How to Resist Prince Charming(9)

Yep, he’d done it now. Depression settled over him as he let himself into his quiet brownstone apartment. After one innocent—ninety percent innocent, anyway—conversation, he’d become infatuated with Tom Davenport’s daughter.

Wasn’t that just lovely?





CHAPTER 3




Though Lenna told him she didn’t need an escort, her dad walked her to her door after driving her home from the party. It was nearly one in the morning, and the neighborhood outside her building was dead. When headlights actually turned onto her street as they were crossing the road, her dad stepped protectively closer and took her elbow.

She rolled her eyes. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she could jaywalk on her own. But he let go of his grip as soon as they hit the curb and stepped forward to open the main entrance of her building for her. The move was sweet enough to make her bite back the nasty comment.

They ascended two flights to her apartment in comfortable silence. He waited quietly behind her as she unlocked her door. After pushing it open and reaching around a corner to flip on a light, she turned back.

She gave him a smile and murmured, “Thanks,” for his consideration.

When he merely stood there and studied her thoughtfully, she squirmed. Okay, way weird. Why was he staring like that?

Her dad wasn’t the kissy, smoochy type. But Lenna lifted onto her toes anyway and pressed a peck to his cheek, tickling her lips on his bristly jaw. “I had fun tonight. Thanks for inviting me,” she said and started to pull away. But he grasped her elbow. Hard.

Their gazes met and she caught her breath at the rigid expression on his face. His lips pressed thin and his eyes narrowed to slits.

“What were you and Farris talking about at the bar for so long tonight?”

Lenna blinked at the unexpected question. “What?”

“What were you and my boss talking about?”

Her mouth fell open. “We were picking out names for our firstborn,” she said, stiffening her back. “Why?”

“Don’t play smart ass,” he growled. “Not this time. I’m serious, Lenna. What’d you two discuss?”

She gave an adamant shake to her head and eyed him warily, wondering where the heck this inquisition was coming from. Had he looked inside her and seen how much Braxton Farris had affected her?

No. Impossible. She’d been careful to hide her attraction.

But the way Tom frowned, he knew every dirty, delicious thought she’d had about the new president of Farris Industries.

“We didn’t talk about anything important. Why? Did you think he was feeding me company secrets?”

Her dad’s face only tightened more. “You know he only paid attention to you to irritate me, don’t you?”

Her lips parted. “Of course,” she murmured before acerbically adding, “I’m mean, there’s no possible way he could’ve actually been attracted to me personally. It must’ve been all about you, Dad.” She ripped her arm out of his hold, glaring.

“Lenna,” he started as if to apologize.

“No,” she cut in, holding up a hand. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to say, but I don’t like it. I’ll probably never see your boss again, so whatever’s bothering you is moot. All right?”

He sighed in surrender. Gripping her arm again, he pulled her into a half hug. “I’m sorry, kiddo. The thought of him sniffing around you just sends me into a rage.” He kissed her forehead. “I still had fun tonight dancing with you, though. Thanks for coming along.” Then he turned away and left.

Lenna gaped after him, not sure what to think.



Two weeks later, she was still confused by her father’s behavior that night.

His grip had been so strong and insistent; she could still feel his fingers biting into the skin above her elbow. She shifted the hefty gym bag on her shoulder and rubbed the spot where he’d left a faint bruise. Approaching Farris Industries for her monthly basketball workout with him, she had to admit basketball was the last thing on her mind.

It was crazy. She knew she shouldn’t be thinking about Braxton Farris or remember so clearly the small conversation they’d had at the Christmas party. But his face kept popping into her head at the oddest times. She’d enjoyed talking with him. She’d enjoyed him, period.

But the guy was totally forbidden. She couldn’t remember when her dad had last disliked someone so openly before.

She might as well thrust a knife into Tom Davenport’s back if she ever considered getting involved with the likes of his employer. In fact, in loyalty to her dad, she should probably even forget how animated she’d felt when he’d turned his baby blues her way and gazed at her as if she were something important.

It was a fruitless daydream, anyway. Braxton Farris came from a class scads above her own. He’d never honestly be interested in her.

But she wondered to herself, anyway. How would she go about resisting a man like him if he were ever to pursue her?

He was, like, perfect. A veritable Prince Charming. Lenna remembered how he’d looked in his tux and shivered. Prince Charming indeed. God, was it even feasible to resist Prince Charming? Why would a girl even want to—well, unless he was forbidden, as Braxton Farris was? But how would she ever begin to reject him?

Lost in thought, she opened the door. The strap of her bag dug into her shoulder again. She glanced down to reposition it, not paying a lick of attention to where she was going. But as she entered the building, she rammed her bag smack into a solid object that grunted out a sound of pain.