Playing With Fyre

by Mina Carter

  * * * *

  The next morning dawned bright and early, Rae slithering from the bed long before Logan woke to shower, and headed downstairs to make breakfast. She worked most Saturdays so she treated herself to time off during the week, depending on what appointments she had on what days. Today she had the entire morning free; her first appointment of the day was Mrs. Collins at two o'clock.

  "Heya sleepyhead.” She smiled as Logan appeared in the doorway. Bare chested, with his hair mussed from sleep, he looked adorable. Just looking at him set her pulse racing. Perhaps it was the way he moved, a loose-limbed walk as he headed for the coffee machine with a grunt, hand scrubbing at his short hair.

  He poured a mug of the rich, dark liquid, his dark eyes closing in bliss as he raised it to his lips and took a deep breath of the aromatic steam. Rae busied herself at the stove, bizarrely pleased she'd gone to the trouble of digging the thing out and cleaning it up so he could have real coffee this morning. She made do with instant but she'd wanted to do something, well, special. From the look on his face, somewhere between relief and bliss, she knew she'd got it bang on.

  "How do you like your eggs?” She nodded towards the chair to indicate he should sit down. Deftly she moved pans around the stove, scooping tomatoes and bacon onto a plate for him and adding toast.

  "Err, well done, flipped on both sides please.” Logan moved over to the chair, collapsing into it to hunch over the table, his hands wrapped protectively around his mug.

  "Coming right up."

  Within a minute she pushed the plate onto the table next to him. She might not be a gourmet cook but Rae knew all about hearty, home cooked meals. She didn't do them often—her hips would definitely not have thanked her for that—but when she did cook breakfast, she liked to do it right. Lean, crispy bacon, griddled tomatoes ... The whole nine yards. All topped off by thick toast with lashings of butter.

  "I hope it's all right.” She felt a twinge of guilt as she slid into the seat opposite Logan. She'd have to do another hour on the treadmill at the gym to work this all off. Her teeth sank into the toast with relish. Oh, but it was worth it.

  "It looks fantastic.” He assured her and silence fell as they ate. Before long both their plates were clear and Logan leaned back in his seat with a contented sigh.

  "If that's the way you cook, will you marry me?” he asked, a teasing twinkle in his eye.

  "We ... we're already married. Technically.” Rae paused a little on the lie, her cheeks flaring scarlet and avoiding his gaze as she cleared up the plates to carry them over to the sink. “So no, I can't marry you. You can't marry someone twice."

  * * * *

  You can't marry someone twice. The words revolved around in Logan's head as they walked along the narrow footpath down to the beach. He'd managed to persuade Rae out of her planned cleaning routine to accompany him on a walk. Just the sort of thing a guy desperately trying to mend relations with his estranged wife would do.

  He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as they walked in companionable silence. He had to admit, even now, dressed for the cold in a thick waxed jacket and boots, with her glorious hair covered by a cap, she still stirred his blood. That was a surprise; he'd never considered the country bumpkin look to be sexy.

  But it was less the clothes and more the woman in them. Usually he went for the leggy model types. For no other reason than they littered his preferred social scene and they were easy to pick up and discard. He avoided women like Rae—women who didn't play the game, women who wanted the whole romantic fairytale of the two point four kids and cutesy little house—as though they had the plague. He shivered and jammed his hands further into the pockets of his borrowed jacket. It was miles too big for him—she'd said it was her father's—and every time he moved cold air tried to worm its way up under his shirt and thick sweater.

  Actually you could marry someone twice, provided you were already married to them—a renewal of vows. But Logan hadn't said anything, the way Rae had turned her back telling him that subject was well and truly closed.

  His lips quirked a little as she led the way down the ever-narrowing path, an arrangement which should have allowed him to ogle her pert little ass at his leisure. If not for the long foul weather jacket she had on. Now that was why he liked the models ... Skimpy little dresses showing nearly all they had.

  But, somehow, even though the jacket was as unsexy as hell and was blocking his view, not being able to see her figure swaddled under the shapeless mass was even more alluring. His imagination worked overtime, drawing on his memories of last night, as he imagined what she looked like under there.

  Last night, now that had been something else. Logan considered himself a connoisseur of women. He loved women, loved the way they looked and felt. The little things they did, the perfume they wore. But always, always he was the one in control, a player on the top of his game.

  Not last night.

  As untutored as she was, Rae had wrested his honed control from him and reduced him to a man desperate to claim the woman in his arms.

  "I don't know why you wanted to come down here, it's not sunbathing weather.” Rae grumbled as she unlatched the gate that led to the beach and held it open for him to come past her. “Hurry up, this thing's heavy and it's got a hell of a kick on it when you let go."

  He frowned, hurrying past her and turning to watch as she scooted through, holding the gate at arm's length to let go. Sure enough, the pressure on the spring hinge snatched the wrought iron gate out of her hand, the metal smacking against the post with a clang.

  "Isn't that dangerous? You could have health and safety down on you like a tonne of bricks for that."

  "Actually, they'd be down on you,” she pointed out, burying her hands in her pockets as quick as she could. “This scrubland and path are part of the Manor property, and you, well your company at least, own it. So, your gate, your problem."

  Logan laughed. “Right, serves me right for being picky. I'll ring in and get someone onto it. I wouldn't want a kid taking their fingers off or something."

  Rae wrinkled her nose, feeling guilty for needling him. This situation was getting to her, really getting to her. She shouldn't have let last night happen—no way, no how—and the guilt was eating her up inside. “Oh, it's okay. The local children know to be careful."

  "Hmm, the locals might but I assume you get tourists in the summer? There might be an accident. Better safe than sorry. Anyway, enough depressing stuff. We're supposed to be relaxing...” With that he scooped her up, Rae squeaking in surprise at the sudden movement.

  "Logan! What are you doing?” She grabbed his shoulders tightly as he spun her around and around, although she knew there was no way he'd drop her. In his arms she felt safe and secure.

  "Having fun!” He dropped a quick kiss on her lips as he put her down. “Come on, last one to the water washes up later!"

  Rae laughed and shook her head as he took off along the sand like a big kid. She followed at a more leisurely pace, wondering how long it had been since he relaxed, really relaxed, like this. Their walk took them the length of the beach, Logan becoming quite the beachcomber, investigating each washed up clump of seaweed tangled debris with an enthusiasm that reminded Rae of her father.

  Logan, for his part, was surprising even himself. Much as he'd grumbled mentally about being stuck here in the back of beyond for the next few days, he was finding the place did have its charms. Well, other than Rae.

  He squatted by a clump of brackish seaweed, sorting through it with a short stick he'd picked up earlier for anything interesting. It was surprising what could be found washed up, he mused, shifting a clump of seaweed. Then he saw it.

  Buried under the wet mass was a perfectly heart-shaped shell.

  He reached out and plucked it from the wet sand, using his fingertips to brush off the grains that clung to it. He wasn't a shell expert but even he could tell it was unusual, the shape not caused by damage but seemed to have formed that way. Ther
e was even a tiny hole in the vee at the top of the heart, perfect for a chain.

  He smiled to himself, standing and looking around for Rae. She seemed to be buying his act so far, all bar the sticky moment last night when he'd thought she'd been about to come clean. He couldn't let her do that, not yet. This game wasn't finished yet. Not now that he'd had a taste of her. It would take a lot more nights like last night before he had her out of his system.

  She was a little way ahead of him, her eyes on the skyline out to sea. He trotted over, slid his arms around her waist from behind. “I have something for you.” He planted a kiss on the side of her neck. God, she smelled so good.

  "Oh? It had better not be slimy seaweed mister!” she warned and arched her neck in unconscious invitation. Logan chuckled, dropping another kiss on the soft skin and reached around her to reveal his find.

  "Nope, not seaweed. It's pretty, just like you."

  Her intake of breath was answer enough as she reached out with delicate fingers to pick the shell out of his palm. “That's beautiful. I've never seen one shaped like a heart before."

  "That's because it was waiting for me to come along and find it for you,” Logan whispered, playing the game, wrapping her up in the moment and using emotion against her.

  Trouble was, he felt the pull too, the temptation to believe in this and fall under his own spell. Perhaps it could work. No matter how they'd gotten together didn't they say true love conquered all?

  What the fuck? Since when did he start buying into the fairytale? Next he'd be believing in Santa Claus and bloody ‘happily ever afters.’ Clearing his throat, Logan forced his mind away from dangerous waters. “We can get a chain for it if you like. I should get back into the office. Get back into the swing of things and see if that kick-starts my memory."

  She stiffened slightly in his arms. “You're leaving already? The doctor said you couldn't drive until you had your check up next week."

  Was that relief or disappointment in her voice? Logan couldn't tell, but there was a slight hesitation. It should be relief with the dangerous game she was playing here. Relief to get rid of him so she wouldn't be anywhere near the fallout when he ‘regained’ his memory. But his ego wanted it to be disappointment he was going, his male pride clamouring for her to want him around. Not that it mattered; she wasn't getting rid of him that easily.

  "I can't, so I got a rental company to send a car down. They're dropping it off later so I was going to ask you if you'd drive me back up? I checked your appointments diary and I saw your appointment tomorrow had cancelled...” he trailed off, as though waiting for her answer. But he didn't give her time to speak, wrapping his arms tighter around her and snuggling his face into her neck to kiss her again.

  "I'd really like you to Rae, I don't want to be away from you. In case I wake up again and can't remember anything at all."

  * * * *

  This was nuts. This was not only nuts, it was dangerous. She needed her head checked for agreeing, Rae berated herself silently as she sat behind the steering wheel in the plush car Logan had rented, heading towards the capital.

  London. She must be mad! What if they ran into his real wife? Rae wasn't an idiot, she knew time was running out on her little charade. Before long the house of cards she'd built was going to come crashing down, burying her under it.

  What on earth had she been thinking? This was such a stupid idea to begin with. She kept her eyes firmly on the road ahead of her, trying her best to ignore the tall, lean form lounging in the passenger seat. She was trapped now, trapped by a web of her own lies and for the life of her, she didn't know how to get out of the mess she'd gotten herself into.

  There was something about the monotony of a motorway journey that allowed her to think, really think, about things. Rae nibbled her lip, wondering what on earth to do. What if they got there and his wife was waiting for him? His real, loving wife. She winced as her teeth broke the skin a little and stopped nibbling her lip, laving the small cut with her tongue.

  'Loving’ was probably pushing it a little. Whoever she was, she hadn't bothered to ring Logan or try and contact him in anyway, even though he'd rung into the office to inform them of the accident. But if he'd said he was with his wife, they wouldn't ring her, would they?

  Rae shook her head, her head pounding with the onset of a headache as the thoughts whirled around in her head. One thing was for certain, she couldn't just admit her lies. Logan would be devastated...

  * * * *

  She was getting quieter, tension radiating from her slender figure the nearer they got to their destination. Logan had been pretending to nap in the passenger seat since they'd left, his head resting back against the headrest and his eyes closed. Well, almost closed. Every so often he'd crack his eyelids apart a little and take a look to see how Rae was doing.

  She was a very competent driver, he had to give her that. Most women he knew drove small cars and would have a fit at driving something this big and powerful. But Rae hadn't murmured or made a complaint, sliding behind the steering wheel and starting to familiarise herself with the controls without a word. He liked that about her, the no nonsense attitude. It reminded him of Zette, his friend JJ's wife. A woman Logan had had a passing fancy for until JJ had sorted his act out and told the woman he loved her.

  Since meeting Rae, Logan hadn't thought about Zette, or any of the women he'd been dating, which surprised him. It was rare for one woman to hold his attention so completely. And it was more than the sex. Logan had a high sex drive and although he treated all his mistresses with the utmost respect, he had to admit that he struggled to remember some of them after a while. All much the same as they paraded through his bed. But Rae was different. He'd remember her for sure. But was it because of the game she was playing, or something else? He shook his head, not really wanting to think too much on that one. He didn't do deep and meaningful.

  Clearing his throat he sat up as though he'd woken up, and looked around. “Sorry about that, I must have dropped off. Always happens to me in a car no matter how I try and fight it."

  Rae smiled, sliding him a sideways glance. “It's okay, I'm used to it. My dad used to do the same thing. I was just going to leave you to sleep until we got there. Well, unless we'd been stopped or something. I am insured for this thing aren't I?” A worried note crept into her voice. She hadn't checked before they'd set off and it had been playing on her mind since. Especially with the high numbers of police patrol cars which had been on the road.

  "Oh yeah, I meant to tell you ... The office needs a copy of your license to add you to the company insurance. The insurance company put you on without it, but we do need to prove you are who you say you are at some point."

  Rae's stomach lurched. There was just one problem with that. She wasn't who she said she was. “Err, I changed to my maiden name a while back, will that cause a problem?” she asked lightly. Too lightly, damn it. Even she could hear the slight crack in her voice as she answered.

  "You did? It shouldn't but I'd better let them know in the morning. What name are you using...” he trailed off, then admitted. “I'm afraid I don't remember your maiden name honey."

  "It's Borne."

  "Borne, Borne. Yeah, that does seem familiar. Kind of ... Makes me think of a man though. Oh fuck it.” He slammed his head back against the seat. “I'll be bloody glad when I can remember things properly, this is so damn frustrating!"

  "Don't push it, it'll come back in its own time.” Rae reached out to pat his arm. In fact, don't push it at all, she wanted to say.

  She had to tell him. If he was remembering his first impression of Ray Borne as a man then his memory wasn't far from returning, and when that happened she was sunk. She was under no impressions about what would happen when Logan realised the truth. Either way she looked at it, she was going to lose her house. But maybe if she said something now, with him being romantically inclined, he might go easy on her.

  She gathered her courage and opened her mouth. “Lo
ga—"

  "Hey, I didn't tell you, did I? I had a little chat with Estelle at the office. She's my PA, I have a PA, can you believe that?” Logan said suddenly, cutting her off. He was beginning to be able to read her, the little tells she had when she was uncomfortable. Like now. He had the feeling she was about to come clean again and he couldn't allow that. He was having far too much fun with this game. It was the most fun he'd had with a member of the opposite sex for years. Well, that didn't involve getting naked anyway.

  She shook her head, lapsing into silence again to gnaw at her lip. He'd have to kiss that better later...

  "Oh, it's a good one. She's quite a nice girl ... Young I think, eager. Anyway, she was telling me about one of our material suppliers. The guy was pulling a fast one with the plumbing supplies we ordered. We'd paid for a certain line of goods but he'd substituted them with a similar, cheaper alternative. It wasn't until a customer asked why the design was different that the switch was picked up.” He sighed as he shook his head.

  "One thing I cannot abide is liars, people who set out deliberately to deceive. Should be strung up as far as I'm concerned..."

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  Chapter 7

  It was worse than she'd thought. Rae stood in front of the huge wardrobes in ‘their’ bedroom and looked in dismay at the contents. Not only did Logan have a wife, but the woman was at least a size smaller than Rae and a tart to boot.

  She flicked through the rails, a fluffy white robe swaddling her from neck to mid calf, trying to find something to wear. Since the conversation in the car with Logan she'd been silent, hoping for some sort of divine intervention or the answer to her current predicament to pop into her head. No luck so far, and now she had to contend with this.

  "A leopard skin mini dress?” she murmured in disbelief as she pulled a dress from the rail. Yeah, animal print had been all the rage this season, but in tasteful little accents. Not all over bloody animal fur. Wrinkling her nose she put it back, flicking through to try and find something that she could squeeze into. Preferably something that didn't make her look like a hooker out to make a quick buck.