He shook his head. “Cynical is sad.”
He spoke as if he’d read behind the words to her philosophy on life, love, and dating. “It’s honest. The only way I know how to be.”
Dark eyes met hers. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he murmured.
He spoke sexy words laced with innuendo, Catherine reminded herself. Nothing more. She tipped her head back to meet his gaze. His nearly black hair had been slicked off his forehead in the latest style. Money and class. He possessed them both.
Behind him milled beautifully dressed women, who were immaculately and properly groomed for the world he inhabited. She wondered why this man had chosen to hang out at the bar with her. He wouldn’t be interested in a woman way out of his social class with a shady family history.
She didn’t know what he wanted, but she suspected he found her an interesting diversion. The thought tapped into her deepest fear—that not only was she like her mother, but she’d end up like her as well. Her mother had overdressed, overdone, and had always fallen short. She’d always been a woman with two daughters and too many responsibilities. A woman alone.
Feeling out of place here didn’t help her frame of mind and it merely heightened a fear Catherine normally suppressed. Unlike the wealthy Montgomerys, the Luck family had barely made ends meet and had lived on shop specials. And that was when things were good.
Although she lived a world apart from her roots, Catherine wasn’t foolish enough to think a woman who once wore hand-me-downs and had lived in the poorer sections of Boston had anything in common with this elegant and sexy man.
“Well, if you won’t unburden yourself, we can go back to you doing your job. Another drink?” he asked. “Mine’s gone flat.” His deep voice vibrated too close to her ear. An unexpected tremor of excitement shimmied throughout her body.
“So has your routine,” she said and grinned.
“Listen to the woman, sonny boy,” Emma Montgomery said in her cultured voice.
“Go away. You’re ruining my attempt at convincing the lady to give me a chance.”
“Sounded to me like you were failing miserably.”
Catherine laughed aloud.
“Eavesdroppers don’t get the whole story. She was on the verge of agreeing to go for a drink when the party ended.”
“I was?”
He stretched his arm over the back of the chair.
“You were.” His fingertips brushed her shoulder and she trembled. One drink. She met his heavy gaze and wondered, why not?
“I always knew my grandson had good taste.”
She stilled, her gaze darting between the two. It was one thing to have a drink with a good-looking guy, another to form illusions about a man who belonged to a family as wealthy as his. They would never accept her. Not on a bet. Not even if Emma Montgomery demanded it… and Catherine couldn’t help doubting whether Emma would be as gracious toward Catherine regarding her grandson as she had been regarding business. She now understood Judge Montgomery’s stern warning and obvious disdain. He didn’t want her anywhere near his son.
Emma patted her hand. “Lovely party, Catherine. You exceeded my expectations.”
A little while ago, Catherine would have agreed. After the last ten minutes, she had to wonder. And if there was anything Catherine hated, it was self-doubt and pity. She had to get away from these people before she lost the one thing she treasured: her faith in herself. Hard-won faith.
She swallowed over the lump in her throat and glanced at her watch. Almost over. “I have to get back to work.”
“You mean you don’t want my company after all?” His eyes clouded. A wounded little boy look graced his chiseled features. If she wasn’t careful, she’d believe she’d hurt his feelings. But the most she’d possibly offended was his pride. Protecting her heart was worth the sacrifice.
She watched Emma Montgomery’s retreating, regal form. His grandmother. Catherine shook her head, disappointed. She turned back to the privileged son. “I’m not sure what you’re after, but I can’t provide it.”
“Cut me some slack. Company’s all I’m looking for. Your company.”
She narrowed her eyes and she tried to gauge his sincerity. His gaze, once steady on her face, had slipped to her thigh. She glanced down. The hem of her miniskirt had bent up, exposing an expanse of skin hidden beneath the sheer black stockings. It wasn’t much, but she’d revealed more than she’d wanted Prince Charming to see.
Company, her ass. She looked like an easy mark. Regret surged through her—it wasn’t strong enough to douse the flame of desire he’d ignited, but she wasn’t about to get burned. Or let him see he’d flustered her.
She left the skirt hem alone. “Sorry, I have other plans.”
He shrugged and raised his hands in a gesture of defeat. “Okay. But you can’t deny me another drink.”
Because she was being paid to do the honors. She didn’t appreciate the reminder. She shrugged. “I can’t discriminate. It’s my job.”
“You wound me.”
“You’ll live.” She sounded too breathless for her own liking. Yet he was right. She couldn’t turn him away. Worse, she didn’t want to.
But the sooner she gave him his drink, the sooner he’d be on his way. He wouldn’t hang around her the rest of the afternoon being shot down. No matter how much she wished otherwise. “Okay, hotshot, tell me what I can get you.”
* * *
Logan doubted she wanted to hear his real desire. Especially since it involved them both in a horizontal position with their naked bodies crushed together in a sweaty tangle beneath the sheets. Or in the pool cabana behind the bar.
“Hurry up. I need to refill the serving trays with champagne,” she whispered.
Her warm breath tickled his ear. Her scent, an intoxicating Oriental blend of spices, heated the rest of his senses. The mix of perfumes emanating from the guests had grown heavy hours ago, hanging on the damp, humid air. But Catherine’s stood out, sexy and unique, like the lady herself.
His gaze dropped to her thigh. When she’d bristled the first time, he’d promised himself he wouldn’t look again. But the hint of skin and the promise of what lay beneath was too much for a man to take.
She headed behind the bar to obvious safety. Tapping her fingers impatiently against the top, she said, “I’m waiting.”
“Patience,” he murmured. “I want to make sure I get what I want.” He had one shot at capturing her interest, at making her want to get to know him as badly as he wanted to know her.
“More likely you want an excuse to linger. What I don’t know is why.” Her green eyes shimmered with curiosity.
Which, Logan decided, was better than disgust or disinterest. He wanted to linger, all right. To sit here and drink in her blond beauty and sassy mouth. Logan eyed her warily, then reminded himself she may be female, but she wasn’t a mind reader.
She might sense that he wanted more than her company—and she was right. But as much as he desired her, it was too soon for that to be an issue.
He’d have to take it slow. “What I want is something special,” he said thinking aloud. “More than a plain old beer.” He glanced down at her hands, noticing the blunt nails and clear polish for the first time. No fancy frills, colors, or artifice to this woman, he thought, and was more than pleased. He leaned over the edge of the bar. “I want you to create magic,” he said in a deep voice he barely recognized.
“You’re too old to believe in magic, buster.”
If the magic had left her life, he wanted to be the one to restore her faith. Bizarre how quickly she’d gotten to him, but after years of bland women and uninteresting relationships, Logan recognized a gem when he saw one.
“I’m old enough to know what I want, but not too old for you.”
“Want to bet?”
“I’m a gambling man.” He reached out and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. The tiny silver pendants hanging from her earlobe were intriguing. A delicate contrast to her sharp tongue and pr
ickly exterior. He lowered his hand, letting his fingers trail down her soft cheek.
She sucked in a startled breath, then coughed into her hand. “Don’t read too much into that. I swallowed wrong.”
He laughed. “You’re hell on a man’s ego.” Not that he believed her professed disinterest. The rapid flutter of a pulse beating in her neck and the flush of pink that stained her neck and cheeks betrayed her.
“All in a day’s work.” She smiled.
The flash of white teeth revealed two dimples on either side of her luscious lips. He vowed to taste that smile before the night was out.
“Speak or go away,” Catherine said. “What do you want, Mr. Montgomery?”
Time was running out. He glanced into her eyes before leaning close and whispering in her ear.
* * *
To make your dreams come true.
A thrill spun its way through her veins. At least fifty guests and party favors later and she still couldn’t suppress the tremor of excitement Logan’s words brought. Thanks to his husky tone, she knew what he desired, but the sincerity in his eyes made her want to believe he meant more than a cheap fling. Yet after those heart-stealing words, he’d stood, reminded her she had other guests waiting, and left, walking through the double doors and into the Montgomery mansion. He’d never looked back.
Her instincts had been right. He’d seen her as an interesting diversion. When she hadn’t proved easy, he couldn’t be bothered with the chase. She shrugged. No big deal. Hadn’t she already backed off herself?
So why was the disappointment so lingering?
She had no doubt Logan Montgomery was a man capable of fulfilling every fantasy she’d imagined—and some she probably hadn’t. Just the thought of him made her body hum with a sexual awareness she couldn’t mistake. Oh, he’d be good and she’d enjoy herself, but this was a man capable of getting inside her soul.
They weren’t meant to happen. Not without someone getting hurt. She being the someone who came to mind. One reckless night wasn’t worth a sacrifice in self-worth.
And he obviously wasn’t interested in pursuing more.
Over the next hour, the clouds darkened, and the guests began a slow trickling out of the estate. The budget on this party had enabled her to splurge on everything—including cleanup—and the crew was waiting to take over. The woman they’d hired as manager would supervise the next shift. By this evening, no remnants of the party would remain. Catherine had no reason to stay.
She edged past the few remaining guests and slipped into the wide entryway that led to the coatroom in the foyer. Yellow and white satin wrapped around the circular staircase in the corner and draped like border paper high on the walls. More than once, she cringed as her sneakered feet squeaked against the freshly waxed marble floor. She entered the closet that was larger than the room she’d shared with her sister growing up and hit the light switch on the wall.
Despite the ominous clouds, the day had started off with potential and the closet was empty of jackets and coats. Catherine’s rain slicker, brought more out of foresight than need, stood out in the empty room.
“Gran!”
Catherine turned at the sound of the deep, compelling voice in time to see Logan glance inside the walk-in closet. “Gran!” he called once more. “Is that you?”
“Not unless this party has aged me more than I thought,” Catherine said from the back recesses of the room.
He continued his path straight toward her. “Not a chance.” His gaze settled on her face, intense and focused. “Beauty and a smart mouth—you’re a lethal combination.”
She chose to detour around that remark. “I thought you already left.” She curled her hand around the soft plastic of her coat as if a solid grip would keep her safe from her rioting hormones and a sexy man.
“Keeping tabs on me?” he asked with a cocky grin.
“Guest awareness is part of my job.”
“Seems to me hiding behind your job is part of your job.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, although she already knew. Logan had obviously seen through her feigned disinterest.
He walked up beside her. His masculine scent tantalized and seduced. A swirling ribbon of desire unfurled in her belly and reached straight to her core.
“I meant every time I try to get close, you scurry behind the job description. Do I scare you, Cat?” His voice lowered a dangerous, seductive octave.
His gaze never wavered. Warm eyes she could drown in locked and held with hers. Did he scare her? More than he could imagine.
“Because that’s the last thing I want.”
“Then what do you want, Mr. Montgomery?”
He laughed deep in his throat. “Semantics won’t keep me at a distance. It’s Logan.”
“I…”
“Say it.”
She licked her dry lips. His gaze followed the movement. “Logan,” she murmured more to appease him than to become more intimate.
“Nice. Now, as I was saying… I want to erase that cynicism from those beautiful green eyes. I want to make your dreams come true.”
His words struck Catherine in her heart. Unfortunately, she still didn’t believe he saw her as more than an interesting diversion from the more cultured, more beautifully dressed women at the party. Women who would trip over themselves for a chance at landing one of the state’s most eligible bachelors.
“You want a good time,” she said.
He had the audacity to grin. “That, too.”
She wanted to give in to that handsome face and easy smile, which meant she had to get out of here, to her empty apartment where safety and reality would reassert themselves.
“Logan,” she said, not wanting to give him further reason to believe he affected her. “I think…”
A loud thud cut her off as the closet door slammed shut behind them. She jumped at the unexpected sound.
“Hold that thought.” He touched her lips with one finger. Heat traveled between her mouth and his skin.
A shiver took hold. Desire? Fear? Probably both. Though she liked to flirt, she’d never reacted to a man with such carnal, sensual awareness before.
Before she could think further, he strode to the door and jiggled the door handle. The muted sound of metal hitting the marble floor sounded from outside. He muttered a curse.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing as long as you aren’t claustrophobic.” He held the doorknob aloft in his hand. “Looks like the old lady has her own agenda. Not that I mind.”
An uncomfortable feeling arose in the pit of her stomach. “What are you saying?” She eyed the doorknob he held onto and shook her head.
He banged on the door with his fist. “Open up, Gran.”
“What’s your hurry?” Emma called out. “The company’s good, and the way things look, you’ve got plenty of time. I’ve got to find someone in this house who understands hardware. I think I did serious damage.” The click of heels on the floor sounded as she walked away.
“She didn’t,” Catherine said, glaring at the door through narrowed eyes. She wasn’t claustrophobic, but she disliked the feeling of being trapped. Especially with this man.
“She did.” Logan shrugged. “Sorry. She tends to get carried away.”
“She?”
“You wouldn’t be suggesting I set you up?” Disbelief and humor lit his gaze. “I’m interested, not desperate. I can get my woman without Gran’s help.”
“Your woman?” She swallowed a laugh. “That has a Neanderthal sound to it.”
He shrugged. “I kind of liked it.”
“You would. So, how about breaking down the door, Tarzan?”
“If I give it a shot, will you have that drink with me?”
“You wouldn’t stoop to using your grandmother but bribery is okay?”
“Is that a yes?”
She believed he had nothing to do with their current predicament. The eccentric older woman would definitely pull a stunt li
ke this. The only question was why. Emma certainly couldn’t think Catherine was an acceptable choice for her grandson nor could she believe Logan incapable of getting his own dates.
Speaking of dates, she had a decision to make. The closet, which had seemed so large when she’d first entered, was shrinking by the minute. She couldn’t breathe without inhaling the scent of spice and man, an erotic combination that stole her breath and threatened to take her sanity next. One drink in a public place was much safer than hanging out alone with him now.
She glanced at his handsome face and forced a casual shrug. “One drink,” she agreed.
She hoped she didn’t live to regret those two little words.
Chapter Three
Relief at her acceptance warred with the steady beat of desire pounding inside him. “Should I be flattered that you accepted?” Logan asked. “Or insulted you want out of here so badly?”
“Neither. I accepted because I’m thirsty. Now, give it your best shot.”
He wouldn’t have an inflated ego as long as Catherine was around. Logan was honest enough to admit he wanted her by his side for awhile. Long enough to get to know the cautious woman with the sassy mouth.
He needed time, but time freely given, not under duress. He eyed the door and slugged it as hard as he could with his shoulder. His bad shoulder. Hell, after years of college baseball, both shoulders were bad, and this one rebelled against his attempted escape. It rolled in the socket and he groaned in pain.
Catherine was by his side in an instant. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault,” he muttered through gritted teeth. He counted to ten and waited for the pain to subside. Since it often popped out in his sleep, Logan was used to the routine. Slowly, the shoulder numbed as the pain eased.
Soft hands reached for his collar. Logan let her slip the jacket off his shoulders. If she wanted to play nurse, he’d let her. He wasn’t proud that he was taking advantage of her concern, but he doubted he’d have a better chance to catch her with her guard down.
She lowered herself to the floor, her back propped against the wall. “Sit.”
Logan lowered himself beside her.
Simply Scandalous (Simply Series Book 2) Page 3
