How to Resist Prince Charming(4)
In his head, she was already his, naked on his bed and moaning out her tenth orgasm. Realizing she was unavailable frustrated him. Fuck. He couldn’t even flirt with her.
Braxton gnawed on his bottom lip as he stared holes through Davenport’s daughter. Finally, he said, “Screw it,” before he drained his glass and slipped off his stool.
What harm could come from a simple introduction? He had to know what he was missing.
He wanted to sprint right over but held himself back. Casually, he slipped into mingling mode, smiling at a couple nearing the bar and thanking them for coming. He knew he should stop staring, but telling himself that and getting his eyes to cooperate were two different trials altogether.
She looked just as delicious from the back as she had from the front. The silver material of her dress cupped an ass that had his mouth watering and his hands itching to palm each glittery cheek.
Finally, she turned enough to give him a view of her side profile. Okay, so her tits weren’t the biggest he’d ever seen, but they were definitely more than a mouthful, which was all he needed.
Braxton swallowed, dazed by the force of his craving. This was the first time he’d been struck by such an intense wave of instant lust.
She listened to the conversation around her with a slight frown. He didn’t realize he was the main topic until Tom said, “Where is the kid, anyway? Tasha take him to the bathroom to change his diaper?”
“Dad,” the stunning woman at his side admonished, tapping him in the arm with her elbow. “Behave.”
Braxton grinned, utterly charmed. She didn’t even know him, yet here she was, defending him. He liked that. He liked it a lot.
“Actually, Tom,” he murmured from directly behind her. “I’ve graduated to the big boy potty these days. It’s got a kick-ass Mickey Mouse design on it and everything.”
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.”