Chapter 5
“Next up for auction is the delightful Ms. Hannah Watson.” The Master of Ceremonies’ announcement
shook Logan out of his thoughts, and he smirked at little Hannah’s reaction. If ever there was a woman
who shied away from the limelight, which now quite literally shone on her, it had to be her. His little
dove looked so pale and fragile under the spotlight trained on her, it made him want to march over
there, wrap her up in his arms and take her away from all this spectacle. That impulse alone should
have made him abandon his n. Logan had enough emotional entanglements waiting for him at
home, but the thought of anyone else gaining the right for herpany rooted him to the spot.
"Up youe, Ms. Watson. I should add that we owe tonight''s splendor to the fair hands of thisdy. I
have it on good authority that this whole event was Ms. Watson’s brainchild, so let''s put our hands
together to show our appreciation, shall we?"
Thunderous apuse apanied Hannah''s progress onto the stage, and not unlike the nickname
he''d bestowed on her, she appeared ready to take flight. Her crystal blue eyes looked too big for her
heart-shaped face, and even across the room, he could see the wild stato of her pulse in her neck.
Her impressive rack strained against the confines of her dress, her breath appeared toe in short
gasps, and she looked on the verge of a panic attack as the bidding started.
Logan hung back, silently amused at the way the bids stepped up rapidly. It seemed he wasn’t the only
one in attendance tonight who appreciated a real woman when they saw her. He barely bit back a
“Going once, going twice, for five thousand pounds on the lovely Hannah. Do we have any more?” The
Master of Ceremonies raised his hammer onest time and waited. Just before he brought it down
Logan intervened.
“Ten thousand!”
A collective gasp went through the assembled crowd, and Hannah dropped her head and appeared to
be praying for divine intervention. Monique gave a very good and most unattractive impression of a
goldfish—he really would have to deal with here Monday morning—while the silver-haired guy,
who had driven the bids up thus far, threw Logan a nce, and then shook his head at the Master of
Ceremonies.
“Sold for ten thousand pounds to none other than Logan Bryce. Thank you for your generosity and
Logan slowly made his way across the room, and by the time he reached the stage some color had
returned to his little dove’s cheeks. In fact, she positively vibrated in fury, and, sure enough, when he
drew close and nudged her chin up with his forefinger, the furious look in her eyes would have felled a
lesser man. Too bad for her that her outrage only served to make him harder. It would be such fun,
indeed, to tame the little spitfire in front of him.
“Shall we get out of here, little dove?” he asked.
“How dare you? I’m not going anywhere with you. You’ve set this up, haven’t you? Well, you’ve had
yourugh at my expense. I will not do this. I can’t. I’m not for sale, damn you.”
The words, delivered in a hissed whisper for his ears only, brought with them more of the subtle flowery
scent he''d noticed earlier. It wasn''t a fragrance he could ce. Certainly not one of the more cloying,
expensive perfumes he was used to from the women in his acquaintance. Hannah''s scent was all her.
Fresh and light, it brought to mind meadows in the summer breeze, like the kind his brother and he had
yed in when they were children. Long before Rick had been responsible for beating his wife into a
pulp. Long before Logan''s own and far too painful brush with the women''s refuge.
“Are you not, my dear? Yet, here you are, to all intents and purposes mine for the next twenty-four
hours.” He blocked the hand poised to connect with his cheek easily enough, and pulled Hannah away
and off the stage and their fascinated audience.
“Now, now, little dove, violence is never the answer. Isn’t that the motto of the evening?”
Hannah kicked his shin, and he cursed under his breath as pain shot up from that abused part of his
body.
She looked utterly mortified at her action, as confirmed by the words tumbling out her mouth.
“Jeez, let me go. This isn’t me. I’m sorry I kicked you, but for God’s sake enough of this.”
Amusement reced his annoyance, and he chose to wind her up a bit more.
“That’s the oddest apology I ever heard, I have to say.” He didn''t release his grip on her wrists. Instead,
he marched her backwards until her back
hit the wall, and using his considerable body mass crowded her in.
“It also changes nothing, and, besides, do you really want the charity to lose ten grand, because you
don’t trust yourself in mypany?”
He grinned at her outraged gasp.
“You wouldn’t renege on your donation?” The breathy question shot straight to his groin, and he shifted
to relieve the ache in his balls.
“Maybe not, but are you really willing to take that risk, little Hannah?”
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She opened her mouth to no doubt chew him out some more, but whatever she read in his expression
stopped her.
“Don’t stop protesting now. It’s rather amusing to see you fight this thing between us.”
“What? There is no us. Let me go. I’ll scream.” That breathy moan of a reply wouldn’t disturb the wings
of a butterfly, but it made him even harder.
He dipped his head and whispered the next words into her ear.
“You don’t really want me to let you go, do you?”
She gasped in answer. Hot little puffs of air ghosted across his jaw, further testament that she wasn’t as
unaffected as she’d like him to think she was. Hannah bit her lip, and the hand she had poised on his
chest to push him away curled into thepels of his tuxedo, instead, and raising herself up on tiptoes,
she reiterated in kind.
“Yes, I do.”
His big shoulders shook in silentughter, and she arched away slightly to re up at him. It only made
his amusement deepen.
“I mean it. Let. Me. Go.” She entuated every word with a tug at his jacket. He did just that, and she
would have stumbled had he not put a hand out to steady her. The minute she got her bearings on the
killer heels she wore, he released her, stuck his hand in his trouser pocket and pulled out a key card.
“Fine, have it your way, little dove. If you change your mind this is the key to my suite.” He held it out to
her, and when she took it smirked down on her. “Be very sure this is what you want, however.” He
leaned in and dropped his voice to that growly whisper guaranteed to get to thedies. “Let’s be
absolutely clear about what I want. If you choose to use that key, you’re mine to do with as I see fit,
little dove.” He paused and traced the outline of her lips with his thumb. The urge to kiss those plump
lips drove him hard. What’s more she wouldn’t resist him. The subconscious way she leaned into him,
parted her lips, and her little tongue darted out to touch the tip of his digit told their own story. Such a
fucking turn-on.
However, there were too many people milling about, and they’d given the gossipmongers enough to
hark on about.
He smiled and cupped her jaw instead.
“I don’t do love. I don’t domitment, and whatever you decide will have no bearing whatsoever on
your standing at work.” He nodded when she couldn’t seem to help her tiny jerk of reaction. “Neither
will I renege on my donation. I’m not that guy. However, I would very much like to fuck you, my sweet.
No strings, no promises, just one night of fun. And it would be fun, that I can promise you. So…” He
withdrew his palm slowly, and Hannah shivered at the loss of contact. “Over to you, Ms. Watson.”
Chapter Two
Oh, the man’s arrogance was infuriating and arousing in equal measures. The feminist in her wanted to
tell him to take a hike, but her inner hussy did her haven’t-had-a-good-shag-in-ages jig, followed by the
I’m-so-going-to-getid-tonight dance.
“I—that is… You can’t speak to me like that.” Hannah tried her best to ignore her raging hormones and
attempted to re up at him. Having to crane her neck to do so rather spoiled the effect she was going
for here. Not so much righteous indignation at his proposition as pure, flustered, “take me, I’m yours”
female. Judging by the knowing smirk he wore, he knew exactly what lustful thoughts were bombarding
her brain right now.
Namely the two of them rolling around silk sheets, sweaty limbs entwined. Then again, he might be the
type to tie up his women, for all she knew. He certainly gave off that dominant vibe in spades.
“Can’t I, little dove? I think you find I just did, and why beat about the bush? I want you. You want me.
We’re two consenting adults, so let’s not pretend.” He bent his head so that his far too tempting mouth
was hovering mere inches over her lips. “Tell me you’re not wondering about what I meant by fun,
sweetie, and are getting nice and wet on whatever you’re imagining I might do to you.”
Hannah opened her mouth to protest, but nothing but a very unbing squeak came out. Logan
simply smiled and held out his arm for her take.
“Think about it. Either way, I need to make my goodbyes, so, shall we?” The gentlemanly move was so
at odds with what he’d just said to her, she ced her hand on his forearm without thinking, and he led
her back into the ballroom. The fact he headed straight toward Monique wasn’t lost on her. In her heels,
she had trouble keeping up with his long strides, and that was the only reason she carried on clinging
onto his arm like the proverbial limpet.
At least that’s what she told herself. This whole thing was unreal, and if it wouldn’t have made her look
like aplete lunatic, Hannah would have been tempted to burst into hystericalughter. Not least,
because Monique looked as though she was sucking lemons rather than sipping a flute of the finest
champagne money could buy, as Logan approached her.