Auctioned By The Ceo

Logan smiled to himself as he approached the Savoy’s Lancaster Ballroom several weeks later. No expense had been spared for this event, and little Hannah had done the company proud. Not only had she secured an impressive number of celebrities willing to allow themselves to be auctioned off, it seemed she had changed her mind about being on stage herself. He’d been surprised and, if he was honest with himself, somewhat irritated when he’d seen her on the auction list. Ever since her passionate delivery of a proposal clearly very dear to her heart, and her subsequent wardrobe malfunction, his body responded to her nearness with the predictability of a teenage boy’s. It was irritating and uncomfortable in equal measures.

He was an experienced man for fuck's sake, and that brief glimpse of creamy flesh spilling over the top of a sensible cotton bra shouldn't have had the power to wake up his libido with the force of a roaring lion. That's exactly what it had done, however. It had taken a hell of a long time for his erection to subside, which meant he'd had ample time to sit in that chair and peruse her proposal in some detail. Like her personnel file had suggested, Hannah Watson was a hardworking, trustworthy individual, a real asset to the firm. Too bad the previous owner—a chauvinistic asshole, the worst Logan had ever had the misfortune to associate with—made it a habit to promote only the males of the company.

Add to that the underlying air of sexual harassment, and one of his first tasks of CEO had been an overhaul of the policies on equal employment. Logan might be a ruthless bastard when it came to the companies he took over, and he had no compunction in tearing a company apart and rebuilding it, but he appreciated hard work and loyalty when he saw it, and Hannah had all those things in spades. A little dynamo who hid her curves under sensible work attire that made a man itch to discover what lay beneath.

Not that Logan was that man. No, with the current shitstorm in his private life, the last thing he needed was to get entangled in any sort of romance. And little Hannah Watson definitely was the happy ever after type, or so he had thought until she'd come up with this proposal. Maybe the little dove held a naughty side after all.

He swiped a flute of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter and perused that list in his hand again. She was definitely on there, so maybe he could finally use this opportunity to get her out of his system.

for this project, and there didn't seem to be any love lost between the two women now. Seeing them seemingly engaged in a discussion over the auction list gave

offence in its own right, and one he would deal with once this auction was over, it

in soft waves and tumbled halfway down her back, playing peekaboo with the graceful curve of her spine. A wide band of fabric held the gown together in the middle of her back, a concession for a bra to support her ample rack, no doubt, and

the heavily made up brunette plastered a fake smile on her face when she spotted

Bryce, so good to see you here. I

glare of her expressive eyes before she lowered her gaze and murmured her own greeting. He didn't miss the flush of anger on her pale cheeks, or the way her breasts heaved with her sharp inhales. The little spitfire

I interrupted something,

head. "Of course, not. There was a simple misunderstanding with the scheduling, which I shall now sort out. Do excuse me, and Hannah was just telling me how much she loves to dance." Monique had the audacity to wink at him and then teetered