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Monique’s eyes widened, and the heavily made up brunette plastered a fake smile on her face when she spotted his approach.
“Mr. Bryce, so good to see you here. I thought you weren’t coming?”
Hannah swung round, and he caught the full glare of her expressive eyes before she lowered her gaze and murmured her own greeting. He didn't miss the flush of anger on her pale cheeks, or the way her breasts heaved with her sharp inhales. The little spitfire was wired all right.
"Have I interrupted something, here?" he asked.
Monique shook her head. "Of course, not. There was a simple misunderstanding with the scheduling, which I shall now sort out. Do excuse me, and Hannah was just telling me how much she loves to dance." Monique had the audacity to wink at him and then teetered away to have a word with the Master of Ceremonies. Hannah growled under her breath, fury coming off her in waves so palpable his dick gave up any pretense of behaving himself. Thank God for well-tailored trousers and the cover up his tuxedo jacket afforded.
"She is too much," Hannah finally said, and she shook her head when he offered his arm f
or her take. "No, I can't dance. I'll just step on your toes, and I need to stop her. She put me on that blasted auction sheet, and—"
His finger over her lush lips stopped her tirade, and this time her skin bloomed in the instant blush of aroused woman, as he leaned in and whispered in her ear.
“Hush now, little dove, you need to relax. The turnout is excellent. You should be very proud of yourself. As for being auctioned, think of the charity and all the money you could personally raise. Now sway with me. We’re attracting attention.”
Hannah bit back what sounded like a very unladylike swear word, when she seemed to realize that he had maneuvered them onto the dance floor. She made a grab for his shoulders when he slid his hand along her back and rested it on her skin, just above the line of her dress. A telltale gasp escaped her when he drew her in closer, and she no doubt noticed his erection. Logan began to move, and she followed, even as she shivered in his arms.
"Relax, you're shaking like a leaf. Surely dancing with me is not such an abhorrent thought?" Amusement tinged his deep voice, and Hannah drew a shuddering breath into her lungs and shook her head.
“No, sir,” she whispered.
“Good, because I’ve been wanting to do this ever since I spotted you in this dress. You look stunning by the way. Now, trust me, little dove, and just let yourself go. This will all work out just fine, you’ll see.”
A snort was her answer this time, but she did follow his lead and soon relaxed in his arms as the magic of the dance worked in his favor. He twirled her around the dance floor in ever faster moves, and when she stumbled it gave him the perfect excuse to pull her in even tighter. It was torture and bliss all rolled into one as her soft curves fit against the hard planes of his body, as though she was made just for him. A far too fanciful thought but with her short puffs of breath hitting his jaw, it seemed fitting. Logan rested his chin on her head, and something like a whimper escaped the woman in his arms, as she sank into his embrace. All too soon the dance was over and the strange bubble they’d been in evaporated.
“Thank you for the dance, sir, but I’ve got duties to attend to, so please let me go.”
“Logan, please. Surely, we’re familiar enough after that dance to be on first name terms?”
A shiver went through her, and she shook her head.
“I beg to differ, sir. We only danced, in full view of everyone, so that’s hardly—”
“I could arrange for a more private dance, if you prefer, sweet Hannah.”
Hannah scowled and pushed him away with surprising force for someone so small.
“No.”
With that, she turned and left him standing on the dance floor.
"We shall see about that, little dove." Logan murmured the words to her departing back and did what he came here to do, originally, network, while he kept an eye on his prey. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed to not march over and plant his fist in James Herringey's podgy face when the man cornered her a short while later. While Logan was too far away to hear what the other man was saying to her, it was damn obvious Hannah didn't appreciate the man's advances. Her body language practically screamed “get off”. The complete opposite of how she’d been in his arms. No doubt, having seen her on the auction sheet, the guy was trying his luck. The thought of anyone bidding on her and winning the right to spend time with her made that never far away ball of fury in his gut tighten. His hands fisted into balls, and he took deep breaths to control the red mist which had clouded his younger years. It was the sole reason why he'd agreed to this event truth be told. It wouldn't do to lose his temper here. That never achieved anything, and he didn't want to be responsible for another young woman lying in a coma. One was one too fucking many. He shook his head to clear it of those dark thoughts. Remnants of the nightmare that had been and was his life. Things he could never atone for in a million lifetimes.
The Master of Ceremonies announced the start of the auction.
“Ladies and gentlemen, now that we’re all nicely warmed up, let’s get on with the real reason why you’re all here. Who would like to go home with a date tonight?”
Loud cheers rang out, James's one being one of the loudest, and Hannah looked as though she wanted to be anywhere but there. She slowly inched away from the other man, and, arms wrapped around her middle, watched the proceedings with a deep frown pulling her brows together.
“We’ve had some last-minute additions to this list, so without further ado, let’s begin. First up for auction is none other than our Deputy Mayor. Let’s all put your hands together and welcome her to the stage.”
The assembled crowd of London’s finest erupted into applause, and Hannah joined in without much enthusiasm. Oh, she was far too easy to read, carrying her emotions on her face.
With everything else in his private life going to hell in a hand basket, he could do with a distraction. She didn't know it yet, but little Hannah was at his mercy, and before the night was over she would be his, come what may. Logan didn't usually mix business with pleasure. There was too much risk of muddying the waters when you got involved with someone at work, but the terms of the auction were crystal clear. She was his for twenty-four hours only. Plenty of time to discover the truly passionate woman he sensed underneath the professional mask she wore. Plenty of time to get her out of his system. That was the only reason she'd been occupying his thoughts lately. Once he'd sampled the delights of her submission he would be able to move on. He always did, after all, and he had no reason to think this time would be any different. It had simply been too long since he last got laid.
“Next up for auction is the delightful Ms. Hannah Watson.” The Master of Ceremonies’ announcement shook Logan out of his thoughts, and he smirked at little Hannah’s reaction. If ever there was a woman who shied away from the limelight, which now quite literally shone on her, it had to be her. His little dove looked so pale and fragile under the spotlight trained on her, it made him want to march over there, wrap her up in his arms and take her away from all this spectacle. That impulse alone should have made him abandon his plan. Logan had enough emotional entanglements waiting for him at home, but the thought of anyone else gaining the right for her company rooted him to the spot.
