Naughty, Naughty Prince Charming (Charming 1)

He was thinking about tonight as much as she was.

The moment ended when the elevator dinged and the doors opened. Lucy swallowed. After Greg’s comments, she wouldn’t have expected to react so intensely to Logan. But Greg’s taunts didn’t erase her desire. They made her hate that it existed. Made her feel regret. But that regret didn’t make the desire go away.

It made her worry, fret, and stress. But not enough to stop the dampness gathering in her panties just thinking about showing him that very piece of clothing.

* * * * *

Lunch was Chinese food. Lucy inwardly let out a breath of relief when they sat at a table instead of a booth. Had she had to sit beside Logan the entire meal, she didn’t know how she would have handled it.

When she went to shrug out of her coat, Logan helped her. She glanced at him, knowing he was using the act as an excuse to touch her, and reprimanding him with her eyes. She didn’t need this right now. It was hard enough to focus on business without the added distraction of his hidden agendas.

Logan's expression was knowing, but not apologetic.

Once they had ordered, Tyler smiled at Lucy and started making conversation. She didn’t feel up to idle chitchat. Of course, she didn’t have an option. After a good ten minutes of weather, sports, and current events, Tyler turned to Lucy. “So,” he said, “thanks for making me look good to my boss for hiring you.”

That drew a smile because Lucy sensed the sincerity in his words. “I appreciate the opportunity.”

“I’m just lucky to have snagged you. I could see your brilliance shine in the interview. Anyone, who takes care of their mother the way you have, has a fighting spirit. How is she by the way?”

Lucy stiffened slightly. She regretted talking to him about her mother’s cancer. Tyler had a real knack for getting people to open up. “She’s doing very well. It’s been a year of remission and no signs of trouble.” Why did she say all of that? She should have kept it short and sweet.

Tyler looked at Logan. “Her mother had cancer and Lucy put her career on hold to care for her.”

Lucy reached for her glass. Somehow, having Logan know about her personal life made their relationship all the more cloudy and emotional. She’d avoided all of his questions to date. Now, she was captive.

“Where’s your father?” Logan asked quietly.

Lucy took a swallow of tea and then sat her glass down. Her teeth ground together for a moment. He knew she didn’t want to answer yet he was taking advantage of the situation to get her to talk. Her eyes went to Logan, cold and loaded with a warning. “He died when I was five.”

Logan ignored the hostility in her gaze. “Is it just you and your mom or do you have other family? Siblings, maybe?”

“Just my mom,” Lucy said.

She made an attempt at a smile. It failed. She didn’t like people’s pity. She definitely didn’t want it from Logan. And she absolutely hated the way he enlisted this lunch to get into her family history. It was almost as hard to swallow as the lunch she had to put down. This thing with Logan had gone way too far. It couldn’t continue.

This lunch marked the end to her little adventure with the boss.

She was done.

* * * * *

It was Friday night. No one was at work.

Only her.

Alone.

When she could be with Logan.

Lucy sat at her desk working, but her eyes kept lifting to the clock. She was five minutes late to meet Logan. Then ten. The office was dark. Lucy looked down at her work, willing herself to focus.

At forty-five minutes past the hour, she dropped her pen. What in the hell was she thinking? She wanted to see Logan. Lucy shoved her chair back and grabbed her purse, not even bothering to reach for her coat. The exterior offices were enclosed in darkness but she didn’t slow. With a quick hand, Lucy flipped off her light and charged forward. And smacked into a hard form. Strong arms—arms she would know anywhere—circled her. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. “Logan…”

His mouth came down on hers, hot and heavy. Angry. She didn’t care. She’d take his kisses any way she could get them. Melting against him, kissing him fervently, she clung to him. Needing and wanting.

Slowly, his kiss changed, became almost tender. But anger still rolled under his surface. She could feel it threatening to roar to life at any moment. He backed her into her office, taking her purse from her and tossing it down as he kicked the door shut.

Her purse flew open and things scattered. It didn’t matter. She didn’t care. To hell with her purse.

When her butt hit the desk he lifted her up, spread her legs, and stepped between them. “Did it ever occur to you that I have something to lose here too?” His voice was low and hinted at more than anger.