Crowning His Unlikely Princess

‘Left,’ Cassidy directed, wishing that getting to Times Square for a musical was the biggest worry on her to-do list right now. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d done anything light-hearted or fun. Who had the time for such frivolities?

Shrugging out of her jacket, she wrapped it around her parcel and hunted around for a cab. Of course the Avenue was gridlocked in the sudden downpour with not a yellow cab in sight.

Resigned to her fate, she stepped out into the deluge, knowing that if she didn’t move soon she wouldn’t make it home before dark. She only hoped that her boss appreciated her dedication when it came to bonus tim

e.

By the time she made it to his landmark building she was a sodden, out-of-breath mess.

The doorman did a double-take when he saw her and rushed to hold the door open as she dashed inside. ‘Evening, Miss Ryan.’

‘Evening, Michael.’ She paused to catch her breath, her heart racing a mile a minute. ‘Is the boss in?’

‘Yes, ma’am. He came in an hour ago.’

‘Great,’ she said glumly. No chance she could hide her mistake, then.

Since he hadn’t responded to her earlier text, she used her personal pass to access his penthouse apartment and waited for his private lift.

A sudden attack of nerves hit her as the lift ascended to the top floor. She’d been here on numerous occasions before to drop things off, but she’d never been here when he’d been at home. The thought of seeing him on his home turf made her feel a little jittery, but perhaps that was just a residual feeling from a day she couldn’t wait to see the back of.

Arriving in his state-of-the-art apartment with three-hundred-and-sixty-degree views over Manhattan and beyond, she stepped carefully from the elevator so she didn’t slip on the marble floor. It was a gorgeous space, the interior designer who had remodelled it having used light wood grain and endless yards of glass to create a home that was boundless and warmly inviting.

Conscious that she was soaking wet, she moved stiffly into the immaculate open-plan living area and called his name. When she didn’t get an answer she glanced outside the windows, momentarily captivated by the sunset over heaven-bound skyscrapers. She exhaled slowly, taking in the magnitude and peace of her surroundings. She could see the congested traffic in the distance, the mad dash of pedestrians trying to get to their next destination, and it almost felt surreal in the stillness of Logan’s apartment.

After a day that had not let up from morning till now it was like being cocooned in cotton wool, safe from the frantic beat of a city that never slept. A welcome reprieve.

And then suddenly that reprieve was shattered when she felt the air shift behind her. Knowing that it could only be her boss, she gripped her jacket-wrapped parcel tighter and turned, letting out a short gasp when she was confronted by the sight of him. Sweat-soaked in a singlet top that did little to disguise his wide shoulders and ripped torso and tiny gym shorts that hugged his strong thighs, he was a spectacular display of blatant male power and vitality. He had earbuds inserted and she could hear the pounding music from where she stood.

For a moment she couldn’t speak, her body frozen by the impact of over six feet of bronzed, honed muscle glistening with athletic prowess. Of course, she’d guessed that he was well built beneath his custom-made business suits but her imagination hadn’t even come close to the real thing.

Logan’s eyes did a slow perusal down her body and she was so out of sorts she felt her insides start to heat up, her heart pumping hard again as if she was still outside, rushing to get out of the rain.

She swallowed heavily, horrified to note that her body was reacting to the sight of him in a way that transcended the professional boss-employee relationship. It had been the same reaction she’d had on first meeting him behind his big desk in a tailored suit and a very bad mood. He hadn’t smiled at her then either, testing her mettle by reading her every reaction to his questions with thickly lashed deep blue eyes that were dangerously intelligent.

It was the same look he was giving her now, only this time she didn’t feel half as successful at hiding her emotions, something she generally considered one of her superpowers after a childhood fraught with upheaval.

A superpower she had employed within the confines of his office that very first day to hide how attractive she’d found him, concentrating instead on how fortunate she had been to even have the chance at such a prestigious job, and how desperately she had needed the money. It had also helped that there was the somewhat minor—but pivotal—point that a man who already had everything the world had to offer would not give a woman such as herself a second glance.

A bead of water rolled from her forehead down her nose and onto her top lip. Her tongue sneaked out to capture it and Logan’s blue eyes darkened, his nostrils flaring as his gaze lingered on her lips. Cassidy felt a surge of sexual awareness so deeply within her body it shook her to the core.

She was like a startled impala facing a hungry lion, with nowhere to run, and she suddenly felt less annoyed at the women who regularly called his office, trying to win a second chance with him, and more sorry for them. If he ever swept her up in those massive arms she wasn’t certain she’d want him to let her go either.

Fortunately the scowl that crossed his face was a timely reminder that the chance of him ever sweeping her up into anything was less than zero.

Squeezing her soggy jacket tighter against her chest, she knew that she had to do something to sever this strange connection between them before she embarrassed herself.

But before she had the chance, Logan reached into his pocket and killed the music on his phone before yanking the earbuds out of his ears. ‘What are you doing here, Cassidy? And why are you dripping all over my floor?’

They had started using their first names after about six months of working together when he had complained that he felt like she was always about to deliver bad news when she addressed him as Mr de Silva, but now her name sounded strangely intimate on his tongue.

‘I...’ She crushed the moment of madness she’d just experienced and lifted her chin. ‘I need to give you the prospectuses for your meeting tomorrow morning.’ She unwrapped the jacket in her arms and held out the package but he didn’t move to take it.

‘I already have the prospectuses for tomorrow.’

Cassidy grimaced and with her free hand brushed at the rivulets of water rolling down her neck. ‘Actually, you don’t. You have the wrong ones.’

‘Wrong...’ His eyes scanned her from head to toe again, a scowl darkening his blue eyes. ‘You’re drenched.’