How to Resist Prince Charming(51)

She didn’t want to hide anymore. She wanted the world to know how crazy she was about Braxton Farris. It wasn’t fair her dad would condemn their relationship if he knew. He’d probably disown her, never talk to her again, and sell her off to some middle-eastern goat-herding family. But that was nothing compared to what he’d do to Braxton. She knew Brax would bear the brunt of Thomas Davenport’s wrath if he ever found out she was sleeping with his boss. The bad thing was, she had no idea exactly what it was Tom would do. She just knew she didn’t want to find out.

So she would keep up the distressing subterfuge. For Braxton.





CHAPTER 16




Braxton strolled into Farris Industries Monday morning, whistling and sending a greeting smile to every employee he passed. Most of them paused to gape after him, frowning in confusion over his unusually good mood.

He found Davenport in the break room, pouring a cup of coffee.

“Hey, Tom,” he called, making the man turn and eye him with a leery frown. Lifting the wrapped package under his arm, he held it out. “I got that thing you wanted from Paris.”

Tom stared down at the cream package and blue bow. “What thing?” he asked blankly.

Braxton hesitated and glanced at the other two people in the room. Ben Hendricks and Braxton’s secretary, Tasha, watched in open curiosity. He turned back to Lenna’s dad. “Umm...you wanted me to pick up a souvenir...for your daughter,” he prompted.

“Oh!” Tom took the gift from Braxton and frowned down at it, turning it over in his hands. “What the heck is it?”

“It’s an art print. By some guy, Too Loose La Track, or something like that.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Len—” He stopped quickly to clear his throat. His face turned purple as he coughed and pounded on his chest. “I mean, the lady...in the store...said he was famous.”

Tom nodded slowly. “I think you’re right. I’m sure I’ve heard Lenna mention that name.”

He continued to stare at the wrapped picture, making Braxton antsy. “Is that okay? I mean, was there something else you had in mind? Because you didn’t specify—”

“No!” Tom quickly cut him off. He lifted his eyes to Braxton and sent him a solemn look. “No, this is...perfect actually. I just assumed you’d buy a miniature Eiffel Tower figurine or the like. But, no. I think she’d prefer this. It’s more...Lenna.” Then he shocked the snot out of Braxton and said, “Thanks.”

For a moment, Brax couldn’t respond.

After clearing his throat again, he gave the man a brief nod and turned to leave.

But Tasha stopped him. “How was Paris?”

Braxton paused. “Paris,” he murmured and exhaled a breath of air, “was amazing.”

“So...business went well?” Tasha pressed.

“Oh!” Shit. For some reason, he hadn’t known she’d been asking about business. “Yeah,” he said. “Yes, as a matter of fact, our contact with Renault, Richard Trousseau, seemed very impressed with our product. He signed on with us, and I have a good feeling he’s not just going to renew his contract at the end of our term, but he might become one of our biggest buyers before long.”

He grinned at Tasha and winked. “I’d say, start looking for a raise in the near future.” Then he strolled away, taking up where he’d left off whistling.



The three in the break room stared after Braxton.

Finally, Ben murmured, “Wow. Who here thinks Boss Boy got himself a little bow chica wow wow while he was in France?”

As he lifted his own hand, Tasha raised hers as well.

Tom, however, contorted his face into a revolted scowl. “That’s disgusting,” he grumbled. “Are you two trying to make me lose my breakfast?”

He didn’t care to know about the little punk’s sex life. And when Ben and Tasha started to discuss how Braxton probably found himself some pretty French tulip to deflower, Tom huffed from the room, not wanting to hear another word.



Braxton couldn’t stop daydreaming. But something had changed. Something big had altered in his life.

He’d been fixated on Lenna since the first moment he’d met her. After spending three days straight with her, however, his fixation had flourished into a raving obsession. Now his every thought centered around her, wondering when he could see her again, listen to her voice, watch her green eyes sparkle when she smiled, taste her orgasm when she came against his tongue.

God, he had it bad.

Reliving the weekend in his head, he recalled a thought he’d formed when he’d been in France. He remembered how Lenna had enjoyed translating for him so much. And bam, the idea he’d been watering bloomed into fruition.

Before he could rethink his actions, he lifted the phone and called his friend Greg at ProTech.



Lenna was nearly ready to leave for work when her phone rang. Already dressed in her waitress uniform, she paused at the door before answering. “Hello?”

“Howdy,” a male returned.

Lenna frowned, not recognizing the voice. Thinking it was a telemarketer, she was on the verge of hanging up.

“This is Lenna, right?” he asked.

Cautiously, she answered, “Yes. Who is this?”