Auctioned to the Bad Boy CEO

by Doris O'Connor

  “Fine, if she’s not your daughter, then—”

  “She’s my niece, Hannah.” He pulled away and stared back out over the view. “I have an identical twin brother. He’s currently rotting in prison for having beaten her mother into a coma, so it falls to me to look after her.” He paused at the gasp, which Hannah couldn’t help but utter, and gave a short, grim laugh. “She was there when it happened, hid in the wardrobe, hence the nightmares.”

  He glanced into the suite, and Hannah followed suit. Rhia was still drawing. Her little tongue had come out in her concentration, and Hannah’ eyes filled with tears at the horror of the situation, an echo of her own past. At least she’d had her sister. Poor Rhia’d had no one.

  “That’s … I’m so sorry.”

  Logan swung back around, and the grief edged in his features took her breath away.

  “Why?”

  “Why what?” she responded in kind, not at all sure what he was getting at.

  “This is why I don’t make a habit of telling people. They’re always fucking sorry. Why? You’re not the one who used his fists on her mother. You’re not the one who should have seen this coming. You’re not the one who ignored the bruises he saw, believed the excuses, and didn’t step in until it was too fucking late. You’re not the one who introduced one of his best friends to his brother. You’re not, fuck … I can’t do this now.”

  Logan’s voice broke, and in a move so fast she never saw it coming he punched the wall behind her.

  The dull thud and his accompanying grunt of pain should have scared the bejesus out of her, should have made her run far away from him, but instead she grasped his fist and dropped a kiss on the swollen and bleeding knuckles.

  “Then don’t, and stop hurting yourself. You’ll only scare her more than she already is, and it won’t change anything. Trust me, I know.”

  Logan made a rough sound at the back of his throat and pulled his hand away. He flexed it few times and winced.

  “You should put some ice on that,” Hannah said.

  “I should do a lot of things.”

  He closed himself off again. She could almost see the bricks going up around him, as he stared off into the distance.

  “None of this is your problem, Hannah. You didn’t sign up for this, so I’ll call you a cab or something. I’m—”

  “You’ll do no such thing, Logan Bryce. Besides, no doubt my dress is ruined, and if you think for one minute that I’ll be doing the walk of shame out of here in that dress, and at this hour, you’ve got another think coming.”

  His lips quirked up into the semblance of a smile at her outburst.

  “What are you going to wear then? Leaving in my shirt will cause even more tongues to wag, I wager.”

  Some of his usual arrogance returned with that statement, and Hannah breathed a silent sigh of relief.

  “I know that. I was more thinking that the butler service that comes with these suites will be able to go and procure some jeans and a top for me once the shops are open. Lord knows, I’ve dealt with the bills for that sort of thing often enough for some of our more illustrious clients who stay here, so I can’t see any reason why I shouldn’t take advantage of that for myself. And then, there’s Rhia. I promised her we’d flush those bad dreams down the toilet, and she looks as though she’s done.”

  Sure enough, the little girl looked up at that moment and gave an almighty yawn.

  “She looks exhausted,” Logan said and then opened the doors and strode back in the living area, leaving Hannah no choice but to follow.

  “All done, munchkin? Let me see?”

  Hannah’s heart gave a rather suspicious bump, seeing the two of them together, bend over whatever the little girl had drawn. The resemblance really was uncanny. Logan’s jaw tightened, and that flash of pain was back when he glanced up from the paper and looked at Hannah.

  She stepped closer and bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from reacting when she saw the drawing. As childlike as it was, there was no mistaking the emotions behind the drawings. A smaller figure was on the floor, a rather menacing looking larger figure on top, and the paper had holes where the biro Rhia had used had gone straight through the thick note pad, showing the force she’d used. A force that was echoed in the wide splodges of black which spread out from the figure on the floor. Hannah swallowed past that huge lump of emotion lodged in her throat when it dawned on her what that must represent.

  She fell, rather than sat down on Rhia’s opposite side and blinked away tears.

  Rhia traced those splodges and hugged her beloved rabbit closer with her free hand.

  “Is that what you dreamed about, sweetie?” How Hannah got those words out she would never know, and she saw Logan’s thighs tense in her peripheral vision. He was taking deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth, as though he was struggling to hold onto his emotions, and her heart reached out to him.

  None of this could be easy for him, yet he was here, looking after his niece, while dealing with his own demons.

  “Daddy hurt Mummy. Always hurts … hear her scream in my sleep.”

  Logan shot to his feet then, and Rhia jumped. Her thumb went back in her mouth as she watched him pace to and fro like a caged lion.

  Hannah shot him a warning glare, and he stopped that pacing and muttering and got to his haunches in front of her.

  He took Rhia’s little hands in his.

  “Shall we try what Hannah said? Rip up this bad dream and flush it away?”

  Rhia gave a tiny nod, followed by another huge yawn, and he scooped her up in his big arms.

  “Well then let’s do that. Will you do the honors, please?”

  Hannah, too, rose and smiled at the wide-eyed little girl, as she ripped the piece of paper in half.

  “Yes, let’s do that.” By the time they’d made a big production of tearing the drawings into gazillions of pieces, and helped Rhia flush every last piece down the toilet, she was falling asleep in Logan’s arms. The gentle way he carried her through to the spare bedroom, tugged her under the covers, and dropped a kiss first on Mr. Hoppy’s head and then hers—clearly a well-established part of their bedtime routine—made Hannah want to cry in earnest. Rhia looked so terribly small and fragile in that big bed all by herself. When Logan didn’t seem to want to leave her, Hannah made herself scarce and made her way back into the living area. The bowl of strawberries and the bottle of champagne, still somewhat cold in its cooler, called her, and she helped herself. The bubbles exploded on her tongue, and she was in the process of biting into one of the lush fruits when Logan reappeared. His tense features relaxed when he saw her, and he grinned. A lazy, far too dangerous to her hormones smile, as he stalked across the room to her.

  “Ah, I’d forgotten all about those.” He tugged the half-eaten strawberry out of her hands and popped it in his own mouth. “I had all sorts of wicked things planned for those.”

  Hannah knew her own mouth had fallen open, but really, what was she to make of that? A cry from the room Rhia was sleeping in broke the sexually charged moment. Logan made a move back to the room, but nothing further was heard, and he stopped, uncertainty written all over his features.

  “Leave her. I think she’s still asleep. She’ll eventually stop having these. I’m assuming she’s having counseling?”

  Logan sighed, abandoned the champagne, and poured himself a far too generous measure of whisky. He downed the amber liquid in one go and poured himself another.

  “I’d go easy on that. You want to hear her if she has another nightmare, right?” The glass stopped halfway to his mouth, Logan swore, and then slammed the heavy crystal back on the sideboard with so much force Hannah was surprised it didn’t break into smithereens.

  “Fuck it.”

  He turned around, parked his butt on the edge, and crossed his arms over his chest. It exposed another tattoo on the underside of his arm.

  Claudia followed by a broken heart. With sudden insight, Hannah kne
w just who that must have been, and stepping closer, she ran her fingertip over the ink.

  “Her mother?” she asked.

  “Yes, I had it done after … well, when it became apparent she wasn’t going to wake up. They turned off her life support, but she confounded everyone by breathing on her own. It shouldn’t be possible with the amount of damage her brain sustained, yet there it is. So, now she’s caught in limbo, and we wait.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to say how sorry she was again, but the bruised knuckles of his hand stopped her. He wouldn’t appreciate empty platitudes, and that’s all that would be.

  “Is there any chance she might wake up?” she asked instead.

  Logan shrugged and shook his head.

  “She’s defied the odds so far, but I can’t see how. There’s always a slight heart rate elevation when I bring Rhia to visit her, so we think she has some awareness, but who the fuck knows?”

  A heavy silence fell between them, and it was Hannah’s turn to sigh.

  “Sorry, I promised you a night of fun, and you get all this.”

  Hannah offered him a wobbly smile.

  “It was fun, and this isn’t your fault. It really isn’t.” When he didn’t answer her, just ran his injured hand through his hair and grimaced as though he was in pain, Hannah rolled her eyes. The ice in the champagne bucket had melted, but this was the Savoy. Aware of his quietly watching her, she marched over to the phone and pressed the button for reception.

  “Yes, hello, I’m ringing from Logan Bryce’s suite. Could you please bring up some more ice, urgently? Oh, and a clean hand towel? I know it’s the middle of the night, but…”

  A polite laugh came down the phone line.

  “That isn’t a problem at all, madam. Anything else we can help you with?”

  Oh, to heck with it. In for a penny in for a pound and all that.

  “Actually, yes there is. Could someone purchase some jeans and a plain t-shirt for me when the shops are open, please. Size 14, petite lengths in the jeans.” She threw Logan a glance, somewhat embarrassed at having to say her size in front of him, but the man had explored every inch of her already. He knew full well she wasn’t a stick insect model type, and he seemed to like her body well enough. Sure enough, his gaze grew heated as he ran it slowly over her body, and Hannah ended the phone call rather more breathlessly than when she started it.

  “I’ll pay for the clothes of course.”

  Logan shook his head.

  “Not a chance. The state of your dress is my fault, after all.”

  Hannah wanted to argue, but the knock on the door stopped her. Logan strolled across to open it and then stepped aside to let the tired looking bellboy push in the trolley containing a large bucket of ice and several folded hand towels.

  “Just leave it there, thank you.” Logan walked over to the chair which held his tuxedo jacket, pulled out his wallet, and handed the youngster a bill.

  “For your time.”

  “Thank you, sir.” The young man who couldn’t be a day over eighteen, bowed, glanced at Hannah, blushed, and hightailed it out the room.

  Logan’s amused laughter washed over her, as she stepped up and wrapped a generous handful of ice in one of the towels.

  “I do believe the poor lad didn’t know where to look, not that I can blame him. You look hot in that shirt … ouch.”

  Hannah slapped the ice on his hand with much more force than was necessary, and grinned up at him when he glared at her.

  “You are full of shite, Logan Bryce. Now hold still and let the ice take down the swelling.”

  Logan grumbled something and tugged her hair behind her ear with his uninjured hand.

  “And you, sweet little Hannah, have a decidedly bossy streak.”

  “And don’t you forget it.”

  Chapter Five

  A much more comfortable silence fell between them, while Hannah fussed over his hand. The woman constantly amazed him. He would have expected her to hightail it out of the suite the minute Rhia had been asleep, yet here she was taking care of him.

  She wasn’t stupid or reckless, so he could only assume that she deemed him not to be threat. His hopeful mood evaporated like mist on a summer’s morning, when she pulled his hand under the light of the side lamp to presumably see it better.

  “There, that’s better. The swelling has gone a down a lot. You might just be able to use that properly tomorrow. Seriously, don’t go around bashing walls. It’s not good for your health.”

  He could hear the teasing note in her voice, and sure enough she was smiling when she looked up at him, a smile that faltered as she took in his expression.

  Logan turned her hand over and locked his jaw as the extent of her bruising became visible under the light. He traced his thumb over that digit’s imprint left behind in her pale skin, and shook his head.

  “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  The thump to his chest with her free hand took him by surprise.

  “Don’t be a fool. That’s nothing, and I bruise far too easily anyway. I rather like them.”

  He reared back, sure she must be having him on, but Hannah traced the remnants of his possession on her skin and sure enough her lips curved into a fond smile.

  “I know, it’s not politically correct and all that jazz, but I liked you going all caveman on me. Trust me, if I hadn’t I’d have told you. And before you ask, no, I can’t explain why, and it doesn’t really matter, but these are the fun kind of bruises. Trust me, I know the difference.”

  Her voice wobbled on the last few words, which added to the bad feeling he was having about all this.

  “Meaning?” He didn’t mean that one word to come out quite so forcefully, and, sure enough she jumped and took a step away from him. Logan cursed under his breath and scrubbed a hand over his face. He was so fucking tired of all this shit.

  “Forgive me, I just need to know that you’re truly okay with this. I didn’t mean to—Fuck.”

  He stopped talking and downed that measure of whisky after all, the burn down his throat a welcome distraction from the churning unease in his gut.

  Hannah sighed and stepping closer took that glass off of him.

  “I’m okay with this, truly.” She worried her bottom lip with her teeth, when he looked at her, a sure sign that she was mulling something over, and then she straightened her shoulders as though she’d come to a decision.

  She looked toward the closed to door of Rhia’s room and nodded.

  “She’ll be okay, too, you’ll see. It will take time, but with your love and stability she’ll get over the nightmares.”

  Logan snorted in answer. “You assume me to be capable of love.”

  Little Hannah rounded on him, hands on hip, and he swallowed a groan. She had no idea how beautiful she looked when she got all riled up like this. It made him want to fuck her all over again, but with his niece sleeping fitfully mere yards away, he really would be a bastard on act on that impulse. Besides, Hannah was his employee, and they’d muddied the waters enough. It was best to end this right here and now. Especially as he got the distinct impression that losing himself in her luscious body again would only give him ideas. He shouldn’t crave a repeat experience so soon. Rather than fuck her out his system, he seemed to have achieved the opposite. What the fuck was that all about?

  Usually, once he’d fucked a woman he couldn’t wait to get rid of her. What made Hannah so damn different, other than the somewhat fraught circumstances of Rhia’s arrival, of course? That had to be the reason why he felt so out of sorts. All the more reason to distance himself. Morning couldn’t come soon enough all of a sudden.

  “Don’t be an ass, of course you love her. That much is obvious, and she loves you, too. You just need to find the right nanny for her. Why does she have one anyway? Surely, she’s old enough to go nursery. There’s an excellent Montessori one not too far from work. I think she’d thrive there. Not cheap, but money is hardly an issue for you.” She glanced
around the opulent surroundings of his suite with a smirk, and he shrugged.

  “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  Hannah rolled her eyes at him, a move which made his hand itch to spank that insolence out of her, but he didn’t have the right to do so. She might consent to some erotic fun in the bedroom, but out of it was an entirely different matter. Even more reason to distance himself, because this woman made him wish for things that could never be.

  “Clearly not. Seriously though, it worked wonders for my sister. She’s thirteen years younger than me, and well, I’ve been looking after her since she was born. My mother…” Her voice hitched, and she didn’t look at him when she continued speaking. “Let’s just say she wasn’t much of a mother. I managed to get Sarah into our local Montessori with the help of the social workers, and she thrived there, away from the violence at home, you know.”

  All the puzzle pieces clicked into shape in his head, he blew out a breath, not at all sure what to say to that, so he simply nodded.

  “Anyway, it could have been worse. Her good for nothing boyfriends never hit Sarah, at least. I didn’t fare quite so well, but I learned pretty quickly to stay out of the way. Wardrobes were our friends, too. We used to pretend we escaped to Narnia.”

  He swore under his breath, and his fingers itched anew to do some real damage on her behalf, but that wouldn’t achieve anything. Instead he crossed his arms over his chest and forced himself to simply listen. He owed her that much, and he instinctively knew that she didn’t talk about this often.

  “I left home with Sarah the minute I turned sixteen. Got a job at Premiere Events in the mailroom of all places.” She laughed and glanced his way. “Then I’m sure you know that, after studying my personnel file.”

  Logan grinned and shrugged.

  “I was very impressed by that resume by the way. It’s how I knew this auction idea of yours would work. Of course, I didn’t plan on this.” He gestured between them and rather enjoyed the way Hannah’s cheeks turned pink.