How to Resist Prince Charming(4)

Her entire circle of people whirled and gawked with similar expressions of horror. She was the last to swing around, her creamy, bare shoulders tensing before she rotated. And then the breath slammed out of him as she lifted her face and he met her gaze.

It was like staring into a glimmering sea of bright, curious, startled green.

He couldn’t help it. He smiled. “Hi,” he said, oddly winded. “I think you’re the only person here I haven’t met yet.” She was by far the only person here he’d like to strip naked.

He extended his hand.

And it all started with a single touch.





CHAPTER 2




Lenna couldn’t believe this place. The ballroom of Farris Industries was breathtaking. Half a dozen chandeliers dripped from the ceiling like fine jewelry and illuminated the room with a glistening glow. Her heels sank into the cushiony softness of the deep velvet red carpet with every step she took, making her fear she was going to trip and fall flat on her face any moment.

The members of the live band wore classy, fitted matching suit jackets and thrilled the crowd with a country western favorite. People packed onto the dance floor, which was tiled with an assortment of marble squares.

Others mingled at the bar and covered buffet, while most sat at round tables where waiters strolled past with silver trays full of champagne and hors d’oeuvres.

Decked out to the nines, everyone around her chatted casually as if this were their daily practice.

But seeing her father’s co-workers, Ben and Pat and Charles—who were all like second fathers to her—wearing distinguished tuxedos was so strange, she kept blinking to make sure she was awake.

She felt like a princess who’d just stepped into happily ever after. Realizing she probably looked like a dweeb with such a goofy smile plastered to her face, she lifted her eyes and decided to pay attention to the discussion around her.

“Tasha says he doesn’t drink coffee but comes in with a bottle of soda pop every morning,” Ben Hendricks said, making everyone around him snicker.

Lenna frowned, not sure why preferring soda to coffee was so gasp-worthy. She edged closer to her dad. “Who’re we talking about?”

“Our boss,” he said from the side of his mouth.

She lifted her eyebrows, surprised the group would so openly bash the very man sponsoring tonight’s event. “And who’s Tasha?”

Her dad sent her an impatient look. “His secretary.”

“I heard he takes the crust off his bread when he eats a sandwich,” someone else said. More snorts followed. “And he wore jeans and sneakers to work last Saturday.”

Turning back to the group, Lenna’s dad spoke up. “Where is the kid, anyway? Tasha take him to the bathroom to change his diaper?”

“Dad!” Lenna gasped, appalled. “Behave.”

She shot her elbow into his arm to remind him he didn’t want to be insubordinate.

But before her dad could respond, a voice spoke from behind her. “Actually, Tom. I’ve graduated to the big boy potty these days. It’s got a kick-ass Mickey Mouse design on it and everything.”

For a split second, Lenna froze. By the mortified expressions on everyone else’s faces, she had to guess the new arrival to their group was the very host they were belittling.

She turned slowly and almost let out a yelp of shock to find his gaze riveted on her of all people.

But, wow, what a gaze it was.

“Hi,” he said, the corner of his mouth hitching up with striking appeal. “I think you’re the only person here I haven’t met yet.”

She could only stare.

This was her father’s new boss?

But he was frigging gorgeous. No one had mentioned he was a complete hunk in between all their degrading remarks. Why the hell hadn’t someone warned her about his total hotness? She felt entirely unprepared.

He reminded her of a young Pierce Brosnan. His eyes were even as blue as the actor’s.

Tall and built with the blackest hair she’d ever seen, he fit his tux to perfection. It hugged his wide shoulders and revealed the width of his deliciously narrow hips. A bizarre image of cupping those hips between her thighs as he pumped into her caught her off guard.

Dear Lord. What was wrong with her? She never had sex visions of a guy when she just met him.

He cordially held out a hand. She gaped at his extended palm. Holy shit, he wanted her to touch him? Staring at his long, tanned fingers and short nails, her eyes widened. Oh, no. No, she didn’t think she could touch him without melting into a drooling puddle.

She couldn’t tell if her dad sensed she was drowning in young Pierce’s blue gaze or not, but he latched a hand around her shoulder as if to pull her back to reality. She had to admit, she was grateful for the move, otherwise she might’ve lost it and thrown herself at the new president, peeling off articles of clothing as she went.

Her dad let go almost as soon as he grabbed her though. “Sweetheart,” he said, sounding reluctant to make introductions. “This is Braxton Farris, the, uh, the new president of Farris Industries. Farris, my daughter, Lenna.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lenna,” her father’s hot boss said.

She had to repress a shudder of delight as the resonance of her own name settled over her. Lenna had never sounded so pretty until he said it. She could actually picture him repeating it in exactly that same manner as he laid her on a bed of silky sheets and interlaced their hands so he could guide her in gliding the backs of her palms over smooth satin covers while he pressed his bare, heated chest to hers and lowered his mouth to—