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give her grandcubs and if she didn’t nudge him a little, she’d never have any. 
    To help him along, s he’d volunteered him to attend the auction and neglected to tell him until the day it was being held. 
    He had to admit, she’d been very clever about it.  She knew that if she gave him any advance warning, he’d find a way to wiggle out of it, so she’d pulled a sneaky bait and switch.   She’d asked him to come over that evening for dinner with her and his father, and then called him up at 4:00 p.m. to confirm that he was still coming.  When he said yes, she’d told him about the bachelor auction, and he couldn’t even back out of it, because she knew he was free that evening.
    Nobody else would have dare d pulled that on him, but his Mama Bear could get away with anything. 
    So here he was, stuck in the ballroom of a turn of the centur y mansion with an endless stream of women “accidentally” bumping into him and trying to get his attention, when there was only one woman whose attention he wanted, and that was a woman he shouldn’t go anywhere near.  It was a complete waste of an evening, and then when someone bid on him he’d be stuck wasting yet another evening, but what could he do? At least they were serving top shelf liquor.
    He le aned back on the bar with a scowl, and took another sip of bourbon, letting the smoky liquid burn its way down his throat like sweet fire.    
    “Buck up . It’s for a good cause,” Creighton Leicester, a local wolf shifter, said.   The auction was a fundraiser for a new wildlife rehabilitation center.  
    “I’d rather just write a fat check than have to parade up and down the runway like a parcel of meat,” Flint grumbled.
    “There’s some attractive women here tonight,” Creighton pointed out. “I wouldn’t mind them checking out my meat.” He guffawed crudely at his own joke, and wandered off to mingle with the crowd.
    “Why the pouty face?” a voice at his elbow said.  He turned t o see Melinda Kramer, the bear shifter who was one of the construction supervisors in his crew – among her other roles.   Melinda was tall, about 6 feet, and had straight, shiny brown hair and an athletic build.  She looked out of place in her low-cut evening dress; Melinda was built to wear jeans and a t-shirt, or camouflage.  She didn’t do the girly thing very well.   
    “Because I’d rather be anywhere else on the planet right now,” Flint said, but he managed a smile for her.  “What brought you here? Are you going to bid on some hot piece of manflesh?”
    “ What, you mean like you?” she said, flashing a hopeful smile. 
    His lips quirked in a wry smile in return, but he didn’t answer.   Their history was long and complicated.  A year ago, she’d risked her life to save his.  They’d been on a mission to rescue a kidnapped operative in India, when things had gone south.  The local thugs who’d kidnapped their man had gotten word of the rescue operation, and several of their team had been killed. Melinda had pushed him out of the way just as he was about to be shot, and she’d literally taken a bullet for him.
    He felt obligated to her, and she was also damned good at what she did. Unfortunately, she was also infatuated with him, and he didn’t return her feelings. The more he pulled away, the harder she pushed.  It was becoming increasingly awkward between the two of them.
    When he didn’t respond, her smile faded. “Just kidding. I meant, I could bid on you to spare you having to go on a boring date with some bimbo who’s desperate enough to come to one of these things.”
    He shook his head.   There was no point in leading her on.  “Save your money,” he said gruffly, and walked away, setting his glass of bourbon down on the bar.
    Suddenly h e felt an odd tingling, and a pulsing in his groin, and he looked around the room to see why. 
    Well, hello. This was an interesting development.
    It was Coral, and she looked