Auctioned to the Bad Boy CEO Read online

  He released her this time, and Hannah straightened slowly, almost warily, while she regarded him through narrow eyes.

  “Good to know you still care about Premiere Events. Seriously, where have you been? You said that night wouldn’t affect our working relationship, yet you sack Monique, put Herringey on notice, and then stay away leaving me to deal with all the gossip. And if that wasn’t enough.” She glanced out at the office crowd, just about visible through the partially drawn blinds, and sighed, before she turned her back on them. “You then march in here, looking like this, manhandling me in front of everyone, and damaging company property to boot. What in the hell are you thinking? Or were you thinking at all? That night might not have meant anything, and lord knows I don’t expect you to declare your undying love or any of that nonsense, but don’t I deserve to be shown some respect? Damn you, Logan, this just confirms what everyone’s been saying. I’ve worked too hard for this to all unravel now, because of you.”

  Her voice started to wobble on the last few words, and she wrapped her arms around herself and blinked as though she was on the verge of tears. Seeing her this upset made him want to leap to his feet, wrap her up in his arms, and kiss her senseless. His little dove wouldn’t appreciate that one bit, though, and it would start their negotiations on entirely the wrong footing. So, he stayed put instead, stapled his hands in front of his face and raised his eyebrows.

  “When you’ve quite finished berating me, need I remind you of the fact that I am your boss, and strictly speaking talking to me like that, could get you reprimanded by HR?”

  Hannah opened her mouth as though to let rip—she certainly looked furious with the flush in her cheeks and her little frame positively vibrating in front of his eyes—but she slammed her mouth shut and settled for glaring at him. If looks could kill, he’d have to pick out his coffin. Logan smiled to himself, and Hannah threw her hand up in the air.

  “You are too much. If I didn’t need this job, I’d hand in my freaking notice. You know what? Have it. This is not going to work out, is it? What’s so damn funny, Mr. Bryce?”

  “Nothing at all. I was just thinking that I’ll gladly accept your resignation, because you certainly won’t be needing this job. My wife does not have to work.”

  It was rather satisfying to see her lips move silently, and to hear her sharp intake of breath, as he rounded his desk, and one hand on her shoulder, pushed her down into the chair facing it.

  “Sit down, Ms. Watson, before you fall down. Surely that idea is not that abhorrent? We know we’ll be compatible in the bedroom anyway, and it’s only for a limited amount of time until I gain full custody of Rhia. My solicitor is of the opinion that my single status would go against me in the hearings, and then there is the small matter of my ex-nanny and her boyfriend. He’s threatening to press charges, and as I refuse to be blackmailed by him, that will be another dark mark against me. Marrying a respectable young woman like you will negate all of that, especially with your history. My temper can’t be that bad, right, if you’re willing to marry me. We’ll have to pretend to be love’s young dream, of course, but the auction and all the gossip since will work in our favor there. I’ll simply pretend I fell in love at first sight and this was a whirlwind romance.” He paused, aware of how perfectly still Hannah had become. Were it not for her uneven breaths, and her pulse beating erratically at the base of her throat you’d have been forgiven to think she’d turned into a statue.

  Logan frowned. This wasn’t going at all like he’d envisaged it in his mind. While he hadn’t expected her to fall at his feet, this non-response was odd.

  “You’ll be handsomely reimbursed, of course. There are certain privileges with being Mrs. Logan Bryce.”

  The resulting slap to his face packed punch. Fortunately, he managed to block the next one, as Hannah’s fury unleashed on him.

  “How fucking dare you? I told you before I’m not for sale.”

  ****

  Logan’s astonishment at her outburst would have been comical had she not been at the receiving end of this colossal joke. And it had to be a joke. He couldn’t really expect her to go along with this, could he?

  “When did I ever say you were, Hannah? This is a simple business transaction. I need a wife. You’re single. We’re a good sexual match, so having to appear as though I can’t keep my hands off of you will not require a lot of acting. Here.” He took her hand and placed it firmly on his groin. His dick twitched at the contact, and he smirked at Hannah’s sharp intake of breath in reaction. “This is what you do to me. I can’t get you out of my freaking head, and I don’t want to. Not until this thing between us burns itself out, and it will. In the meantime, we can have some fun, and ensure Rhia gets to stay with me and not…”

  Hannah yanked her hand out of his grasp, and Logan swore under his breath.

  “Don’t make this about Rhia. Don’t you dare do that. Of course, she’s going to stay with you. Who else would step up? You’re family and—”

  “Not the only one. Rhia’s grandparents are the Lord and Lady Franningham and outstanding pillars of society, if you ignore the fact that they’re cold-hearted snobs. If they got hold of Rhia, she’d be shipped off to boarding schools and ignored all her life like Claudia was. I’d hate to see the light in her eyes dimmed, because she’d had to conform, or be disowned like her mother was for taking up with the trash—that would be me, by the way.” He smiled grimly at her sharp intake of breath. “Not that we were ever anything more than friends, but I was a bad influence, of course. The tattooed biker from the wrong end of town. How dare I lay a finger on their precious daughter, right?”

  Hannah smiled at this confirmation of her secret fantasies, and Logan stopped talking and frowned at her. Belatedly, she realized what he must be thinking and rushed to correct him.

  “I’m not smiling at that. They were clearly asses, just the fact you owned a bike.” She didn’t continue, far too aware of the blush stealing into her cheeks.

  “Meaning, little dove?” His voice dropped to that growly whisper which was a sure-fire signal for her hormones to do their come-to-mama-dance. She couldn’t hide her body’s involuntary shiver as the never far away sexual tension between them jumped to life like a spring released from its box.

  “Nothing, nothing at all, and stop it.” Hannah pushed him back—when had he gotten so close?—and he perched his butt on the desk in front of her. When he crossed his arms over his chest and cocked that darn eyebrow, she simply melted inside.

  Damn his arrogance and the effect he had on her.

  “Need I remind you what happens to naughty little girls who don’t answer my questions?” He dropped his voice further to that deep, gravelly whisper which acted like a live wire straight to her libido.

  “I’m not … you wouldn’t … we’re in the office, for God’s sake.”

  Hannah was painfully aware that her protests came out far too feeble and porn star breathy like, but, jeez … if he kept this up she’d have to start carrying around spare knickers.

  “I have just proposed to you, woman. Do you honestly think being at the office would stop me from putting you over my knee? I can do anything I damn well please with my fiancée.” He smirked at her sharp intake of breath. “Especially as the mere thought of my hand on your delicious butt makes you wet.”

  Hannah opened her mouth to deny that ridiculous notion, and his smile grew all kinds of sinful.

  “Deny it all you want, my sweet, but your body gives you away.” He reached across and flicked his fingers over one and then the other nipple, and Hannah gasped. Those traitorous little nubs hardened, strained against the confines of her bra, and she barely resisted the urge to squeeze her thighs together to relieve the ache in her pussy. Her internal muscles clenched under his mocking scrutiny, and if she got any wetter, he would be able to smell her arousal.

  With as much dignity as she could manage, Hannah somehow managed to stand.

  “I didn’t agree, Mr. Bryce, and tal
king to me like that at my workplace is akin to sexual harassment. I’m just going to go and pretend we never had this conversation.”

  She got as far as opening the door, before he was on top of her. One hand on the door, he slammed it shut, and the other hand on her abdomen pulled her back into his large frame. His hot breath ghosted across the sensitive skin of her neck, and she swallowed a moan at the feel of his long, hard erection pressing against her back. She couldn’t move, could scarce breathe, because his mere presence overpowered her. Traces of the cologne he wore, yet clearly hadn’t applied this morning, mixed in with the virile essence of unkempt male. The predator under the guise of the gentleman, who she had no doubt would make good on his promise to spank her ass right here in the office and damn the consequences. That really shouldn’t be such a huge turn-on, and had he carried on like this, she may well have managed to resist him, but he nuzzled into her neck, and she could feel the tension in his body. The sheer desperation in which he held her, breathed against her skin, and rested his head against hers.

  “Please, stay. I need you. We need you.”

  That gruff plea and the admission which he ground out through clenched teeth, did her in. There was a world of hurt behind those few words.

  “I can’t lose Rhia.”

  Images of the little dark-haired cherub flooded her mind, and Hannah swore under her breath.

  “I told you not to make this about her. It’s not fair, she’s—”

  “But this is all about her, don’t you see?”

  He released her, and bereft of his body heat, Hannah shivered. Her hand tightened on the door handle, but she couldn’t bring herself to use it and turned around slowly, to see him slumped back behind his desk. Her heart ached, seeing him this dejected, as though he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  “Fine, explain this to me then. Why are you so set against Rhia going to live with her grandparents?”

  His head shot up, and the silent anger in his dark gaze made her stomach flip over.

  “How about the fact that Rhia has no idea who the fuck they are? They disowned Claudia, told her never to darken their door again. She still extended the olive branch, invited them to the wedding, and then Rhia’s christening. I told her not to bother, they would never come, and they didn’t, of course. Rick, he…” He trailed off, ran an unsteady hand through his hair, and shook his head. “From what I can gather that was the first time he hit her.” Hannah couldn’t help her jerk in reaction, and Logan’s smile in answer didn’t reach his eyes.

  “Rick didn’t want Rhia christened at all. He hated anything to do with church, so much so, that he robbed Claudia of her dream of the big white wedding—they got married at Gretna, I kid you not.”

  “Well, that’s … did they elope then? Do folks still do that?”

  Logan laughed.

  “She was pregnant by then, and she wanted to get married before she showed, so my asshole brother convinced her this was the best way. It was shabby and cheap, but she was happy at least. Me, I could have strung him up. So many better places to get married quickly, but I digress. I talked him into the christening. Stressed how important it was to her, and he seemed okay with it. Little did I know that he was venting his frustrations privately on her with his fists.”

  Hannah’s eyes filled with tears at the scenario he was describing and the weight of guilt which made his voice hoarse.

  “You’re not responsible for your brother’s actions, you know. You couldn’t have known he—”

  “Bullshit.” That one word sliced through the air like a whip. His hands clenched around the armrests of his leather chair in a white knuckled grip, and he blew out several long breaths, before he relaxed his hold.

  “We both have a temper. His has always been more volatile than mine, or rather, he never really took the time to control it. Rick thrives on confrontation. Then again when you fight for a living, you have no reason to rein in your temper. He was a rising MMA fighter, until…”

  Logan stared in the distance, and Hannah cleared her throat.

  “I see—well, I don’t see. I don’t follow that. Never saw the point in watching men pummel each other for sport.”

  Logan made a rough sound at the back of his throat, and Hannah couldn’t stand the distance between them any longer. Rounding the desk, she sat on top of it, and put her hands over his.

  “That still doesn’t mean you should have seen this coming. Plenty of fighters who don’t go around beating up women.”

  Logan’s hands clenched, the tension traveling up through her fingertips almost too much to bear as he grunted.

  “I know that, but I still should have seen this coming.”

  Hannah rolled her eyes, and gave those tense digits a squeeze.

  “How? Jesus, yes, he was your brother, and she was your friend, but that doesn’t mean you should have known. I’ve met enough abused women and men for that matter in my time volunteering for the shelter to know they’re very good at hiding things.”

  He pulled his hands out from under hers and regarded her through narrowed eyes.

  “You volunteer? At the shelter?”

  Hannah nodded, and he rolled his shoulders and shook his head.

  “Why do I not know about this?” The question appeared aimed at himself than Hannah, but she answered it anyway.

  “No one knows, apart from the people involved, and I’d like to keep it that way. Folks only ever jump to the wrong conclusions. At best, they make me out to be some form of saint, and I really am not.” Her voice caught as her painful memories chose that moment to make a chokehold reappearance on her vocal cords. Damn it, not now.

  Logan shot to his feet, drew a cup of water from the water cooler in the corner of his office, and handed it to her.

  “Here.”

  Hannah smiled at him, and took some much-needed sips of the cool liquid to get rid of the frog in her throat.

  “Thank you, like I was saying, I’m no saint. On the flip side, I don’t need to see the pity in people’s eyes when they assume I must have some form of tragic history. As though I would ever let a man lay as much as a finger on me, let alone hit me. I had enough of that as a child.”

  Logan’s short laugh stopped her tirade.

  “Well, that’s not strictly speaking true, is it, little dove? We both know you enjoyed me doing much more than laying a finger on you.” His dark eyes glittered in barely disguised amusement, and while her heart leapt in relief that he’d lost some of his earlier despair, she also wanted to thump him. That thought brought her up short. She wasn’t a violent person, abhorred the concept, and yet, he seemed to be bring out the worst in her. He was just so darn infuriating. What was it about this man in particular, which got under her skin?

  Well used to taunts, she ought to be able to shrug it off, treating his suggestive and at times downright lewd behavior with the icy contempt it deserved. Any other man would have received the cold shoulder treatment, but Logan … she couldn’t ignore him.

  Maybe it was the glimpses of a tortured soul, the shared hurt of a violent past, or maybe it was simple lust. Maybe that was indeed all that was at play here, and if that was the case, then perhaps she ought to stop fighting it.

  “That’s not the same, and you know it. I gave my consent, and it was…” She couldn’t bring herself to continue, and besides there was no need to. Even now curls of desire unfurled in her belly, made her breathing hitch and her breasts ache for this man’s touch. If he made a move now, she wouldn’t, couldn’t stop him.

  A vague sense of disappointment filled her when Logan pulled back, seconds before the knock on his door made her jump and scramble off his desk. She hastily took a seat in the chair facing him, and picked up a notepad and pen—an action which earned her a short laugh from Logan—before he bade the person on the other side of his door to come in.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr. Bryce,” Claire Jackson, the company’s HR manager entered and looked at Hannah with a frown
. “I was told there might be a problem here that needs my intervention.”

  Logan steepled his hands in front of his face, and smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes, and the fine hair on Hannah’s arms rose at the expression on his face. Her stomach twisted at the barely concealed anger she sensed in him.

  “Now, why would you think that, Ms. Jackson?” His voice held an edge of steel, his disapproval of the other woman’s interruption like a visible wall he erected around himself, and Claire took a step back.

  “Forgive me, the other staff … well, they were concerned, and it is my duty to look out for all the staff, so if Hannah is having some sort of disciplinary action taken against her then I need to be here.” She straightened her shoulders, lips pressed into a firm line, and Hannah’s estimation of her grew. It was certainly true that HR always tried their best to accommodate everyone.

  Logan shook his head, glanced at Hannah and smirked. Her stomach clenched in worry of what he might do next.

  “Your professional interest is duly noted, Claire, but I can assure that any disciplinary action I wish to take with my fiancée is none of HR’s concern.” He held Hannah’s gaze, daring her to disagree with him, and it was on the tip of her tongue to refute that notion, but his tense shoulders stopped her.

  He nodded once when she didn’t reply, and focused his attention on a flustered looking Claire instead.

  “If that is all?”

  “I … that is … right. I guess congratulations are in order?” Claire looked at Hannah for confirmation, and she forced a smile on her face. “This is all a bit sudden, isn’t it?”

  “You should know by now that I don’t waste time in securing what I want, and I wouldn’t call it sudden,” Logan interjected. “Hannah and I have been in a relationship for some time. With the rumor mill going into overdrive, we decided the time was right to go public to reassure all these concerned people that our private life is just that and has absolutely no bearing on what happens here at work.” He paused, got to his feet, and opened the door for Claire in a clear dismissal. “If that was all?”