. Four-inch heels and she still had to tilt her head back. The man was a mountain.

He pulled her chair and moved another to sit directly in front of her. Stefan gently ran his palm down her left leg and lifted her ankle to his knee.

“What the hell are you doing?” El squeaked.

Very carefully he removed her shoe. El groaned in pain and then sighed in relief.

“Better?”

“Much. But, now my dress is four inches too long and I’ll never get that torture device back on.”

“Hold that thought.” Stefan disappeared through a side door, leaving her feet propped on his chair.

Why am I still sitting here?

He was being nice. Nice! What was she supposed to do with that? She felt mesmerized by him, and she didn’t like the feeling at all. A sigh filled with pure exasperation escaped her lips.

Stefan returned with a huge smile lighting his face, his dimples on full display.

Shit, shit, shit.

On a normal day he could make her heart race, but this new “nice, attentive Stefan” nearly gave her heart failure.

Oddly, he walked with one hand behind his back like he held a knife. Great, now she had visions of Stefan, the serial killer.

He toed his boots off and joined her in stocking feet. Then, as he reclaimed his chair and repositioned her feet on his knees, he brought his hand forward to reveal a pair of scissors. Before she could ask what they were for, he’d cut off a wide swath halfway around the gown’s hemline.

“What the hell are you doing now?” She tried to pull her feet back but he held her in place.

“Easy, now. I’m fixing the length of your dress. You can’t get those shoes back on and this way no one will even notice.”

“How am I supposed to explain that to your mother?”

“Mom? What’s she got to do with this?”

“Oh, never mind. I’m almost afraid to ask, but why did you take your boots off?”

“I can’t have you in stocking feet all by yourself so I’m joining you.” His dimples mocked her again as he finished the hem.

“I look ridiculous,” she whispered so no one would hear.

“You look magnificent. There, I left the hem long enough to cover your feet.” His eyes grew heated as they swept over her. “Absolute perfection.”

“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes.

“Is it really so hard to believe that I find you beautiful?” He looked confused.

When she didn’t answer, he took her hand and helped her to her feet. “How do your feet feel?”

“Much better. Thank you.” Surprisingly, she didn’t have a panic attack when he grabbed her hand. More than that, being nice to him and thanking him hadn’t been the bitter pill she expected. The therapy hypnosis must be working better than she dreamed.

Stefan led her toward the open terrace doors. A light breeze fluttered the decorative curtains, drawing couples into the darker, more private garden.

As he stepped from the historic mansion, the chilly night breeze blew his hair back and cooled his skin. Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes and willed his pulse to return to normal. It didn’t. Not an iota of relief.

When he turned to face her, he looked…sad. She had never seen him behave like this. It was a bit unnerving to say the least.

Casting his gaze to their feet, he asked,
“Am I really so offensive? You can hardly stand to be in my presence.”

He wouldn’t even look at her. Oh, this was bad. Now what should she do?

There was no way she was admitting her lifelong crush and disappointment. Or the degradation suffered in college. “No, I wouldn’t say offensive... and I prefer to not have this conversation in public.”

“Well, that’s something anyway.” This was going to be more difficult than he had imagined.