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His big shoulders shook in silent laughter, and she arched away slightly to glare up at him. It only made his amusement deepen.
“I mean it. Let. Me. Go.” She accentuated every word with a tug at his jacket. He did just that, and she would have stumbled had he not put a hand out to steady her. The minute she got her bearings on the killer heels she wore, he released her, stuck his hand in his trouser pocket and pulled out a key card.
“Fine, have it your way, little dove. If you change your mind this is the key to my suite.” He held it out to her, and when she took it smirked down on her. “Be very sure this is what you want, however.” He leaned in and dropped his voice to that growly whisper guaranteed to get to the ladies. “Let’s be absolutely clear about what I want. If you choose to use that key, you’re mine to do with as I see fit, little dove.” He paused and traced the outline of her lips with his thumb. The urge to kiss those plump lips drove him hard. What’s more she wouldn’t resist him. The subconscious way she leaned into him, parted her lips, and her little tongue darted out to touch the tip of his digit told their own story. Such a fucking turn-on.
However, there were too many people milling about, and they’d given the gossipmongers enough to hark on about.
He smiled and cupped her jaw instead.
“I don’t do love. I don’t do commitment, and whatever you decide will have no bearing whatsoever on your standing at work.” He nodded when she couldn’t seem to help her tiny jerk of reaction. “Neither will I renege on my donation. I’m not that guy. However, I would very much like to fuck you, my sweet. No strings, no promises, just one night of fun. And it would be fun, that I can promise you. So…” He withdrew his palm slowly, and Hannah shivered at the loss of contact. “Over to you, Ms. Watson.”
Chapter Two
Oh, the man’s arrogance was infuriating and arousing in equal measures. The feminist in her wanted to tell him to take a hike, but her inner hussy did her haven’t-had-a-good-shag-in-ages jig, followed by the I’m-so-going-to-get-laid-tonight dance.
“I—that is… You can’t speak to me like that.” Hannah tried her best to ignore her raging hormones and attempted to glare up at him. Having to crane her neck to do so rather spoiled the effect she was going for here. Not so much righteous indignation at his proposition as pure, flustered, “take me, I’m yours” female. Judging by the knowing smirk he wore, he knew exactly what lustful thoughts were bombarding her brain right now.
Namely the two of them rolling around silk sheets, sweaty limbs entwined. Then again, he might be the type to tie up his women, for all she knew. He certainly gave off that dominant vibe in spades.
“Can’t I, little dove? I think you find I just did, and why beat about the bush? I want you. You want me. We’re two consenting adults, so let’s not pretend.” He bent his head so that his far too tempting mouth was hovering mere inches over her lips. “Tell me you’re not wondering about what I meant by fun, sweetie, and are getting nice and wet on whatever you’re imagining I might do to you.”
Hannah opened her mouth to protest, but nothing but a very unbecoming squeak came out. Logan simply smiled and held out his arm for her take.
“Think about it. Either way, I need to make my goodbyes, so, shall we?” The gentlemanly move was so at odds with what he’d just said to her, she placed her hand on his forearm without thinking, and he led her back into the ballroom. The fact he headed straight toward Monique wasn’t lost on her. In her heels, she had trouble keeping up with his long strides, and that was the only reason she carried on clinging onto his arm like the proverbial limpet.
At least that’s what she told herself. This whole thing was unreal, and if it wouldn’t have made her look like a complete lunatic, Hannah would have been tempted to burst into hysterical laughter. Not least, because Monique looked as though she was sucking lemons rather than sipping a flute of the finest champagne money could buy, as Logan approached her.
No expense had been spared for this auction at Logan’s insistence and the finance department’s not so silent consternation.
It had given Hannah a much-needed boost at the time to know that her far too sexy and overbearing boss was behind this project every step of the way. Clearly, he’d decided that this auction was beneficial for business, and if she’d learnt one thing about him in the last few weeks of very much being on his radar it was that for this man business was everything. He pursued an avenue he was interested in with ruthless determination. Judging by the ridiculous amount of money he’d spent on securing her at the auction and his subsequent refusal to let her wriggle out of it, he had now set his sights on her.
Hannah wasn’t at all sure she wanted to be his latest acquisition, as it were.
No, that was a lie. She had to face up to the truth at least in her head. Her body was more than up for the idea of getting to know her boss on a far more intimate level, if only he wasn’t her boss. Things in the office would be awkward enough as it was with everyone thinking she’d slept with him.
The little devil sitting on her shoulder smirked.
You might as well do it then. No one will believe you haven’t, let alone Monique.
Hannah ignored that insidious voice trying to lead her down the path of sinful temptation and took refuge in her fury over Monique’s underhandedness instead. Far better to think about that than to wonder what Logan Bryce would look like naked.
Grief, stop it, already. Think about the trollop instead.
She knew full well what the other woman’s plan had been, namely to humiliate Hannah in front of everyone. Well, that had rather spectacularly backfired on her.
When she drew face to face with her nemesis, Hannah knew her smile was as fake as Monique’s. Logan pulled her closer into his side and slid his hand down her back slowly in a far too arousing display of familiarity and ownership. Monique’s eyes narrowed, and Hannah could almost see the malicious wheels turning in her head, as she dipped her head in acknowledgement.
“Hannah.”
“Monique.” She tried in vain to shake off Logan’s hand. All she achieved was for his hand to slide slower, and she swallowed a gasp when he tapped her butt just once. What on earth was he playing at? They were in full view of anyone. And why was his caveman act such a turn-on?
“I take it you will be all right to oversee the rest of the evening, Monique.” Logan’s deep voice held that note of censure, which only served to rev Hannah’s hormones into yet more of a frenzy. The effect his voice had on her was really rather ludicrous.
Seeing Monique snap to attention as though a bee had crawled up her bony backside to sting her, did wonders for Hannah’s fra
gile equilibrium. She wasn’t the only one affected by the man’s sheer presence then.
“I, yes, of course, sir, but you’ve put Hannah in charge and—”
