Chapter 1
Chapter 1
“The theme of the evening will be ‘Violence is never the answer’.” Hannah finished her presentation
with as much flourish as she could muster, considering the stunned silence that made the room fall as
silent as a morgue.
"That's insane. You're supposed to be making the company money, not costing them a fortune." James
from finance piped up, his ridiculous put-on posh accent grating on her nerves like it always did.
Why he felt the need to adopt that around the new CEO was beyond her. By the looks of Logan Bryce,
he hadn't exactly spent any time in the posher circles. Hannah had done her homework on the new
boss. While he kept his private life under very close wraps, it was common knowledge that Logan was
a self-made man. Brought up in the East End of London, he'd worked his way up the corporate ladder.
An innate knack for investment had made him rich quickly, and nowadays he made his business taking
over companies, making them better and selling them for profit. As luck would have it, Premiere Events
had slid onto his radar, and they all had to fight to keep their jobs.
He’d said he wanted extraordinary proposals, and she thought she’d delivered. So, she was willing him
to look up and at least acknowledge her existence. However, his head remained bowed over her
written reports the entire time she’d been speaking. His rapt attention could’ve been a good sign had
she not recognized her personnel file. No doubt he was plotting how best to sack her, and she’d just
given him the perfect ammunition to do so.
"Well, let's not be too hasty in that assessment, James." Monique, who’d delivered a flawless proposal
for the wedding of a minor royal prior to Hannah, smiled her saccharine sweet smile and leaned
forward to give everyone around the conference table a good eyeful of her boosted cleavage.
Predictably Logan's gaze shifted to the wanton display of the other woman's wares and stayed there.
Monique and Hannah had been friends of sorts before this takeover and the every-person-for-
themselves-scramble to keep their jobs, which Logan Bryce had forced on them all. For that reason
alone, Hannah ought to dislike him, but the opposite was true.
She was far too aware of him as a man. Everything about him intrigued her. He stood at well over six
feet, with a shock of messy black hair which was too long for the usual executive type. Black eyes,
which seemed to have the ability to look right into your psyche. Add muscles, which strained against
the fine cloths of his tailor-made suits, and Logan Bryce commanded attention wherever he went. He
bought and sold companies like other people changed their clothes, and everyone had been in a flutter
of apprehension when he’d purchased Premiere Events. No one more so than Hannah, who’d been
here ever since she’d left school, had worked herself up the ladder, and was damn proud of her
achievements. If they meant there had been little room for romantic encounters, then so what? They
didn’t make little battery-operated friends for nothing, after all, and Hannah was on very intimate terms
with hers. Who needed a man? Then Logan happened… Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.
Every time she looked at him, her thoughts went down decidedly naughty avenues, which no doubt had
a lot to do with her coming up with this auction plan in the first place. Still, if he sacked her, she would
at least sleep better at night and not be plagued by erotic dreams of his large hands all over her body.
“An auction would be fun, especially if the staff joined in. I dare say we would garner a lot of attention if
we put you on the auction block, Mr. Bryce.” Monique tittered in laughter like some darn schoolgirl with
a crush, and Hannah rolled her eyes.
Really, could she be any more obvious in her attempts to get into his good graces and his pants?
Those large hands of his tightened on the papers he held, and Hannah couldn’t tear her gaze away
from the way his knuckles whitened.
“I’m not for sale, Monique. Nor would I expect any of the staff up there unless they wanted to be.” His
deep, gravelly voice held an edge of steel and disapproval, which settled straight in Hannah’s lower
regions. Lordy, that voice. If it was possible to come from the sound of a man’s voice alone, then
Logan’s would definitely fit the bill. Sex on dangerous legs, that was her new boss. If the rumors were
to be believed he discarded women with the same speed he sold companies. The man was a player for
sure, another reason to leave her fantasies where they ought to be—locked away in her head.
Logan ran a hand through his hair. His shirt sleeve raised just enough to reveal the edge of an
intriguing tattoo under his cufflinks. Hannah idly wondered how many he was hiding under the veneer
of the business executive. She could just as easily picture him on the back of a motorcycle.
Jeez, there I go again with the inappropriate thoughts. Focus!
“Tell me, Ms. Watson, are you willing to auction yourself off for this charity?”
Logan focused his attention on her, and that internal pep talk she'd just given herself evaporated like
mist on a summer's morning. Okay, maybe it had been better not being under his focus because the
unwavering stare made her feel like his prey about to be devoured by the lion.
"I … that is…" Hannah gave up trying to talk past that huge lump in her throat and made a grab for her
glass of water instead to lubricate her rusty vocal cords. Logan's eyes crinkled up at the corners as
though he was amused by her, and that thought spurred her on. "Of course not. That would be
inappropriate, and I'm not for sale either." She pulled her shoulders back and straightened her spine for
good measure. Unfortunately, that action made the already stretched fabric of her sensible white
blouse tighten further and the button gave way. Naturally, his gaze immediately dropped to the girls,
and Hannah hastily flung her arm over her bust. Damn her naturally big boobs and the over generous
curves in all the wrong places Mother Nature had decided to bestow on her. Men only ever saw her
boobs first. Add to that her naturally blonde hair and fair complexion, and she'd always had to work
twice as hard to be taken seriously. Sure enough, the odious James sniggered at her ill-timed wardrobe
malfunction.
“Oh, I don’t know. I would bid on you for sure, little Hannah.”