How to Resist Prince Charming

by Linda Kage

  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.”

  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.

  Mr. Farris rubbed the back of his neck and treated both Lenna and her dad to a tense smile. “Anyway,” he murmured. “I hope you both enjoy the rest of your evening.”

  Then he backed a step away, turned on his heel, and escaped.

  Lenna immediately spun to Tom. “Dad!”

  “What?” He glanced at her with a don’t-start-with-me scowl.

  Her mouth dropped open. “Are you always that rude to your boss?” No wonder the new Mr. Farris had threatened insubordinate termination.

  Her dad’s answer was a small, unconcerned shrug. Lenna drew in a sharp breath, shocked to discover her father had an enemy. She’d never seen him so hostile before. He must truly and honestly despise having Braxton Farris for a superior.

  * * * *

  She’d seemed nice. Hell, she’d seemed sweet.

  Braxton wanted to bash his head against the top of the bar where he sat.

  Staring at the lovely stranger from across the room hadn’t been enough for him, had it? No, he’d just had to go over there and meet her. Yep, and now, every night when he went to sleep, he was going to see the little dimple on the corner of her mouth that had appeared when she’d smiled at him. At him! God, she’d even blushed when she’d noticed him ogling her with her dad standing between them. If that wasn’t asking for Tom to strangle him, he didn’t know what was. The man already thought Braxton was the anti-Christ.

  Now that he’d had a close-up of her face, though, heard the sound of her voice, and seen her sweet, polite smile, Braxton knew he was a goner.

  He never should’ve gotten close enough to experience the rays of her smile. He felt sunburned in a good and hot, achy kind of way.

  She danced with her dad a few times, and she took a swirl or two around the floor with a few of his cronies. But she never danced with anyone closer to her in age. Braxton decided not to push his luck in that department.

  He stayed away.

  Slouched on his stool, swirling white wine around the inside of his glass, he waited for an opportune moment to leave when he heard her voice. His body tensed as he listened to her order the same brand of wine he was currently chugging.

  Braxton lifted his head and turned. She didn’t notice him next to her. He knew he should let it slide.

  But he couldn’t seem to obey his brain.

  “Sure you’re old enough to drink that?” he asked, causing her to whirl his way.

  She blinked twice. After graciously accepting the wine glass the bartender passed her, she nodded toward his drink. “Are you?” Her eyes teased as she sipped.

  Braxton beamed. She was going to talk to him. Yes!

  “Well…” He bit his lip, unable to help himself. “I will be in four months.”

  Lenna choked on the sip she’d just taken. “Oh, my God. You’re only twenty?”

  He pulled his walled from his pocket and flipped it open to show her his I.D. She impressed him when she actually stepped forward and grasped the side of his billfold to check for herself.

  A small wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows. “But this says you’re twenty-four.”

  “That’s because I am.” At her confused glance, he threw his head back and barked out a laugh.

  With an appalled gasp, she slugged him lightly in the arm. “You are so evil. I actually believed you.”

  His chuckle began to settle. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it. But Jesus, do I really only look twenty?”

  She blinked and scanned him from head to toe, which made his entire body throb. “Maybe a very mature twenty.”

  God. He wanted to touch her. So bad.

  He cleared his throat. “Yeah, well. Your dad treats me like I’m twelve, so I guess it all evens out.”

  When her mouth pinched together with disapproval over the mention of Tom, Braxton gritted his teeth and commanded himself not go there again. Taboo subject. Do not enter.

  Panicking because he’d messed up and she was probably going to leave, he blurted out, “Other than annoying company presidents trying to put one over on you, are you having a good time?”

  She nodded. Her eyes were bright and somewhat glassy. He figured this wasn’t her first glass of wine tonight.

  “I feel like Cinderella,” she admitted, and then blushed as if embarrassed for divulging such a claim.

  Braxton almost uttered something else corny in response, something like it was too bad Cinderella couldn’t hold a candle to her.

  But he managed to restrain himself. Thank God.

  He glanced over his shoulder toward the dance floor. “Well, princess, have you picked out your prince yet?”

  Lenna turned and studied the room. Playing along, she tapped her chin and murmured, “Hmm. I guess I’m still debating between Pat Foley and Charles Fairbanks.”

  Both men had to be over sixty. Pat was bald, and Charlie was about forty pounds overweight.

  Braxton laughed and spun his stool around to watch the two men she’d named. “Yeah, I understand the indecision. Though I’m not sure Mrs. Fairbanks would appreciate it if you swept Charles off to happily ever after.”

  Lenna glanced at Braxton and eyed him thoughtfully. “You prove a good point,” she agreed, and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

  He had no idea why, but the move struck him as one of the most erotic things he’d ever seen. If only he could tug at her supple lip with his own teeth.

  Jerking his gaze from her mouth, Braxton jiggled his foot, hoping that would keep the blood circulating and not pooling in his lap.

  He stopped breathing when she touched the stray hair tickling her neck and tucked it behind her ear as she turned to study the balding widower. “I guess that leaves Pat by default,” she announced.

  “Uh, not that I’m critiquing your decision. That’s completely up to you, of course.”

  “Of course,” Lenna agreed, smiling like maybe she was enjoying their talk as much as he was.

  Braxton nodded, ever serious. “But are you sure you’ve considered all the possibilities?”

  Lenna’s eyes scanned the room again. She turned back to him, frowning slightly. “Why? Who’d you have in mind?”

  Braxton knew he shouldn’t shift the mood, but his mouth didn’t listen to his brain as he softly answered, “Now that question’s just loaded with trouble.”

  Lenna’s eyes flashed wide, probably realizing he’d taken her comment differently than she’d meant. She’d no doubt been planning on him to point out some other old codger as a possible candidate, someone like Ben Hendricks, perhaps.

  And here, he had to go and admit he’d like to apply for the position of her prince.

  Her face flamed bright red. “I’m sorry,” she spilled out, looking worried and a little scared. “I didn’t mean—”

  “No, it’s okay,” Braxton assured her, already shaking his head. “I knew what you meant. I shouldn’t have—” He broke off and glanced away, feeling like a bumbling moron.

  Jesus, what kind of tactless idiot attended the company Christmas party, only to hit on an employee’s kid and strike out majorly? Way to pull off the professional appearance he’d been determined to project tonight. He’d rather spook Lenna Davenport off by picking his nose and wiping the booger on her dress.

  “Just ignore me,” he mumbled.

  When he risked a mortified glance her way, he found her still blushing. She guzzled from her drink as if her throat had gone bone dry. Then she waved a hand in front of her watering eyes and clutched her half-full glass until the wine inside splashed against the sides.

  When she looked at him, her lips parted and her chest rose—not once, not twice, but three times in a succession of jerky movements, telling him she was sucking in too much air. Then her bare shoulders fell as she exhaled.

  Braxton’s humiliation died an instant death as he watched. Mother of God. He hadn’t turned her off.
He’d amped her up. She was just as excited by him as he was by her.

  Forget professionalism. He was totally going to hit on his employee’s kid.

  “I’ve heard Tom mention he has three children,” he said, starting fresh as if they hadn’t been heading toward forbidden territory. “Where do you rank in there?”

  Lenna finally lowered her glass, looking beyond grateful they’d returned to safe ground.

  “I’m the oldest.”

  He grinned. “Really? I’m the oldest of three, too.” When she sent him a startled look, he asked, “Do you have younger brothers or sisters?”

  “One of each.”

  Interest jolted through his abdomen. “Me too.”

  Lenna Davenport looked equally startled they shared a common trait.

  A moment of silence followed, so Braxton said the first thought that entered his head. “They can be a pain sometimes, though, can’t they?”

  Lenna blinked. “What can?”

  “Younger siblings. I remember when I first moved out, both of mine seemed to think my place was their second home.”

  “Oh, my God.” Lenna brightened as she squeezed his arm. “I know exactly what you mean. My brother, Aaron—he’s in high school—he keeps begging to have his friends over for a party in my apartment.”

  Braxton laughed. “What a coincidence. My brother, Tyler, actually did that a year ago, without asking.”

  Her jaw dropped as she gasped. “You’re kidding.”

  He shook his head. “Nope. I came home from work late one night to find two dozen complete strangers—all underage college kids—just milling around my house like they owned the place.”

  Eyes wide as she listened, Lenna seemed entranced by his every word. “What’d you do?”

  Shrugging, Braxton’s eyes glittered with mirth as he said, “I made myself a margarita and joined the fun.”

  When Lenna blinked, he realized she thought he was serious. He laughed. “I kicked them out,” he relented. “Told them the cops were on their way.” He shook his head at the memory. “I swear, I’ve never seen anyone move so fast. And they didn’t even leave any good liquor behind.”

  Lenna rolled her eyes, but she continued to grin at him as she nudged his sleeve with a playful shove. “And your brother? What’d you do to him?”