Auctioned to the Bad Boy CEO

by Doris O'Connor

  As revved up as she was Hannah didn’t need telling twice, not least because he pushed two fingers inside her channel and curled them in just the right way to drive her wild. Her internal muscles clamped down, and she flew head first into a climax so intense she saw stars as she gushed for him.

  By the time the room came back into focus, she was in back in bed tucked into his side.

  “Now, we’re even, minx.” Logan kissed her, a gentle meeting of lips, which meant the world to her. His gentleness proved her undoing, and she allowed herself to drift off safely cocooned in his arms. It would be so easy to read more into this, but she was only his for the night. She had to remember that.

  Chapter Four

  Logan jerked awake with a frown. The soft weight of Hannah’s delicious curves warmed his side, and the even puffs of her breaths across his jaw told him she wasn’t the reason for his sudden alertness. His little dove was fast asleep, worn out no doubt, after their earlier sexcapades.

  His cock jerked to life with a speed that left him rather lightheaded as all his blood pooled in his groin. So much for fucking her out his system. Having tasted her submission, made ten times sweeter by her usual fiery nature, he wanted to do it all over again. When was the last time he hadn’t woken up itching to get rid of the woman in his bed? Come to think of it, when was the last time he’d actually allowed himself to fall asleep with any of the women he’d bedded?

  Logan’s frown deepened, and then he heard it. A child’s sniffling, muffled cries, followed by a tentative knock on the doors to his suite.

  What the fuck?

  “Want Papa … I scared … Mummy…”

  Little Rhia’s heartfelt cries—a sure sign she’d had another one of her nightmares—made his chest tighten, and galvanized him into action. She oughtn’t be here at … fuck, four in the morning. What in the hell was Rosamunde thinking, bringing her here at this hour, when he was with…

  Logan swallowed another curse, mindful of the still sleeping woman in his bed. He carefully extricated himself from her delectable grasp, hastily shoved his legs into the old joggers he used for his time at the gym, and stalked out of the room. Another, much louder knock made the wood buckle, and this time he did swear out loud.

  He yanked the door open and came face to face with a disheveled, grumpy looking guy, who most definitely shouldn’t be anywhere near Rhia. This asshole reeked of cigarettes and the unmistakable odor of sex.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Logan’s growled curse had no effect on the other guy, other than to make him smirk. Not that he was paying him much attention because Rhia leaped across the threshold and wrapped herself around his leg in a bear hug. Her little body shook in fear, and his joggers were instantly soaked through with her tears.

  “I’m sorry, sir, she wouldn’t stop crying, and I did try and ring you, but you didn’t answer, so I had to bring her here. This is Jack. He drove me. Jack, that’s Logan Br—”

  “Never mind the fucking introductions. What the hell are you thinking dragging her across town at this time of night?”

  Rhia clung tighter, and Logan pulled a deep breath into his tight chest, when her sobs got louder. It wouldn’t do to lose his temper in front of the little girl. She’d seen more violence in her short life than any child should ever be subjected to, but damn it all to hell and back. He wanted to hurt someone, something, to make them pay for this mess. None of this was Rhia’s fault, however, and he forced his clenched fists to uncurl and patted her dark curls.

  “There, it’s okay, munchkin. Everything will be fine.”

  Tearstained, big blue eyes, ringed by long dark eyelashes, so reminiscent of her mother stared up at him, made his guilty heart clench in pain. Grief, remorse, and utter terror as raw and immediate as it had been the night this girl’s world had been turned upside down by the power of a man’s fists.

  He somehow managed to twist his lips into the semblance of a smile, and she stopped sniffling and popped her thumb in her mouth. She didn’t relinquish her koala bear impression on his leg, however.

  Behind him a door opened, and Hannah’s soft gasp piled yet more guilt on his head.

  “Well, hello there. Seems we interrupted something here, Rosa, babe.”

  Hearing this stranger address his little dove like that, and the insolent sneer as he appeared to look Hannah up and down made Logan’s good intentions fly out of the proverbial window.

  “Hannah, go back inside. This doesn’t concern you.” He flicked a glance over his shoulder and groaned. If this got out the papers would have a field day, because as adorable as Hannah looked wearing nothing but his shirt, she also looked like a thoroughly fucked woman. From the whisker rash on her neck, to the faint finger marks around her delicate wrists—fuck, I left bruises—to the disheveled hair, the kiss-swollen lips, and the blush that stained her pale skin, she practically screamed “had passionate sex”.

  “You.” He looked back at the other man. “Don’t get to look at what’s mine.” He fought the urge to plant his fist in this Jack’s insolent face, and addressed his incompetent nanny instead. “As for you.” He ran his gaze over Rosamunde’s appearance. The itty bitty little skirt and low-cut blouse she was wearing were most definitely not suited for looking after Rhia. Neither had they been the clothes this woman had been wearing when he’d left her in charge of the little girl. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

  “You’re fired.”

  Rosamunde reared back as though he’d hit her, and little Rhia started to cry again.

  “What? I haven’t done anything wrong. You can’t do that. She wouldn’t settle, and you didn’t answer your phone. What else was I supposed to do? This isn’t fair.” Her voice rose to a shrill whine, which went straight through Logan’s skull. Visions of wrapping his hand around her throat, of closing off her air supply to make her shut up bombarded his brain, not helped by Jack piping up.

  “Of course, he can’t do that, babe. You have rights. I know who you are, and I have friends at the papers. They’d just love to know the great Logan Bryce shagged up with some bimbo while his little girl needed him, so … argh … what the fuck?”

  The imbecile’s nose gave a very satisfying crunch under Logan’s knuckles, and he welcomed the resulting pain that shot up his hand. Rosamunde paled and screeched, which made Rhia abandon her hold on his legs. She darted under the coffee table, hands over her ears, and Logan’s gut churned. Fuck it, now she looked frightened of him. As for Hannah, hands on hips she glared at him, and then grabbed hold of the box of tissues, walked over and handed them to a groaning Jack.

  “Here, use those, and for the love of God, stop screeching, woman. You’re scaring the little girl.”

  “I’m scaring her. He … he hit my boyfriend. How dare he? We’re gonna sue. I’m gonna fight this. They warned me at the agency. Said he had a temper, but fuck this. You don’t get to sack me. I quit.”

  Logan shrugged and stared the woman down.

  “Be my guest. Don’t expect me to pay you a penny, though. You were supposed to look after her, not use your time to have it off with the likes of him.”

  He snarled the words, satisfied to see them have the required effect, because the sorry excuse for a nanny gasped and took several steps back dragging her whining boyfriend with her. It was laughable, really, the fuss the guy made. At worst his nose was broken, hardly that big a deal. Logan had broken his more times than he could count in his ill-begotten youth.

  Adrenaline still soared through his veins, and he wanted nothing more than to get into a proper fight with the asshole. Not that he would. All mouth and no fucking trousers, clearly, because this Jack almost ran down the corridor. Logan cursed at the curious bell boy who appeared from the lifts, no doubt wondering what all the commotion was about, and slammed the door shut.

  Rhia jumped, hit her head on the coffee table and promptly burst into renewed tears, while Hannah swore under her breath. The look she threw at him made him take a step back. If he’
d thought he’d seen her angry before, he hadn’t seen anything yet. Little Hannah positively vibrated with fury, as she got right into his personal space and hissed at him.

  “Jesus, Logan, I have no idea what the hell is going on, and I’m sure I don’t want to know, but control your temper. The poor girl is terrified. Look at her.”

  Seeing Rhia cower in fear should have been an instant bucket of water over his emotions, yet the opposite was true. It made him want to go after his unwelcome visitors and do some real damage. This was all their fault, damn it. Hannah’s hand on his chest stalled his forward movement. Fuck, he’d had his hand on the door handle. What the hell was wrong with him?

  Get a grip.

  “What’s her name?” Hannah’s whispered question got through the rage, which still had him in its firm grip, and he shook his head to clear it.

  “Rhia.”

  “Okay, stay away from her and get yourself under control. I’ve got this.”

  He wanted to protest, this was nothing to do with Hannah after all, but seeing her crouch down so that she was eye-level with Rhia, and the tender smile she offered the terrified munchkin rooted him to the spot.

  Hannah reached out to touch the ear of the bedraggled looking floppy rabbit Rhia carried around everywhere.

  “Hey, there, my name is Hannah. Who are you?”

  Rhia stopped crying, clutched her rabbit a little tighter to herself, and watched Hannah with red-rimmed huge eyes.

  “What’s that, I’m silly, and you can’t speak? Well, you’re right, of course, but I bet you can talk to little Rhia here, right?”

  Hannah smiled at Rhia and then made a big show of cocking her head as though she was listening to something only she could hear.

  She clapped her hands and laughed. Rhia frowned as though Hannah had lost the plot, and maybe she had. Logan sure as hell didn’t know what she was up to, but it seemed to be working at least. Rhia’s tense little shoulders relaxed slightly, and the death grip she had on Mr. Hoppy lessened somewhat.

  “Yes, I think you might be right there. I just bet he does a grand job of looking after Rhia.” She continued to give a good impression on listening to someone. Rhia looked over to Logan, and he shrugged. A tiny smile formed on Rhia’s cupid mouth, and when Logan nodded, she held Mr. Hoppy up.

  “Mr. Hoppy wants to know who you’re talking to.” Rhia’s voice came out low and thready, but at least she was talking.

  Hannah sat down on the floor, giving him a tantalizing flash of her bare bottom in the process, and Logan swallowed a groan. He should rot in hell for noticing how satisfyingly red that skin still was, and her slight wince as her butt made contact with the luxury carpet shouldn’t please him. Not at all. Nor should it make his palm itch to repeat that experience, before he buried himself balls deep back inside of her. Further proof if ever he needed any that he was indeed a perverted bastard, not fit to be around a child, like Rhia’s grandparents claimed. His mood darkened further, and he pushed those thoughts away, and concentrated on the magic that was happening right in front of his eyes.

  After everything she’d been through Rhia didn’t trust easily, yet Hannah coaxed a genuine smile from her when she started talking.

  “Ah, well, nice to meet you, Mr. Hoppy, by the way.” She reached out to take one of the stuffed animal’s paws, and gave it a good shake. Rhia giggled, and the tense ball of emotion which churned in Logan’s gut slowly unraveled. “I had a rabbit just like you when I was growing up. He sits on my bed at home, and when I listen really hard, I can hear him. He was just telling me how brave your Mr. Hoppy is, and what a good job he does looking after you. He’s worried about you though, because it’s really late, and you should be in bed. Isn’t that right, Mr. Hoppy?”

  Hannah smiled at the stuffed animal, and Rhia sighed.

  “Don’t like sleeping.”

  She hugged the rabbit closer, and her little bottom lip wobbled. Hannah looked toward Logan with a query in her face, and he slowly edged closer.

  “She has bad dreams.”

  Rhia shuddered and nodded.

  “I see, well, we can’t have that. You know what always helps me to chase away the bad dreams?” Hannah asked as she got to her feet. She looked around the living area of the suite as though she was searching for something. Her gaze stopped at the writing bureau, and she walked across to pick up the pen and paper.

  “I write the bad dreams down. I know you can’t write yet, but perhaps you can draw them. Once I’ve done that I rip the paper into lots of little pieces and flush it down the loo, and bingo. They’re gone, for a little while at least.”

  She approached the coffee table Rhia was still sitting under and held out her free hand. Rhia looked from that hand to Logan and back again, and when he smiled at her, she took Hannah’s hand and finally came out from under that table.

  “Thatt’a girl. Here, you sit right here on the couch and start drawing. I’m just gonna talk to your daddy out there. Is that okay?”

  Hannah pointed to the veranda, which afforded breathtaking views over London at night, and then helped Rhia hop onto the settee. Seeing her tiny form on that huge, antique couch made him swallow. She shouldn’t be here, should never have had to deal with any of that, as she bowed her head and started scribbling on the notepaper.

  “K, I draw.”

  “That’s it, munchkin.” Not caring about his audience, he stepped over and dropped a kiss on her curls. Rhia dropped everything in her hands and wrapped her little arms around his neck in a stranglehold, which tore at his heartstrings. He didn’t deserve her love, but he would damn well make sure she was safe.

  He hugged her back, murmuring nonsense, and when she let him go and picked up the paper and pen again, he joined Hannah on the balcony. Arms wrapped around herself to no doubt stay warm against the cool night air, she whirled around to face him, when he pulled the doors shut behind him.

  She glanced toward the settee, where Rhia’s head remained bowed over the notepad, and then fixed her expressive eyes on him. Oh, yes, she was still utterly furious with him, and his cock jerked in his joggers. Now was so not the time for sex, but it seemed that particular part of his anatomy had a mind of its own around Hannah. It didn’t help his current state one iota that, with the light spilling out from the suite behind her, she might as well not have been wearing anything

  “You better have a good explanation for all this, Logan. What in the hell is going on?”

  ****

  Hannah’s hands cramped in the tight grip she had on his shirt in an effort to not take the man by his impossibly big shoulders and shake some sense into him. Not that it would have done any good, even if she’d managed to do that. Without her heels, she only reached mid-chest on him, and the coldness of the balcony was slowly seeping through the soles of her feet, adding to the shivers she didn’t seem to be able to shake off. Now that the immediate adrenaline rush was wearing off, she felt the cold even more out here, but she could have hardly had this discussion in front of his daughter, and she was so not going back in that bedroom.

  Logan sighed, ran a hand though his messy hair, and stared out over the city view. Damn the man. Even having witnessed his temper, the violence he exhibited toward that admittedly vile man, she still wanted him. Great sex had to be addictive or something, but this right here, that little frightened girl, feverishly drawing on that couch, that was far more important than scratching any itch, and she wanted, needed answers.

  The silence stretched between them, heavy and oppressive, until she couldn’t stand it anymore.

  “Damn you, talk to me. Why is your daughter sitting on that couch, clearly terrified out of her wits, or is that none of my business, too?” That comment flung over his shoulder, when she’d first walked out into this mess, still stung, and Hannah hated the wobble in her voice.

  “Rhia is not my daughter.” Logan didn’t look at her when he said that, his voice so deep and raw, laced with pain it took her breath away. His white-knuckled grip on
the railing and the way his whole body had tensed were other indications of his mental state, which made her want to reach out to him and offer comfort.

  She resisted, however, taking refuge in the righteous anger that bubbled up inside her at his lying to her.

  “Of course, she’s your daughter. She calls you Papa, for fuck’s sake, and besides she’s the spitting image of you apart from her eyes. I’m assuming they’re her mother’s. Where is she by the way? What the hell happened to that little girl, and you best tell me the truth or I’ll—”

  “You’ll what?” Logan interrupted her, and she took an involuntary step back at the fury behind those few words, as he addressed her. He looked as angry as he’d been when he hit that guy, not that he hadn’t deserved it. She could still feel the other man’s lecherous gaze running over her, and bile rose in her throat. That look and his accompanying words had made her feel so dirty, as though she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t. Which simply wasn’t true. There were no rules against sleeping with your boss, and gah, she was such a fucking cliché.

  How had she ended up in this position, freezing her butt off on a balcony at the Savoy, facing down her furious boss while wearing nothing but his shirt? Her back hit the rough stone of the wall, and she swallowed hard when he closed the distance. One hand either side of her head, Logan crowded her in, and her traitorous body responded to his nearness with predictable results. At least she wasn’t cold anymore, not pressed against him as she was, so close that she could feel him harden against her belly. Logan inhaled sharply and rested his forehead on hers.

  “Why do I still fucking want you this much?”

  It wasn’t a question that required an answer. It sounded more like a plea, and echoed her own frustrating emotions so clearly that her anger fled.

  “Your daughter, she…” Hannah couldn’t continue, because his entire body tensed, and a deep animalistic growl came from the big chest she was pressed against.

  “For the last time, woman, she is not my daughter.” He pulled back just enough to glare down on her, and there was no denying the sincerity of his reply. Hannah swallowed, licked her lips, and nodded.