by Lee Taylor
Gazing up at him, she acknowledged how tall he was, how muscular. But until this moment, she’d never realized how dangerous he was.
His voice was low, banked with intent. “Regarding your peremptorily ending our strategy session—the one that you invited me to attend—there’s something you need to know.” His voice dropped dangerously lower. “When you’re dealing with me, there’s one person and one person only who decides when ‘we’re done.’ ” He grasped her arm and jerked her up next to him. Shocked at her problematic response to his aggressive action, she tried to pull free, but he tightened his grip. “And, sweetheart, to be clear, that person is me.”
She swallowed hard, not knowing how she could possibly catch her breath, her chest was so tight.
Continuing to glare at her, he said softly, “Nod if you understand.” When she nodded, then tried to look away, he reached for her chin, forcing her to meet his intense gaze. Reaching up into the cloud of tangled curls cascading over her shoulders, he twisted a heavy lock in his hand and yanked her head back. Forcing her to look at him, he pulled her up against him.
Shocked at the fearsome tremor that shook her, she tried to pull away, but he just held her tighter, harder against him.
Logan felt her untoward response and didn’t try to contain his mounting arousal. Instead, he jerked her head farther back, baring her slender neck to his hungry mouth. Brushing his lips against the sensitive skin at the base of her throat, he murmured in a throaty growl, “One more thing, sweetheart, kicking me out isn’t an option. Just as I decide when and where I enter, I also decide when and if I leave.” Dragging her shaking body next to his, he held her tight up against him. Boldly shoving his burgeoning cock between her legs, he pressed against her trembling core for another long, heated moment.
Sucking in a deep breath, he slowly unwound his fierce grip. Stepping back, he said softly, “I’m leaving.” Shooting her a narrow-eyed smile, he added, “At least for tonight.”
At the door, he turned to face her, his lips quirking in a sexy grin. “By the way, you need to get some decent booze. I couldn’t find a fucking thing in your liquor cabinet worth pilfering.” He leaned over and pinched her flushed cheek. “Sweet dreams, princess.”
The door closed behind him.
****
The next morning, a large package arrived. Opening it, Gia saw a fancy wooden crate holding six bottles labeled “The Macallan Fine Oak Highland Single Malt Scotch Whisky 21 Years Old.” Quickly Googling it, she acknowledged she was looking at a gift that cost in the triple thousands. Though tempted to send it back to the arrogant man, instead she cracked open a bottle and enjoyed the most superb whiskey she’d ever tasted. She was glad she did. Reading the enclosed note, she shoved at the shockwaves ricocheting between her legs. “It’s not Irish, but I think you’ll like it. Oh, and leave some for me . . . for the next time I drop in.”
Chapter 13
It took Gia till nearly noon to force herself to go back to the campaign office. A ten-mile run up the mountain did little to calm her rioting emotions. It should have been impossible to walk, much less run at her unbelievable seven-minute mile pace given that she’d barely slept the night before. Even several double shots of Jameson couldn’t calm her enough to let her fall asleep. Finally, at four in the morning she’d drifted into a restless slumber. Unfortunately, sleeping only made her more vulnerable to the incredible images wracking her body and mind.
She woke with a start. Horrified, she realized that she’d crammed her pillow between her legs, apparently to quiet the electrically charged sensations fighting to emerge. Too exhausted to resist, she allowed herself to remember Logan pressing his engorged staff between her legs while baring her throat to his marauding lips. With a muffled cry, she allowed a fearsome orgasm to flood her amped-up body. It took her a good ten minutes to quiet the earthquake tremors strafing her to find enough strength to get out of bed. She wasn’t surprised that her legs were shaking so hard, stumbling to the bathroom was a challenge.
What gave her the ability to dress and prepare to go to work was the arrival of the crate of expensive whiskey. Shocked at his insufferable arrogance, she was determined to send it back with a note saying she never wanted to see or speak to him again. The double shot of the exquisite libation she imbibed changed her mind. That and the note that raised the tantalizing prospect that he fully intended to “drop in” again.
****
“How’s it hangin’, boss woman?”
It didn’t take a divining rod to know that Ben’s casual quip masked his concern. While his grin was as big as ever, she didn’t miss the unease shadowing his dark eyes. Determined to address what had happened, she barked a harsh laugh. “Why do you ask, Ben? Just because I threw a major temper tantrum and attacked the one person who might actually fund this fucking campaign? To be more precise, the person who we’ll be lucky if he deigns to speak to us, much less support us.”
Ben shrugged. “C’mon, Gia. It wasn’t that bad.” He hesitated, then added with a wink, “I wouldn’t call it a major tantrum, more like an erupting volcano-sized tantrum.” At Gia’s agreeing snort, he added, “Besides, Gia, it’s clear that the guy thinks you’re impressive; he just wasn’t sure about the rest of us.”
She didn’t want to think about the various ways that Logan underscored what he thought about her, including that he felt free to invade her personal space as well as her body. Certain that her cheeks were as flushed as other parts of her body no doubt were at the memory of his assault, she forced herself to respond to her frowning partner. “You’re wrong, Ben. You have to know that Fowler was impressed with you and the others.” She groaned. “At least with you, the girls, and even crazy Syl.” She shook her head and addressed the issue both she and Ben knew they faced. “Unfortunately, he made it crystal clear that he doesn’t think Aiden is up to the challenges he’s certain to face in the election.”
Ben shrugged. “That’s not exactly news to us, Gia. We knew that we were going to have to double down if Aiden’s going to be able to survive the scrutiny he’s sure to face from the Underwood campaign. Not to mention what Fowler called the ‘voracious’ media. You know they are lying in wait to go after him given the Mike O’Brian coup. Everyone knows that you were the mastermind behind that takedown. They’re gonna want to test Aiden to see if he’s up to the examination he’s sure to get. To see if he can swim without the water wings you’ve strapped on him.” When Gia just pursed her lips and shrugged, Ben asked with a serious frown marring his smooth brow, “What do you think, Gia? You’re the political superstar. Ya think we can get him ready? Shoot an iron spike up his spine?”
“We’re going to have to, Ben. We don’t have time to change horses. We’re stuck with Aiden.” She hesitated, then confessed her major concern. “The problem is even if we can jack him up, if we can’t get matching funds, his fucking father isn’t going to put up his half mil.” She groaned. “Unfortunately, I was counting on Fowler for that money.” She shook her head and breathed out a hard sigh. “And even you have to admit that I shot that possibility in the ass last night.”
Ben shook his head. “I don’t agree, Gia. That’s not my read. Sure, Fowler was pissed. How could he not be when you essentially dismissed him? I gotta believe he’s not the kind of guy who allows anyone to dismiss him.”
Gia managed to choke back a chortle, thinking if only Ben knew how on-target he was with that astute assessment. Before she could defend her indefensible actions, Ben continued.
“Seriously, Gia, after you left, it was obvious he was annoyed, but he stuck around for a good twenty minutes and asked me a bunch of questions about Gus Underwood and how we thought we could take him on.”
Not wanting to burst his balloon, she concurred. “Look, Ben, he obviously liked you and respected your knowledge. And I admit, he knows that I’m a pro. Our challenge is to turn that respect into cold, hard cash.”
Ben held her with a questioning gaze. When she frowned, he asked, “Are
you open to some advice?”
She sniffed dismissively. “Heck, Ben, who is the most officious women you know, the bitchy babe who knows everything and is not open to suggestions, much less advice?” She shook her head and raised her hands in defeat. “Go ahead, dude. Lay it on me. Just so you know, at this moment I’m more than open to advice, particularly from you.”
“Okay, then here goes. I don’t think you should give up on Fowler. He was interested enough to come to the meeting. And as you said, except for Aiden, he seemed impressed with our team.”
Gia rolled her eyes. “Uh, that’s a pretty big ‘except,’ Ben, in that Aiden is the candidate.”
“I know he is. But look, you are the best campaign manager in the business. If anyone can tune up Aiden, you can. We have four weeks until the primary election. I think we need to schedule some debates with Gretchen Engel.” He stopped her before she could interrupt him. “I know, I know. Aiden isn’t exactly a debate kind of a guy. But neither is Gretchen. She’s annoyingly principled—and shrill besides. She’s the ultimate middle-aged, League of Women Voters, know-it-all policy wonk. Plus, she’s frankly dumpy-looking. Even if Aiden isn’t the most articulate guy, he is good-looking, and after you have schooled him, I gotta believe he can outshine Gretchen.”
Gia frowned and allowed herself to consider what Ben was saying. She shrugged and conceded. “You might be right, Ben. Maybe by getting him in the ring, we can build his confidence.” Beginning to see the wisdom of Ben’s suggestion, she allowed herself to shake off her cynicism. “Hmm, the more I think about it, I think that’s exactly what we should do. The more we put him out there, especially paired with someone as off-putting as Gretchen Engle, he’d have to piss his pants not to come off better than she does.” Smiling at him, she said, “Good suggestion, Ben. Thanks for breaking through my gloom. I really was beginning to think we were going to have to cash it in.”
Ben returned her smile. “At the risk of losing your newfound confidence in me, I’m going to give you some more unasked-for advice.” Ignoring her frown, he said flatly, “Like I said, I don’t think you should give up on Fowler. Yeah, I’m sure he was pissed as hell when you cut him down. But, boss lady, you’d have to be blind not to see that he’s intrigued by you.” Shaking his head when she started to disagree, he said, “C’mon, Gia, you know how men react to you. Especially men as arrogant as Fowler is. Hell, he’s used to winning every battleground he enters. If anything, your bad manners and public putdown will just make you more interesting to him.”
Stunned at Ben’s prescient read on Fowler, Gia was overwhelmed at his insights. Dear God, if Ben only knew the lengths that Logan would go to when dissed by a woman, especially one like her. Remembering him invading her house and frankly her, she was sure she blushed. With an effort, she shoved aside her horror at the way she’d responded to him. After all, it wasn’t as though she was the only one who’d been turned on by his intimately aggressive overtures. Allowing herself to remember his imposing arousal that he’d pressed against her more-than-responsive core, she quickly rose to her feet and headed for the coffee urn on the counter. Not wanting Ben to see her discombobulated state, she pretended that she needed a steamy-hot cup of java.
After she’d managed to get her hormonal striations somewhat under control, she faced Ben. “Okay, you may be right. But how the heck do I do that? You know as well as anyone that I’m not the apologizing type. Plus, I’m not sorry I was a brat. He intentionally provoked me. The last thing I will do is to smile sweetly and take it.”
“That’s not what I’m suggesting, Gia. I don’t think you could pull off the Scarlett O’Hara sweet young thing batting her eyes at him if you tried. But how about meeting him on his own turf?”
When Gia shot him an annoyed frown, he interjected before she could argue. “Look, boss lady, I saw the handwriting on the wall last night and took a chance. After you rode out of here on your high horse, I told him that the Conclave’s monthly meeting is tomorrow night at the Chicanery. I suggested that if he wanted to get a sense of the upcoming election, he should hang around with the pros. I told him that every political hack and potential donor wouldn’t miss that monthly tribal bloodbath. Heck, just seeing every guy there measuring his dick against the rest of them is worth the price of admission. And best of all, as in any circus you choose to enter, you will be in the center ring, the star of the show.”
When he saw that she was considering it, Ben upped the ante. “C’mon, Gia. Admit it. You want that guy’s money so bad you can taste it. And contrary to thinking that your temper tantrum was a turnoff to that impressive guy, I think it was exactly the opposite. No guy as arrogant as that one is going to let any woman, even one like you—heck, make that especially one like you—blow him off. I recommend that you put on your sleaziest ‘come and get it boys, if you think you’re tall enough to ride this ride’ outfit and go to the Conclave. I’ll bet you half of my scrawny monthly salary that Fowler will show up. He’ll be there, his powerful masculine mien apparent to everyone, men and women alike. But in minutes he’ll make it clear to all those other hound dogs sniffing the big prize that no one but him will be seeing you home. And that, my glorious boss woman, is a wager you can take to the bank.”
Chapter 14
Gia thought she’d prepared herself to see him. If she had encased herself in a shroud of radioactive lead, she couldn’t have been more protected than she’d assured herself she was. A long afternoon run and fierce kickboxing battle at the gym had shot her adrenaline sky-high. If ever she was battle-ready, it was tonight. And like the accomplished gladiator that she was, she was dressed for the occasion. In that the Conclave was an after-work affair and everyone came from their offices, daywear was de rigueur. That didn’t mean that Gia would look dowdy or in any way unremarkable. Given her body and lovely face, “unremarkable” wasn’t an option. Glancing around the room, she congratulated herself. Within minutes it was clear that her carefully considered, and definitely outrageous, outfit was more than capable of making her the evening’s star attraction.
Chatting with the three-deep crowd of men angling to get next to her, Gia played them off against each other like the practiced tease that she was. Giving as good as she got, she chatted it up with her friends and colleagues—all of them men. It was an arena in which she was more than comfortable. She should be. She’d held court among political hacks since she was eleven years old. She brought down a houseful of Big Bart’s admirers who were smitten with the brash pre-teen who grew into an astonishingly beautiful woman. Her confidence sky-high, she convinced herself that she was Kryptonite. Tonight, not even the inimitable Logan Fowler could crack through her impervious cloak of arrogant self-confidence. Or at least that was what she’d convinced herself would happen—until he entered the room.
She saw Elliott Lockhart first. He was a regular at the Conclave and definitely among the more sophisticated members of the cabal. Like a good many of the attendees, his political leanings weren’t restricted to one party or the other. His political weathervane was driven by the particular candidate and their usually middle-of-the-road positions. Who had the best chance to win was of primary importance. In addition to being good-looking and gregarious, Lockhart was wealthy, which made him a star in this money-hungry collective. But when he entered tonight, the buzz wasn’t around the well-known charmer. Instead, the electric energy that instantaneously spiked at their entrance was driven by his tall, Charlie Hunnam, Brad Pitt-lookalike companion.
In minutes, a coterie of well-wishers and wannabes—as many women as men—had surrounded the dashing duo. Which wasn’t surprising given that both Logan and Elliott oozed charm and high-end taste. Her young associates couldn’t have imagined the price tag of his understatedly elegant wardrobe at their office yesterday, but Gia knew that it would cost his quarterly salary to dress Ben as Logan was tonight. Elegant didn’t begin to describe his open-necked, black silk shirt, fitted trousers, and, this time, an unstructured Tom Ford leather ja
cket. The surprising addition of a pair of hand-tooled cowboy boots added to his drool-worthy image.
Sucking in small gasps of air, which were as much as her constricted lungs would allow, Gia managed to convince herself that she was impervious to his charisma. That was until she saw him break away from the crowd of fans surrounding him and head toward her. His hooded gaze and quirked lips, masking what she was sure was a sly smile, shot a bolt of electricity to the core of her being. It was so powerful she was amazed that she was still standing when he reached for her hand and murmured, “Good evening, Gia. I hoped I would see you here.” Not sure how she managed to respond in a reasonably normal tone given that her heart was beating so hard she didn’t know how she could keep it from breaking free of her chest, she said inanely, “Me too.”
Elliot had been surprised when Logan casually asked him if he knew anything about the political Conclave.
“Jesus, man, that is the place to be if you have a smidgen of interest in politics. Our state has become critically important to both national parties, which make our elections the blood sport they’ve become. For the poor assholes running for office, the Conclave is a must-attend event. Unfortunately for the also-rans, it’s an invitation-only event. But that brings me to my question. Was your interest in the inimitable Ms. Tremaine as innocent as you implied? Don’t tell me that little heartbreaker has convinced you to support that candidate of hers.”
When Logan merely shrugged, Elliott laughed. “Oh, oh. If that indifference is as practiced as it seems, could it be that the campaign manager we’ve all lusted over has caught your eye?”
