How to Resist Prince Charming (3 page)

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?”

Okay, that was two shoulder touches in less than five minutes. If she went for a third, he’d be down for the count.

“Well, I debated whether or not I should beat him to a pulp,” he managed to say, though he couldn’t take his eyes off her hand, hoping those delicious little fingers would land on his knee—or God, his thigh—next. “But then I thought the sweeter revenge would just be to call Mom and Dad. So, I did that instead.”

When the dimple at the corner of her mouth appeared, Braxton thought he was lost. Damn, he liked Lenna Davenport. She was exhilarating.

Talking to her was more euphoric than biking a steep mountain and standing at the top to look down at what he’d accomplished.

He could only imagine what sex with her would be like. And imagine he did. Her hair would have to come down first, so he could watch it tumble over her shoulders. Then the dress. He’d unzip it slowly to build the tension, maybe even kiss each inch of skin he revealed. Once the silver material pooled around her feet, he’d—

Lenna seemed to realize his stare had changed from friendly to interested. She blushed and glanced away, taking another restless drink.

Braxton expected her to excuse herself and search out her father, but he was delightfully surprised when she turned back to him. “So, that was a year ago?”

He nodded.

“You worked somewhere else before you came to Farris Industries then?”

Braxton’s brows scrunched together. “Well... yeah.”

He’d only been at Farris three weeks. What exactly did she think he’d been doing in the past two years since he’d graduated from college?

Her blush deepened as if she’d just realized her
faux pas
. “I’m sorry,” she quickly apologized, lifting her hands as if to wave away her mistake. “It’s just that my dad...I mean...It’s nothing. I’m really sorry.”

Jesus, Tom must’ve been complaining about his dear boss at home too, to his entire family.

Clearing his throat, Braxton said, “Well, I’m sure the way your dad tells it, my father yanked me straight from the cradle and plopped me in the president’s seat.”

Lenna lowered her eyes and watched her fingers fidget.

He winced. Shit. He shouldn’t have said that.

Her father was not up for discussion. Why did he keep bringing Tom up?

There was no way she’d touch him again now.

“Actually,” he said, once again trying a new track in the vain hope of keeping the conversation afloat, “I’m kind of an IT computer geek.” Oh, yeah, that really made him out to be the ultimate alpha male. God. “The only reason I got a BBA was so I could major in Computer Science for a systems programming degree.” There, that sounded marginally better.
Not.

She lifted her eyes. When he saw the interested expression on her face, a knot loosened in his chest.

“So, what did you do before you, ah, came to Farris?”

“Well...” he drew out, taking in a long breath before he started. “It took me over a year after I graduated to find the job I wanted.”

“Really?” Her eyes lit with excitement. Then her shoulders relaxed and she set a hand over her heart. “A whole year? That makes me feel
so
much better.”

Braxton paused and gave her an odd smile. “Just a guess here, but are you having trouble finding a job?”

“It’s been seven months!” she growled.

Unable to stop himself, Braxton grinned. “What was your major?”

“Communications. With an emphasis in Public Relations.”

“Ah,” he murmured. “That would explain your eloquent speech.”

Lenna wrinkled her nose. He wanted to close his eyes and slap a hand to his forehead for such a lame observation.

“Umm. Thanks,” she finally answered.

“So,” he said, more than ready to move past his mortifying comment. “What exactly do you
want
to do with your communications degree?”

“That’s the problem.” She leaned closer to confess, teasing him out of his mind with the light scent of vanilla. Man, oh man, did she smell good.

“I have no idea what I really want to do.”

He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to lean toward her and press his mouth to that stray hair curling down her neck. It was still driving him nuts. Taking his eyes off the lock, he glanced out at the crowd of dancers, desperately trying to hold himself together.

“Well, there’s any number of things you can do with that degree,” he heard himself say. “Maybe you could be the spokesperson for a corporation.”

Yeah, he could see her making a good public relations person. She was attractive, polite, well-spoken...But when she grimaced at the idea, he laughed. “Or maybe not.”

“Actually, I’ve thought about that. But...” She shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t have any idea what I do want. I just know what I don’t want.” She glanced at him, uncertain. “Does that make any sense?”

Damn, he wanted to kiss her.

But he stuck to the conversation at hand like a good boy. “It makes perfect sense.” She looked so confused and lost, he found himself itching to cover her hand and give it a supportive squeeze. “Just don’t leap into some career that isn’t what you want merely because it’s taking you too long to decide, okay?”

Jesus, where was this counsel coming from? Her problems were none of his business. But, for some reason, he couldn’t stomach the thought of Lenna Davenport being miserable with the life she chose.

“Good things come to those who wait,” he said, realizing he’d just quoted his father. Then he shrugged and grinned. “Or so I’ve heard.”

Lenna’s return smile seemed to glow so brightly it blinded him. “Thank you. That actually makes me feel better.”