Simply Scandalous

by Carly Phillips

  “Can I help?” she asked. “I know my way around the kitchen.”

  “Which makes you a typical woman?” he asked, falling back on their earlier banter.

  She clucked her tongue. “I’m anything but typical.” She sniffed, pretending to be offended.

  He laughed. “Believe me, I knew that or you wouldn’t be here right now. You’re special, Cat.”

  A blush rose to her cheeks. “Cut that out before you embarrass me.”

  “A woman who doesn’t go looking for compliments. Now that’s unusual.”

  She shrugged. “Sounds to me like you know the wrong women.”

  “But at least I’ve found the right one. Now, I know catering is your business, but I didn’t realize you had hands-on experience behind the scenes as well.”

  She pushed up the rolled sleeves only to have them fall down again. “You’d be surprised. I have years of restaurant experience behind me and I’m not talking just washing dishes.”

  “We have all night for you to fill me in. Why don’t you sit and let me handle things?”

  Catherine shrugged and headed for a chair by the kitchen table. “A man who can cook! Another blow to the stereotypical male.”

  “I hate to disillusion you.” He reached inside the refrigerator and came out with a covered casserole dish. “But I have no choice. This lasagna is the best Emma’s cook can prepare,” he said with a laugh.

  Catherine laid a hand over her heart. “You’re destroying my fantasies.”

  He shook his head, then walked over to where she sat. Bracing his hands on the arms of her chair, he leaned so close he could taste her—if he chose. Sensing she was not yet ready, he refrained. “I’m not going to destroy your fantasies, Cat. I’m going to make them come true.”

  Before she could blink, he rose and strode back to the lasagna on the counter. Distance gave him a chance to cool off before he acted against common sense and blew things for sure.

  “At least you have Emma. She makes sure you don’t starve,” Catherine said.

  “Embarrassing to admit, but yes. What do you know about the public defender’s office hours?” he asked as he took the foil wrap off the casserole dish.

  “Not much.”

  “Then let me fill you in.” Details of his own life might encourage her to reveal facts of her own and Logan wanted to know everything about her. “I’m on call three nights a week and one weekend a month for courtroom duty. When I’m not there or at the office, I’m bringing home files to work on. There’s not much free time for cooking and I’m enough of a man to admit I like to eat.” He shrugged. “I may turn my back on plenty of Montgomery family rituals, but I’d never turn away a free meal,” he said with a grin.

  “I’ll remember that.” An intriguing gleam lit her green eyes. She rested her chin on her hands. “It’s nice you have her to look out for you.”

  “You’re right.” He placed the casserole inside the microwave, his only concession to new appliances when he’d moved in.

  “So with hours like that, tell me why you’d choose the public defender’s office.”

  “As opposed to some high-powered law firm in Boston?” he asked, the edge in his voice unmistakable. “One that helps institutions not people? One the judge handpicked based on reputation?” His father would have pulled whatever strings possible to settle Logan into a position of power and prestige, regardless of what Logan wanted out of his life and career. As a result, Logan couldn’t hide the disgust he felt for the direction the judge wanted his son’s career to take.

  At his biting tone, she stiffened in her chair. “I meant as opposed to single practice, or in-house counsel. Or maybe setting up a stand on the street and giving advice out for a quarter. What is it with you? I hit a nerve, so you strike back?”

  “In a word, yes.” He cursed his inability to cover his frustration with his father and hated that he’d taken it out on her. “But it wasn’t right and I’m sorry.”

  Her expression softened. “You really are a man who can admit when he’s wrong. Very unique,” she murmured. “And I didn’t mean to tread on sensitive ground. Or to insult you. I’m just surprised at the road you’ve taken.”

  “Tell me something. What’s the real reason my career choice surprises you? Is it because you can’t picture me helping the downtrodden or because anyone with the name Montgomery should be a self-serving snob?” He joined her at the wooden table.

  Reaching his hand across the Formica top, he opened his fist palm upward in a silent signal for her to place her hand in his. “I’m not criticizing you, Cat, any more than I would judge you based on appearances.”

  “And you’d appreciate it if I did the same for you.” A whisper of a smile touched her lips. “I think you caught me revealing my bias against the upper class.”

  “Instead of judging me based on what you know about me.”

  She glanced at his hand extended in invitation. “But I hardly know you.”

  “Oh, I think you do.” He kept his palm faceup and never let his gaze stray from hers. “Trust me, Cat.”

  She hesitated. To Logan those seconds felt like an eternity, until finally she joined her hand with his.

  Soft and smooth, her skin felt like silk to his touch. Enjoying the feel of her, he brushed his thumb over the pulse point in her wrist. She merely stared, her eyes glittering like emeralds as she waited for his next move.

  “So tell me about yourself.”

  She blinked, obviously startled by his question. But Logan had his reasons. He didn’t plan on wasting one minute of the time he had her to himself. “Why don’t you start with your family?” he asked when she didn’t answer right away.

  She shrugged. “Not much to tell. Like you, I have a sister. We share the running of the business but right now she’s pregnant and on bed rest. She’s married to an arrogant cop.” Her grin was at odds with her choice of words. Obviously she didn’t dislike the man as much as she proclaimed.

  “Anyone else?”

  She shook her head. “My mom died years ago and Dad walked out when we were young. I don’t even remember him. And then I had an aunt and uncle but they…” Catherine paused and Logan sensed she was debating revealing her family history. “They died last year.”

  He didn’t blame her for keeping quiet. Emma’s revelations about her uncle probably wasn’t something Catherine considered first-date conversation. He wasn’t bothered. She’d have plenty of time to learn to trust and confide in him.

  “That’s a lot of loss,” he said.

  She shrugged. “It’s life.”

  He wondered how much of that cavalier attitude had been shaped by necessity, how much by being so alone. “Is your sister older or younger?”

  “Kayla’s younger by only ten months but she’s the more centered sister.”

  He narrowed his eyes. Logan didn’t like the hint of self-criticism in her words. “Something tells me you’re not giving yourself enough credit.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “I think I know myself better than you.”

  He glanced down at the hand he still held in his. He turned her hand palm upward and traced the fine lines in her skin. A subtle tremor shot through her and her body visibly shook in reaction.

  He smiled, pleased. “Maybe so. But I’d like to know you as well as you know yourself. And I just watched you cater an entire party under stressful conditions—successfully, I might add. So putting yourself second to your sister doesn’t cut it for me.”

  “There’s a difference between putting yourself second and knowing your strengths and weaknesses. The only way to be successful in life is to know yourself. Inside and out.”

  “You impress me, Ms. Luck.”

  She grinned. “Thank you, Mr. Montgomery.”

  “It’s Logan, remember?”

  Catherine remembered. Every minute inside that closet was etched in her memory. She licked her dry lips and his gaze followed the unconscious movement.

  “Now care to tell me w
hy a party that had the guests raving had you so uptight?”

  Her emotions warred inside her. Pleasure that Logan approved of her job performance fought with wariness of his motives for complimenting her. Alone in his house, seduction couldn’t be far from his mind. Heaven knows it wasn’t far from hers.

  He held her hand in a gentle yet strong and self-assured grip. That light touch alone sent her senses soaring. “I cater parties for a living. This one wasn’t any more stressful than m-most.” As the lie rolled off her tongue, she felt herself begin to stammer.

  As a master of the flippant comeback, Catherine found herself at a sudden loss. She’d never been so flustered before, which said much about her growing feelings for Logan. She didn’t like lying to him and yet she couldn’t bring herself to admit his father’s disapproval had tainted an otherwise successful day. Or that she feared he’d blacklist her company instead of recommending it.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  A grin caught hold despite her negative thoughts. “I didn’t think you would. But I do appreciate your faith in me—I mean, my abilities.”

  “Easy to have faith when it’s been earned.”

  The telephone rang then, saving her from having to answer. Logan shot her a regretful look before easing his hand from hers. She felt the glide of his rougher skin as it slid away and she most definitely felt the loss.

  He walked across the room, a confidence to his stride that would be hard to miss. Catherine sighed. He was a man with presence. A man with enough sex appeal to make a woman feel alive. Cherished.

  He picked up the phone on the third ring. “Hello.” He hesitated a beat. “Yes, Gran, I got Cat home fine.” He paused. “Whose home?” Logan glanced at her and winked. “Whose home do you think?” he asked. “Don’t worry, okay? She’s home safe and sound. We both are.”

  Catherine listened as Logan humored his grandmother, while protecting her own privacy. She appreciated his discretion and almost envied him the older woman’s strength and love. She’d never had someone that stable to rely on, unless she counted her sister. Catherine smiled. At least she could always count on Kayla.

  “No, I don’t want to talk to the judge.” Logan’s voice drew her back to the present. “Gran? I said no. Tell him…Hello, Dad.”

  Catherine stifled a groan. The last thing she needed was a reminder of their differences, not when they seemed so minimal when they were together. His father, the infamous Judge Montgomery, managed to make her feel insecure by his very presence in Logan’s life.

  “No. No breakfast tomorrow. I won’t be hungry.”

  Catherine had to laugh.

  “Running for mayor? I plan to be too worn out to run anywhere tomorrow. I have to go…No. I’m hanging up now. Bye.” Logan slammed the handset back onto the wall before his father could possibly respond.

  He met Catherine’s gaze with an amused one of his own. “Emma’s golden rule. If you tell someone you’re hanging up, they haven’t been hung up on,” he explained with a grin.

  “I suppose I should remember that.”

  “Might come in handy sometime,” he agreed.

  “Your grandmother is a piece of work.” Still Catherine couldn’t help but like the older woman. The more she learned about Logan’s childhood and his relationship with Emma, the more her respect for the woman grew. If Logan was a decent man, and Catherine sensed the answer was a resounding yes, then Emma deserved the credit.

  Logan nodded. “She likes to think so. Keeps her young and healthy in here.” He tapped his head. “And keeps me on my toes.”

  Catherine agreed with him there. “She locked us in the coat closet. I’d say you have your hands full staying one step ahead of her.”

  “Sometimes it’s not worth the effort. After all, she got the upper hand today and look where it got us.” His heavy-lidded gaze strayed to hers. His eyes held warmth and a signal she couldn’t possibly mistake.

  “And where would that be?”

  “Alone, together, if you want us to be.”

  So the next move was up to her. She shouldn’t be surprised. Logan had been a gentleman from the first moment they’d met. He wouldn’t stop just because he had her alone in his home. If anything, in the past couple of hours he’d become more sensitive to her feelings.

  He offered Catherine many things she’d never received before—respect, admiration and a sense of acceptance. That he desired her went without saying. That he’d let her control what, if anything, happened between them put him in a class by himself.

  She chuckled. He already was.

  “The choice is yours, Cat.” His husky voice was deep and warm, comforting like a friend and seductive like a lover’s caress. She shivered at the thought.

  Silence stretched between them until she couldn’t stand the strain. There was nothing holding Catherine back from being with Logan except…

  The loud beeps of the microwave announced that dinner was ready—and saved Catherine from herself, at least for now.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CATHERINE SAT ON THE COUCH browsing through a magazine. The backside of the den had many windows, offering a magnificent view of the ocean. The sound of the steady rain, along with that of the waves crashing onto shore and rolling back again, sent her senses reeling. She’d always loved the rain and the heavy rhythmic sounds.

  She closed her eyes and the sounds became even stronger, so did the pulsing within her. Her desire for Logan, evidenced by the insistent longing between her legs couldn’t be denied. She squeezed her legs tight and rolling waves of pleasure crested and ebbed, just like the water on the beach. Just like the pleasure she’d find by making love with Logan, his body inside hers, finding the perfect rhythm, rocking together until the crescendo became the ultimate peak of pleasure.

  She forced her eyes open and realized she was shaking with need. A glance back toward the kitchen told her she was still alone. Considering she could bring herself to the edge with daydreams of Logan, Catherine knew she was in trouble. Better to concentrate on dessert, she thought. The edible kind.

  Logan had promised to cook his favorite dessert, one that was handmade, not prepared by Emma’s chef. But he wouldn’t let her watch. By the time she’d pored over every back issue of Entertainment Weekly, Emma’s favorite magazine, that she could find, Catherine had cooled her body off to a respectable level. But she couldn’t stand to be alone with her erotic thoughts anymore.

  She tiptoed to the kitchen and peeked inside. The room itself was old, the appliances dated, but the dark wood cabinets had appeal and potential, and she was sure they’d be dynamite once they were refinished as Logan planned. He puttered around the kitchen, muttering aloud. She couldn’t catch a glimpse of what he was making and to walk inside would be to risk getting caught.

  She took one silent step backward, when an unexpected flash of lightning flickered from the windows behind her, followed by the loudest crash of thunder yet.

  Startled, Catherine shrieked and Logan whirled around.

  He raised an amused eyebrow. “Don’t tell me. You’re afraid of the storm and came seeking comfort.”

  She rolled her eyes, knowing she’d been had. “I give. You caught me red-handed.”

  “You’re a bad girl, Cat. Now turn around and wait in the den. I’ll be out in a second. Surely you can wait that long?” he asked with a charming grin.

  “I’ll manage somehow.” She headed back to the other room. “Me, banished from the kitchen. Who’d ever believe it,” she muttered.

  The telephone rang and Logan called out from the kitchen, “Can you grab that?”

  She picked up the phone beside the couch. “Logan Montgomery’s cabin on the ocean. Who may I say is calling?”

  Emma’s distinctive chuckle was her immediate response. “She’s home safe and sound,” Emma said in a baritone imitation of Logan. “Did he really think I’d buy that line? His father may fall for that dry wit, but no way can he get anything past me. Women are much smarter than men. You reme
mber that, dear.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Catherine laughed, surprisingly not the least bit embarrassed to be caught by Emma at Logan’s place. “I am home safe and sound. It’s just not my home.”

  “Minor point. At least you’re dry and out of the storm.”

  “I’m out of the closet, too, no thanks to you.”

  Emma made a tsking sound. “They don’t make those doorknobs like they used to. The sucker just came off in my hand. Imagine that.”

  “Who’s on the phone?” Logan walked into the den, a tray in his hands.

  “Your grandmother. We were just discussing the closet incident.”

  “Keep her on the phone. I have a few words to say on that subject, too,” he said.

  “Emma? Logan would like to speak to…”

  “My weekly card game awaits. I have to run.”

  “But…”

  “I’m hanging up now,” Emma said before doing just that.

  Catherine stared at the receiver in hand, then glanced up at Logan. “Weekly card game?” she asked. “On the same night as a huge party? Doesn’t seem plausible to me.”

  He placed the tray down by the fireplace. “Solitaire,” he explained, and rolled his eyes, laughter dancing in his gaze.

  “Oh, brother.”

  “She’s a master at avoidance. Ready for dessert?”

  “Ready to sample your culinary talents, you mean?” Catherine sat on her knees as Logan moved the tray to a low table by the couch. She leaned forward and glanced at two glass holders containing what looked like…she leaned closer and sniffed. “Chocolate pudding?” she asked.

  “Only the best chocolate pudding you’ve ever had.” He dipped a spoon into the creamy dessert and held it out for her to taste.

  She opened her mouth wide and Logan placed the spoon inside, all the while his gaze never leaving her lips. Catherine’s body heated up all over again. She closed her eyes and swallowed the delicious chocolate confection.