by Kate Hardy
Sally had no chance of competing. It would take years and years of city life before she developed the finely honed sophistication and fashion know-how of the women who’d been born and bred here.
So what if Logan had been relaxed and happy this evening? Dinner and pleasant conversation did not mean that she and the boss were an item.
Now, as they walked beside the harbour to the parked car, their tense silence seemed to magnify the sounds of the night. Footsteps on paving stones. Waves from the wake of a boat slap-slapping against the harbour’s rock wall. The blast of a ferry’s horn, warning that it was about to leave Circular Quay.
A fresh burst of wind gusted across the inky water, making Sally shiver.
‘You’re cold,’ Logan said. ‘Here, have my jacket.’ Gallantly, he ignored her protests that it wasn’t far to the car and he slipped his jacket around her shoulders.
‘Thanks,’ she whispered and a high voltage thrill zapped through her when the silky lining settled intimately over her shoulders. The silk was warm from Logan’s body heat and the very thought that his hunky torso had been inside this garment robbed her breath and made her head spin.
Running footsteps erupted on the pavement behind them and Logan, immediately alert, kept his arm protectively around her. But their pursuers turned out to be a group of young people, running and laughing to catch the last ferry. Logan’s arm remained there and Sally thought there was every chance her knees might give way before they reached the car.
‘Keep the jacket on,’ he said as he opened the car door for her.
She looked up and her breathing faltered when she saw his face in the faint moonlight.
This isn’t a date. He’s out of my league.
Nevertheless, the emotion shimmering in Logan’s eyes stole Sally’s breath. A shadow fell as he dipped his head closer and she knew that he was going to kiss her.
Her senses reached out to him. Instinctively, she lifted her lips just a fraction…
‘Sally,’ he whispered and his dark gaze devoured her, roving from her hair to her eyes, to her mouth, her white throat.
His hand lifted to touch her hair and Sally held her breath. Her blood hummed with anticipation. Every cell in her waited…
But then she saw sadness—unmistakably—in his eyes. With a gruff, thick-throated sound, he dropped his hand and stepped back abruptly.
Mortified, Sally scrambled into the car and pulled the door shut before Logan could attend to it. Fighting silly tears of disappointment, she scolded herself for being so foolish. Of course she understood that Logan couldn’t kiss her. How could he when they’d both spent the entire evening making a song and dance about the fact that he was her boss and this was not a date?
When they reached her house, he walked her to the door, but she didn’t ask him in.
‘Thanks for your jacket,’ she said as she handed it to him. ‘And thanks for a lovely evening.’
‘My pleasure, Sally. Thanks for your company.’ About to return to his car, he said, ‘I should have checked my diary. I’ll let you know on Monday about the next lesson. Is that all right?’
If she was sensible, she would have told him that she couldn’t manage any more dancing lessons. She was quite sure she couldn’t endure more time alone with him. But he’d just bought her a lavish meal. And, honestly, even though she knew it was pointless to love him, how could she bear to give him up?
‘Sure,’ she said softly. ‘You still need some more polish. Let me know on Monday.’
When he reached her front gate, she called, ‘Have a good weekend.’
‘Thanks, Sally. You, too.’
As she went inside, she thought, I’m not sure that’s possible.
Memories of that moment when Logan had almost kissed her reverberated in Sally’s awareness all weekend. As a distraction, she invited Anna and the children over for Sunday lunch and afterwards they all went to a park by the harbour, played on the swings, fed the ducks and generally had a good time. Sally fought off memories of that time she’d seen her boss playing in the park with his nephews.
On Monday morning, Logan arrived at Blackcorp with his mobile phone welded to his ear. He gave Sally a hurried nod as he sped past her, then disappeared.
So…it was business as usual. What else did I expect?
She was a fool to be disappointed.
Maeve bounced in with a smile that spread from ear to ear. She and her geologist had spent a weekend away in the Blue Mountains and it had been so-o-o romantic. Sally tried not to feel jealous, with little success.
Maeve was in the middle of describing a marble spa bath set in a bay window overlooking the Megalong Valley when Maria Paige swept through the security door.
Sally couldn’t explain why, but something about the boss’s PA bothered her. She always felt on edge whenever Maria was around.
Pushing past Maeve, as if she were invisible, Maria dumped a pile of computer disks on the desk in front of Sally. ‘Can you be a darling, Sally, and download these on to a file on your computer?’
A darling? Sally choked back an exclamation. What was this about? She knew her job description didn’t include working under the direction of Logan’s personal assistant. Just the same, she wanted to please this woman. Maria was the only person in the company who sent off negative vibes and Sally certainly didn’t want to make an enemy of her.
‘Don’t look so worried, Sally. I just need a backup. For security.’
‘Of course. I’ll get on to it straight away.’
With a thin smile, Maria spun around and, ignoring Maeve again, marched back through the security door.
Maeve watched in silence until she’d gone, then gave an expressive roll of her eyes. ‘It might be wise to remember that you’re a very small finch.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘That one’s a predator, and a dangerous one at that.’
‘Oh, come on, Maeve. That’s a bit mean. Maria’s a bit sharp, but I suspect she’s under a lot of pressure, working for someone like Logan…I…I mean Mr Black.’
Maeve shook her head slowly. ‘I’ve been watching that woman for two years and I’m still waiting for her to pounce. You be careful with her, my girl.’
She tapped her nose knowingly and walked on, but her warning echoed like a menacing alarm bell as Sally loaded the first disk and started saving Maria’s files.
In the middle of the afternoon, however, any niggles of disquiet about Maria’s request flew out of her head when the boss telephoned.
‘I hope this isn’t too late notice, but would tomorrow evening suit you for another dancing lesson?’
Sally knew she should give him an excuse. Could she really go through another night of self-torture? Perhaps she should tell him she was babysitting Oliver and Rose.
But it would be a lie and Sally was terminally honest. Logan needed at least one more lesson. How could she let him down?
Miserably aware that she was inviting another round of heartache, she assured him that Tuesday evening was fine.
This wasn’t working.
Halfway through the second dancing lesson, Logan’s concentration was shot to pieces.
It was crazy, really, because tonight’s session should have been so much easier than the first one. Not only had he one or two clues about waltzing now, but Sally had been considerate enough to abandon the dangerous low-backed yellow dress in favour of a simple T-shirt and boyish jeans.
Her shirt was high-necked with long sleeves, so Logan was spared the distraction of her bare, soft and silky skin. But, even though she was clothed from neck to toe, Sally Finch still provided far too many distractions. Logan’s fingers could sense the supple warmth of her through the T-shirt’s thin fabric, could smell her clean hair, her fresh, fragrant skin.
This close, she made him too painfully conscious of the lush invitation of her lips, smiling mere inches from his.
But the worst torment came from his own clumsiness, which caused him to bump, every so
often, against her. Each brush against Sally was like a teasing promise, each brief point of contact a burning fiery brand.
If this went on much longer, Logan feared he might self-combust.
In the past, if he’d been aroused by a woman, he would have moved swiftly to seduce her. In the past, he’d always been able to steer his desires towards suitable women who were as pragmatic as he was about balancing their desires with the demands of their careers.
In the past, Logan had not met Sally.
Sweet, warm and dangerous Sally.
He feared, at some deeply primitive level, that if he took Sally to his bed, he would want to keep her there for ever. And that wasn’t part of the game plan.
‘Logan, lead with your body, not with your feet,’ Sally’s voice commanded from somewhere below his ear.
Sweat trickled down the back of his neck. If he led with his body, he would bump into her again.
‘Look to the left to watch where you’re going.’
Logan looked to his left and he twirled her as lightly and deftly as he could.
‘Smile!’ cried Sally.
‘I can’t.’
That was asking too much.
To his relief, the music they’d been dancing to came to an end and Sally stopped. ‘That was great, wasn’t it?’
‘Do you think so?’ He was sure he’d made next to no progress.
‘Oh, yes.’ She spoke soothingly—a teacher calming an over-anxious pupil. ‘I think you’ve almost mastered the waltz.’
Crossing to the player plugged into the wall, she said, ‘Have you thought about any other dances you’d like to learn?’
‘Other dances?’
‘You’re going to spend an entire evening at the ball and you can’t waltz the whole time.’
‘But I’m only dancing the one dance for the charity.’
‘Oh, Logan, don’t be silly. You can’t stand out for the whole evening.’
‘Can’t I?’
‘Everyone else will be dancing. Your partner will expect you to dance with her. That’s what balls are all about.’
Exactly. And he’d been tardy about finding a partner for this function. Apart from the fact that he thought of it as an ordeal that had to be endured, he’d delayed his invitation because no one on his usual list of female companions had felt right. Carissa had rung at the weekend to warn him, somewhat heatedly, that he was running out of time.
Sally fiddled with the player, pressing buttons until she found different music. A bright and modern and up-tempo sound erupted, filling the room with its brassy, foot-tapping beat.
Swaying and nodding in time to it, Sally sent him a cheeky grin. ‘What about trying a little of the old disco shuffle? Just to loosen up? You’ve been to nightclubs, surely?’
‘Occasionally, but do they allow that kind of dancing at balls?’ He had to raise his voice to reach her above the thumping noise.
‘I’d be surprised if they didn’t include some. It is the twenty-first century, after all.’ Arms above her head, Sally jiggled and shook, making her bright curls bounce. ‘Come on, Logan. Let me see what you’ve got.’
He would have liked to simply stand there and watch Sally. She was so lively and pretty, so graceful and glowing. She shimmied up to him, swaying her lithe body and holding her hands out in front of her. ‘Just move. You can stay in one spot if you like, but get those feet going.’
Logan nodded his head and started to move self-consciously.
‘Close your eyes,’ she instructed. ‘Forget I’m here. Just listen to the music and feel that beat.’
It certainly helped to close his eyes. Without the distraction of Sally in front of him, he could hear the pumping rhythm, the throb of the bass, pounding in time to his accelerated heartbeat.
‘Now let yourself go,’ Sally urged. ‘Loosen your shoulders and go with the flow.’
Her voice was surprisingly close and, when he opened his eyes, he found her bobbing and swaying beside him. ‘Come on,’ she coaxed with another glowing smile, ‘forget you’re the boss and just hang loose.’
Taking his hands in hers, Sally drew him gently towards her. That did it. The temptation was too much. Forget dancing! Logan closed the gap between them, gathered Sally in and kissed her.
CHAPTER TEN
SALLY stopped dancing. Her entire system stopped, stilled by the sweet shock of Logan’s lips touching hers.
A moment’s fear claimed her as she remembered that other time, that other man she’d danced with and that other kiss that had turned so quickly into a nightmare.
A wave of panic rose instinctively. But then, thankfully, reason kicked in.
This man wasn’t remotely like Kyle Francis. This was Logan, the man she’d been fantasising about for weeks now. She knew him well. She’d been alone with him many times. She’d met his grandmother, for heaven’s sake, and she really, really wanted his kiss.
Winding her arms about Logan’s neck, her hesitation dissolved. There was no more doubt, no fear—just an amazing melting happiness. Logan’s lips were tender and sensuous, his kiss unhurried, almost lazy, as if he knew her worst fears and how to allay them with one perfect, sensuous, dizzying kiss.
Twining his hand in her hair, he tilted her head back so that he could take the kiss deeper while his other hand supported the small of her back, holding her against him, which was just as well because her body and her legs were melting faster than sugar in hot tea.
Never had she felt so safe, yet sexy. She wanted to wrap herself around Logan. She wanted to—
His body stiffened suddenly and he lifted his mouth from hers.
Dazed, disappointed, Sally blinked and saw that he was glaring in the direction of the door. The open door.
The security guard was standing there, confusion and embarrassment in his eyes. He said something that they couldn’t hear above the blare of the music. Sally hurried to turn it off.
The sudden silence was shocking.
‘I—I’m terribly sorry, Mr Black.’ The guard was red-faced as he scratched at the top of his bald head. ‘I heard the music and I thought some kids had broken in.’
Logan didn’t reply. He stood there with his hands on his hips, staring with a narrowed, angry gaze in the direction of the door. Clearly, he hated this moment and it was Sally’s fault. She’d played the rowdy music. She’d taunted him with her come-and-get-me dancing.
‘It’s OK, Reg,’ Logan said at last. ‘There’s no problem here. We’re just finishing up.’
‘I’ll be on my way, then.’ The guard’s eyes were still wide with disbelief as he exited backwards, pulling the door closed as he went.
Logan turned and his gaze met Sally’s. Her heart thumped as they stood watching each other without speaking. It was an age before he reacted and then his mouth tilted into a tiny lopsided smile. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly. ‘I shouldn’t have kissed you.’
So that was how it was going to be. He would dismiss it as a mistake, easily forgotten. Sally managed to turn her sigh of disappointment into a casual shrug. ‘It doesn’t matter.’ She forced a cheerful smile. ‘We can blame it on the music.’
He seemed relieved that she was happy to leave it at that. ‘I guess we’ve done enough for tonight,’ he said. ‘I should take you home now.’
Her mind was reeling from the double shock of his kiss and its interruption and she simply nodded and unplugged the player from the wall.
They walked back to the car in silence.
Before Logan turned on the ignition, he said, ‘If you open the glove box, you’ll find a CD that I thought might interest you. I meant to show it to you earlier.’
Sally took it out and read the label. ‘Hattie Lane at the Piano. Is this your grandmother’s music?’
He nodded and set the car in motion, reversing smoothly out of the parking space.
‘I’d love to hear Hattie play. Can we listen to this now?’
‘You’re welcome to borrow it.’
The car sho
t out into the busy lanes of traffic and Sally stared at Logan’s handsome profile. What an enigma he was—one minute distancing himself from her and behaving as if their kiss was nothing more than a careless mistake, and then suddenly opening a door into his private life and offering to share something of deep personal significance. Did he realise he was sending her so many mixed signals?
When he pulled up outside her house, he said, ‘About the ball.’
Sally hoped he wasn’t going to ask for another lesson. How could she stand the stress of pretending this was just about business? She’d already breached her personal pain threshold.
But the question of lessons wasn’t raised. Instead, Logan looked at her and continued calmly, as if he were discussing the weather, ‘I thought you might like to come to the ball. As my partner.’
This time Sally didn’t just stare, she gasped. Several times. Logan had, quite literally, taken her breath away.
‘You’ve told me how much you love balls and this is a truly glittering event,’ he added with a smile that was pure Prince Charming. ‘And I can’t think of anyone I know who’d enjoy this ball as much as you would.’
‘But…I…we…’
‘Don’t you think you’ve earned it, Sally?’
Her mouth opened and shut. She was quite sure she should refuse him loudly and promptly, and her inability to do this immediately was frightening. Her best defence against this boss, who sent her so many confusing signals, was to stay well clear.
His right hand tightened around the steering wheel. ‘To be honest, I should confess that the whole Diana Devenish thing still terrifies me and I could do with a little moral support.’ He shot her another of his gorgeous smiles. ‘A comrade in arms, so to speak.’
Sally gulped. ‘Like a coach, cheering you on from the sidelines?’
