How to Resist Prince Charming(5)

She shot her elbow into his arm to remind him he didn’t want to be insubordinate.

But before her dad could respond, a voice spoke from behind her. “Actually, Tom. I’ve graduated to the big boy potty these days. It’s got a kick-ass Mickey Mouse design on it and everything.”

For a split second, Lenna froze. By the mortified expressions on everyone else’s faces, she had to guess the new arrival to their group was the very host they were belittling.

She turned slowly and almost let out a yelp of shock to find his gaze riveted on her of all people.

But, wow, what a gaze it was.

“Hi,” he said, the corner of his mouth hitching up with striking appeal. “I think you’re the only person here I haven’t met yet.”

She could only stare.

This was her father’s new boss?

But he was frigging gorgeous. No one had mentioned he was a complete hunk in between all their degrading remarks. Why the hell hadn’t someone warned her about his total hotness? She felt entirely unprepared.

He reminded her of a young Pierce Brosnan. His eyes were even as blue as the actor’s.

Tall and built with the blackest hair she’d ever seen, he fit his tux to perfection. It hugged his wide shoulders and revealed the width of his deliciously narrow hips. A bizarre image of cupping those hips between her thighs as he pumped into her caught her off guard.

Dear Lord. What was wrong with her? She never had sex visions of a guy when she just met him.

He cordially held out a hand. She gaped at his extended palm. Holy shit, he wanted her to touch him? Staring at his long, tanned fingers and short nails, her eyes widened. Oh, no. No, she didn’t think she could touch him without melting into a drooling puddle.

She couldn’t tell if her dad sensed she was drowning in young Pierce’s blue gaze or not, but he latched a hand around her shoulder as if to pull her back to reality. She had to admit, she was grateful for the move, otherwise she might’ve lost it and thrown herself at the new president, peeling off articles of clothing as she went.

Her dad let go almost as soon as he grabbed her though. “Sweetheart,” he said, sounding reluctant to make introductions. “This is Braxton Farris, the, uh, the new president of Farris Industries. Farris, my daughter, Lenna.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lenna,” her father’s hot boss said.

She had to repress a shudder of delight as the resonance of her own name settled over her. Lenna had never sounded so pretty until he said it. She could actually picture him repeating it in exactly that same manner as he laid her on a bed of silky sheets and interlaced their hands so he could guide her in gliding the backs of her palms over smooth satin covers while he pressed his bare, heated chest to hers and lowered his mouth to—

Damn. There went her horny brain again. Seriously, she was really going to have to rein in her imagination. It was getting out of control.

Remembering he still held out his palm for a shake, she flushed and quickly took his fingers. His skin was warm and so inviting she didn't want to let go. She lifted her eyes to his, and a bolt of pure lust slammed into her; she immediately pulled away. As she did, the pad of his thumb grazed the knuckle of her thumb. By the zing it shot through her, he might as well have slid his hand up the hem her dress and inside the crotch of her panties.

And there went another vivid, dirty image exploding through her synapses.

“Oh,” she gasped quietly, not meaning to let the exclamation escape.

The humiliating part was that Braxton Farris heard her little slip. His eyes sprang to hers, where they glittered with awareness.

Guiltily, Lenna’s gaze darted to her dad. But he hadn’t seemed to notice any part of the embarrassing exchange.

“My youngest is sick tonight,” he explained. “Since my wife decided to stay home with her, I dragged Lenna here with me.”

Braxton Farris smiled at Lenna again. “Well, at least she’s stopped kicking and screaming, I see.”

Lenna grinned at his joke, but her father didn’t.

“Pardon?” Tom said, frowning slightly.

Mr. Farris cleared his throat, his smile faltering. “Kicking and screaming,” he repeated. “You said you’d dragged her here.” When Tom continued to give him a blank look, he added, “You know the saying, dragged, kicking and screaming.”

“Oh,” Tom grumbled.

Lenna wanted to pinch her dad. Then she wanted to sink into the floor and die of humiliation. Risking a glance at Braxton Farris, she noticed he looked just as uncomfortable as he yanked at his bow tie.

An uneasy silence fell among the three of them. She bit her lip, thinking she should somehow smooth ruffled feelings.