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soon as the thunder of applause diminished, the auctioneer spoke again. Her voice had lost its bantering, teasing tone.
    “This brings us to the end of our scheduled program, but not to the end of our bachelor auction. We are truly privileged to have with us tonight a man who has dedicated his life to working for Our Children’s Children. Whenever politics or war or natural disasters threaten OCC’s overseas projects, this is the man who is sent to clean up the mess and put things back into working order again. Unfortunately, not all governments have been appreciative of his efforts on behalf of the earth’s children – he has been harassed, shot, beaten and jailed. He has also received more awards, citations and jeweled medals than one man can wear. He told me earlier tonight that of the two – being harassed or being applauded – he would take the former. Nonetheless, he has volunteered himself and a truly spectacular Australian mystery vacation to some lucky and generous woman. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Damon McCarey Sutter, internationally renowned futurist and director of Our Children’s Children’s overseas projects.“
    As one, the audience came to its feet in a storm of applause. Mandy was among the first to stand. Sutter might unnerve her but she, better than anyone in the audience, understood what he had done for the success of OCC’s projects in countries that most people didn’t even know existed. The three months he had just finished in Brazil had been brutal. There were few places on earth where the gap between the rich and the poor was so wide, deep and final.
    Sutter walked across the stage with the same lithe stride that had served him so well in jungles, deserts and mountains. He had made too many speeches in front of too many wealthy and powerful people to be bothered by stage fright. Yet, despite his best efforts to be charitable, he knew that there was a razor edge to his smile. He knew because the auctioneer was giving him the sideways, wary glances that people usually reserve for large, fanged animals that have been carelessly left unchained.
    It’s all for a good cause, he reminded himself for the twentieth time as he sat down, hoping to end the unwanted applause. He worked for OCC because he believed in it, not because he wanted to be known as a benefactor of worthy causes.
    Suddenly Sutter spotted a svelte redhead sauntering down the aisle and taking a front-row, center seat. The body was by the best personal fitness instructors. The jewels were by Tiffany. The dress was by Sharai, purchased outright rather than merely modeled for the evening. The woman was stunningly turned out, unbelievably self-centered and had been pursuing Sutter with equal parts of energy and shamelessness for more than three years.
    The redhead was not noted for her charitable nature. Sutter had little doubt that she had come tonight for the sole purpose of acquiring him for a few uninterrupted weeks of intense pursuit. As his name hadn’t been on the program, there was only one way she could have discovered that he was auctioning himself off to the most generous bidder.
    Damn Anthea, anyway! If that redheaded barracuda has the last bid, my so-called vacation will be undiluted hell!
    Furious, Sutter reached up with outward casualness and tugged on his left ear. It was a signal of long standing between himself and his aunt. Whoever used it was calling for help in being extricated from an impossible social situation.
    “Go see what the dear boy wants.“
    Anthea’s unexpected purr of satisfaction at Mandy’s elbow slid easily through the crowd’s noise, making her jump. She hadn’t even seen Anthea come down from the side aisle to stand beside her.
    “But – “ Mandy began.
    “Quickly!“ interrupted Anthea crisply. “The auction is about to begin and then it will be too late.“
    Bewildered, Mandy stepped out into the aisle, only to stop as a small, surprisingly strong hand gripped her