How to Resist Prince Charming(8)

“That’s the problem.” She leaned closer to confess, teasing him out of his mind with the light scent of vanilla. Man, oh man, did she smell good.

“I have no idea what I really want to do.”

He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to lean toward her and press his mouth to that stray hair curling down her neck. It was still driving him nuts. Taking his eyes off the lock, he glanced out at the crowd of dancers, desperately trying to hold himself together.

“Well, there’s any number of things you can do with that degree,” he heard himself say. “Maybe you could be the spokesperson for a corporation.”

Yeah, he could see her making a good public relations person. She was attractive, polite, well-spoken...But when she grimaced at the idea, he laughed. “Or maybe not.”

“Actually, I’ve thought about that. But...” She shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t have any idea what I do want. I just know what I don’t want.” She glanced at him, uncertain. “Does that make any sense?”

Damn, he wanted to kiss her.

But he stuck to the conversation at hand like a good boy. “It makes perfect sense.” She looked so confused and lost, he found himself itching to cover her hand and give it a supportive squeeze. “Just don’t leap into some career that isn’t what you want merely because it’s taking you too long to decide, okay?”

Jesus, where was this counsel coming from? Her problems were none of his business. But, for some reason, he couldn’t stomach the thought of Lenna Davenport being miserable with the life she chose.

“Good things come to those who wait,” he said, realizing he’d just quoted his father. Then he shrugged and grinned. “Or so I’ve heard.”

Lenna’s return smile seemed to glow so brightly it blinded him. “Thank you. That actually makes me feel better.”

He forgot to breathe. The rest of the room faded away. His chest expanded and burned. Why did she have to be Tom’s daughter?

“Is that what happened to you?” Her lips were moving, but he couldn’t seem to hear a thing she said.

Forcing himself back to reality, he said, “Hmm?”

He told himself to snap out of it. Quit thinking what he was thinking. She was forbidden. But his mind just kept heading south.

“Is that what happened to you?” she repeated and then clarified, “With your first job. Did you leap into it, even though it wasn’t what you really wanted?”

His first job. What had been his first job? He couldn’t seem to get past how pretty her green eyes were. God, he was such a sucker for green eyes.

Oh, right. First job. ProTech.

“No,” he said. “Oh, no way. I loved my first job. I don’t know if you’ve heard of it. ProTech. Actually, that’s short for Protection Technologies. My best friend started it and asked me to help him out.”

Lenna sent him a confused frown.

Wanting to explain, he waved his hand. “ProTech is a security company, basically, for the Internet. We create virus protections and firewalls. Or different websites will contract us to work out any bugs they may have.” He paused when he noticed Lenna giving him a funny, perplexed look. “What?”

“You really liked it there,” she murmured.

His smile was genuine. “Yeah. I did.” ProTech had been his life.

Lenna tipped her head to the side and studied him a moment. “Then why’d you leave?”

Braxton froze, wishing he had a sledgehammer handy to jar himself over the head.

He’d neatly set himself up for that question, hadn’t he? Damn. “I...uh...”

He was saved from having to answer when, for the first time since he’d become president of Farris Industries, he actually welcomed the sight of Thomas Davenport approaching.

“Lenna!” Tom called, hurrying toward the bar.

She jumped and whirled toward her father. “Daddy!” she said in high voice.

“Sweetheart, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Tom glanced accusingly at Braxton.

“I was just, uh, ordering a drink.” Lenna lifted her wine to prove it.

Then she chugged. She swallowed twice before coming up for air, telling Braxton everything he wanted to know.

Thinking she wouldn’t be so nervous if he hadn’t affected her, Braxton hid a smile. Oh, yeah, he liked the idea of affecting Lenna Davenport.

Tom eyed her drink. “How many of those have you had?”

Lenna scowled and set the glass on the bar beside Braxton’s. “Dad,” she scolded. “I thought you said you weren’t going to act all fatherly tonight. You said I could enjoy this party to my heart’s content.”

Tom glowered. “I’ll worry about my daughter if I want to.”

“Well, stop it and just come dance with me.”

She grabbed his arm and tugged him toward the floor.

Her eyes strayed to Braxton as she led Tom away. In their depths, he saw guilt, shame, and excitement. As he watched her go, he took a moment to admire her while her father twirled her around.

Then he turned away and drained his glass. He stayed at the bar for a while, hoping she’d return to retrieve her drink. But she never did. Braxton finally surrendered to the inevitable—it wasn’t meant to be—and went home, disappointed.