Auctioned to the Bad Boy CEO Read online

  “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.

  "Up you come, Ms. Watson. I should add that we owe tonight's splendor to the fair hands of this lady. I have it on good authority that this whole event was Ms. Watson’s brainchild, so let's put our hands together to show our appreciation, shall we?"

  Thunderous applause accompanied Hannah's progress onto the stage, and not unlike the nickname he'd bestowed on her, she appeared ready to take flight. Her crystal blue eyes looked too big for her heart-shaped face, and even across the room, he could see the wild staccato of her pulse in her neck. Her impressive rack strained against the confines of her dress, her breath appeared to come in short gasps, and she looked on the verge of a panic attack as the bidding started.

  Logan hung back, silently amused at the way the bids stepped up rapidly. It seemed he wasn’t the only one in attendance tonight who appreciated a real woman when they saw her. He barely bit back a laugh when Herringey from accounts realized he couldn’t afford her.

  “Going once, going twice, for five thousand pounds on the lovely Hannah. Do we have any more?” The Master of Ceremonies raised his hammer one last time and waited. Just before he brought it down Logan intervened.

  “Ten thousand!”

  A collective gasp went through the assembled crowd, and Hannah dropped her head and appeared to be praying for divine intervention. Monique gave a very good and most unattractive impression of a goldfish—he really would have to deal with her come Monday morning—while the silver-haired guy, who had driven the bids up thus far, threw Logan a glance, and then shook his head at the Master of Ceremonies.

  “Sold for ten thousand pounds to none other than Logan Bryce. Thank you for your generosity and come claim your date.”

  Logan slowly made his way across the room, and by the time he reached the stage some color had returned to his little dove’s cheeks. In fact, she positively vibrated in fury, and, sure enough, when he drew close and nudged her chin up with his forefinger, the furious look in her eyes would have felled a lesser man. Too bad for her that her outrage only served to make him harder. It would be such fun, indeed, to tame the little spitfire in front of him.

  “Shall we get out of here, little dove?” he asked.

  “How dare you? I’m not going anywhere with you. You’ve set this up, haven’t you? Well, you’ve had your laugh at my expense. I will not do this. I can’t. I’m not for sale, damn you.”

  The words, delivered in a hissed whisper for his ears only, brought with them more of the subtle flowery scent he'd noticed earlier. It wasn't a fragrance he could place. Certainly not one of the more cloying, expensive perfumes he was used to from the women in his acquaintance. Hannah's scent was all her. Fresh and light, it brought to mind meadows in the summer breeze, like the kind his brother and he had played in when they were children. Long before Rick had been responsible for beating his wife into a pulp. Long before Logan's own and far too painful brush with the women's refuge.

  “Are you not, my dear? Yet, here you are, to all intents and purposes mine for the next twenty-four hours.” He blocked the hand poised to connect with his cheek easily enough, and pulled Hannah away and off the stage and their fascinated audience.

  “Now, now, little dove, violence is never the answer. Isn’t that the motto of the evening?”

  Hannah kicked his shin, and he cursed under his breath as pain shot up from that abused part of his body.

  She looked utterly mortified at her action, as confirmed by the words tumbling out her mouth.

  “Jeez, let me go. This isn’t me. I’m sorry I kicked you, but for God’s sake enough of this.”

  Amusement replaced his annoyance, and he chose to wind her up a bit more.

  “That’s the oddest apology I ever heard, I have to say.” He didn't release his grip on her wrists. Instead, he marched her backwards until her back
hit the wall, and using his considerable body mass crowded her in.

  “It also changes nothing, and, besides, do you really want the charity to lose ten grand, because you don’t trust yourself in my company?”

  He grinned at her outraged gasp.

  “You wouldn’t renege on your donation?” The breathy question shot straight to his groin, and he shifted to relieve the ache in his balls.

  “Maybe not, but are you really willing to take that risk, little Hannah?”

  She opened her mouth to no doubt chew him out some more, but whatever she read in his expression stopped her.

  “Don’t stop protesting now. It’s rather amusing to see you fight this thing between us.”

  “What? There is no us. Let me go. I’ll scream.” That breathy moan of a reply wouldn’t disturb the wings of a butterfly, but it made him even harder.

  He dipped his head and whispered the next words into her ear.

  “You don’t really want me to let you go, do you?”

  She gasped in answer. Hot little puffs of air ghosted across his jaw, further testament that she wasn’t as unaffected as she’d like him to think she was. Hannah bit her lip, and the hand she had poised on his chest to push him away curled into the lapels of his tuxedo, instead, and raising herself up on tiptoes, she reiterated in kind.

  “Yes, I do.”

  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—”

  “And an admirable job she has done tonight. She’s also now off the clock, which means I expect you to step in. This will not be a problem, I take it?”

  One dark eyebrow rose in an elegant arch, when Monique seemed on the verge to disagree with him, before she snapped her mouth shut and shook her head. The look she angled Hannah’s way from under her fake eyelashes sent a shiver of unease down her spine, however. Hannah nudged her chin up and stared the other woman down.

  Bring it on, bitch.

  She sensed rather than saw Logan tense beside her. Naturally, he’d picked up on the undertones. That man never seemed to miss anything work related, and even though they weren’t in the office, he was still paying attention.

  “Good. Also, report to HR first thing Monday morning, will you, Monique? They will have something to give you.”

  Monique pulled in a sharp breath, and the champagne flute slipped out of her fingers. The fine crystal bounced at her feet, and the expensive bubbles floated on the top of the luxurious carpet for a few seconds before they were absorbed.

  “Careless, I suggest you’ll be more careful in future.” Logan’s voice was almost a snarl as he continued. “Actions always have consequences, my dear, as you’ll find out. Don’t for one second believe I don’t know what’s been going on.”

  Monique made a rough sound at the back of her throat at this unmistakable threat, and Hannah almost felt sorry for her. Almost. Before she could say or do anything, however, Logan had propelled them through the thinning crowd, and out of the double doors. The Master of Ceremonies announced another victim on the stage, and when they were safely out of sight Hannah wrenched her elbow out of his grasp.