Rosamunde reared back as though he’d hit her, and little Rhia started to cry again.
“What? I haven’t done anything wrong. You can’t do that. She wouldn’t settle, and you didn’t answer your phone. What else was I supposed to do? This isn’t fair.” Her voice rose to a shrill whine, which went straight through Logan’s skull. Visions of wrapping his hand around her throat, of closing off her air supply to make her shut up bombarded his brain, not helped by Jack piping up.
“Of course, he can’t do that, babe. You have rights. I know who you are, and I have friends at the papers. They’d just love to know the great Logan Bryce shagged up with some bimbo while his little girl needed him, so … argh … what the fuck?”
The imbecile’s nose gave a very satisfying crunch under Logan’s knuckles, and he welcomed the resulting pain that shot up his hand. Rosamunde paled and screeched, which made Rhia abandon her hold on his legs. She darted under the coffee table, hands over her ears, and Logan’s gut churned. Fuck it, now she looked frightened of him. As for Hannah, hands on hips she glared at him, and then grabbed hold of the box of tissues, walked over and handed them to a groaning Jack.
“Here, use those, and for the love of God, stop screeching, woman. You’re scaring the little girl.”
“I’m scaring her. He … he hit my boyfriend. How dare he? We’re gonna sue. I’m gonna fight this. They warned me at the agency. Said he had a temper, but fuck this. You don’t get to sack me. I quit.”
Logan shrugged and stared the woman down.
“Be my guest. Don’t expect me to pay you a penny, though. You were supposed to look after her, not use your time to have it off with the likes of him.”
He snarled the words, satisfied to see them have the required effect, because the sorry excuse for a nanny gasped and took several steps back dragging her whining boyfriend with her. It was laughable, really, the fuss the guy made. At worst his nose was broken, hardly that big a deal. Logan had broken his more times than he could count in his ill-begotten youth.
Adrenaline still soared through his veins, and he wanted nothing more than to get into a proper fight with the asshole. Not that he would. All mouth and no fucking trousers, clearly, because this Jack almost ran down the corridor. Logan cursed at the curious bell boy who appeared from the lifts, no doubt wondering what all the commotion was about, and slammed the door shut.
Rhia jumped, hit her head on the coffee table and promptly burst into renewed tears, while Hannah swore under her breath. The look she threw at him made him take a step back. If he’
d thought he’d seen her angry before, he hadn’t seen anything yet. Little Hannah positively vibrated with fury, as she got right into his personal space and hissed at him.
“Jesus, Logan, I have no idea what the hell is going on, and I’m sure I don’t want to know, but control your temper. The poor girl is terrified. Look at her.”
Seeing Rhia cower in fear should have been an instant bucket of water over his emotions, yet the opposite was true. It made him want to go after his unwelcome visitors and do some real damage. This was all their fault, damn it. Hannah’s hand on his chest stalled his forward movement. Fuck, he’d had his hand on the door handle. What the hell was wrong with him?
Get a grip.
“What’s her name?” Hannah’s whispered question got through the rage, which still had him in its firm grip, and he shook his head to clear it.
“Rhia.”
“Okay, stay away from her and get yourself under control. I’ve got this.”
He wanted to protest, this was nothing to do with Hannah after all, but seeing her crouch down so that she was eye-level with Rhia, and the tender smile she offered the terrified munchkin rooted him to the spot.
Hannah reached out to touch the ear of the bedraggled looking floppy rabbit Rhia carried around everywhere.
“Hey, there, my name is Hannah. Who are you?”
Rhia stopped crying, clutched her rabbit a little tighter to herself, and watched Hannah with red-rimmed huge eyes.
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