by Lexy Timms
The words settled warm and glowing in Olivia’s chest, and she smiled. “Was it hard to get used to that? Being recognized, I mean. And getting asked to sign body parts.”
Logan laughed, letting go of her hands to reach for the wine list. “Aye. At first it was a bit odd. I was always shocked that someone knew my name, especially after we left Scotland. It wasn’t so surprising there. We were a big hit at home well before anyone across the pond discovered our music. But the first time it happened somewhere else, I was completely thrown.
“Now, though, I’m fair used to it.” He shook his head. “Signing arms, though, that’s a new one on me. I asked her what would happen if she decided someday that she didn’t like my music. She said she’d always love me even so.”
Olivia grinned. “The price of fame: your name forever tattooed on a girl’s arm.”
“I’d rather have it etched on someone’s heart.”
A blush rose in Olivia’s cheeks, and she felt suddenly shy as she looked at Logan over her water glass. The waiter arrived, taking their order, returning with a bottle of wine. Olivia toyed with hers. For a few minutes it had been easy to let the events of the afternoon slide away, but in the moment of quiet they all came rushing back in.
“You seem distracted. Is something bothering you?” Logan was watching her closely, for once his eyes serious, no playful smile lurking at the corners of his mouth. He’s worried. About me? Or about us?
She kept her eyes down, debating just how much to reveal. “Just work. It’s been busy. And Melissa was let go. So that’s been... rough.”
Logan frowned. “I feel I’m letting you down somehow. You’re so focused on me, on the case. And I have no idea what’s going on with you.”
“You can’t think that way,” Olivia said, shaking her head. “I don’t think that at all. Please don’t feel that you’re neglecting me.”
She reached across the table for his hand. “You have to admit that this hasn’t been a very conventional relationship so far. Please, don’t for a minute think that you’re lacking in any way. You have so much to think about with the band, with Ashton. I’m fine, really.”
Logan’s lips curved up into their accustomed smile. “It’s just my manly pride that makes me think I should take care of you, in every way, all the time. And I should know how. But you’re right. This is anything but conventional.”
He squeezed her hand. “And I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
They made small talk for the rest of dinner, Olivia artfully avoiding any further conversation about work. But on the short walk back to Logan’s hotel, he held her hand and she told him an abbreviated version of Melissa’s firing.
“It was just such a shock. I thought everything was going well. But I guess I have a lot to learn about managing stuff.”
“You’ll be fine. You’re good with people.” Logan’s thumb stroked the back of her hand. “Are you sure it was really Melissa and not something else? Something from higher up?”
Olivia tensed. Did Logan suspect there was more happening at work? Or was she that paranoid? There was no way she could explain what was happening with Ryan. Logan might not be the macho fighter type, but she had no doubt that if he found out what was going on he’d not hesitate to put a fist in Ryan’s face.
“No. Nothing else. I guess I got too dependent on her, and now I’m paying the price.”
They took the elevator to Logan’s room. There were several bouquets of fresh flowers scattered around the place, and Olivia bent to an arrangement, inhaling the sweet scent of the blooms.
“From adoring fans?”
Logan wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder. It was almost strange, she thought, how different it felt like this, with Logan. Ryan’s body so close to hers made her want to flee the room. But with Logan she felt safe. Cared for. She felt like a human being, and not just some object he desired.
“No,” Logan said. “They’re for you. I wanted to send them to your office, but I didn’t think it would be exactly subtle. So they’re here, for you to enjoy.”
Olivia turned to Logan, lips parted to speak, but he caught her in a kiss. He held her gently, and she melted against him, her words forgotten, all thoughts of work and Ryan pushed from her mind.
Eventually, he broke the kiss, leading her into the bedroom. With gentle fingers he undressed her and carefully placed each item on a chair. He held her hands when she reached for the buttons on his shirt, gently walking her backwards until her legs brushed against the bed. She sat down, sliding back, pulling her legs up onto the mattress.
Silently, Logan climbed up beside her, lying next to her, his legs wrapped around hers. He brushed the hair back from her forehead, then traced a line down her cheek, her throat, down to the tops of her breasts.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I think I’ve ever seen,” he said, his tone approaching something like reverence. “I’ve told you that, but it’s true. The first time I saw you I thought you were magical, even if you were arguing with the bartender like a drunk at last call.”
Olivia was startled into laughing. She swatted his shoulder with a hand. “Logan Graham. That is not how you compliment a woman.”
He grinned, irrepressible, and pulled her closer. “No,” he agreed. “But I wanted to hear you laugh.”
His eyes grew serious, though the smile still lingered on his mouth. “However it began, Olivia, you’re mine now. For just as long as you’ll have me.”
His lips were on hers again, firm and gentle at the same time. His tongue traced the curve of her mouth, and she let her lips part, the kiss deepening.
It was familiar, and yet somehow new. The giddy sense of excitement, of discovery, now came with the feeling of comfort and growing ease. She ran her hands over his body, not with the rushing eagerness she’d felt before, but with a slow purpose. With the pleasure of knowing she felt safe with Logan. Her fingers trailed lightly across warm skin, caressed curves of muscle she was starting to know by heart.
Logan leaned on one elbow, looking down at her, his fingers slowly drawing circles on the soft skin of her breast. “You’re different tonight. Softer. Relaxed, I think. I like it.” He kissed her forehead, her cheek.
“I’m happy.” The words slipped between her lips before she realized she’d spoken. But as soon as she heard them, she knew it was true. She smiled at Logan.
“I’m glad,” he said, amusement crossing his face. “It’d be a terrible shame if you weren’t. And I’d feel guilty, being the only one here who’s happy.”
He leaned over, claiming her breast with his mouth. Olivia ran her fingers through his hair, drew him closer. As he moved lower, kissing a wandering path down her body, she sighed, shifting as he moved between her legs, his hands resting beneath her, cupping her to him. It felt good to be handled so gently. To be taken care of like she was something precious.
His tongue stroked over the center of her and Olivia’s spine arched, her fingers curling tight in the sheets as it flicked across her clit. She bit back the cry that wanted to spill from her throat. Patrick had always had to be talked into doing this, but Logan seemed eager, groaning against her when she writhed in his hold. His hands gripped her hips a little tighter.
The rest of her body felt weightless as he went on, using his mouth and tongue to slowly drive her wild. Everything reduced down to the fire at her core, the tension of building pleasure. She’d stopped caring about the sounds she made. Stopped caring about anything but the way that Logan felt—the way he made her feel. The fire grew, surging up through her body, and white light exploded behind her eyes.
He held her for a long time, his head resting on her hip, his breath soft across her stomach, as her breathing slowed, as her heart stopped thudding in her chest. She ran one hand through his hair, and he looked up at her, a slow smile spreading on his lips.
Without a word, he moved up her body, the weight of him slowly pinning her to the sheets, pressing her down
as he settled between her legs. When he took her, it was slow and focused, each movement fanning the fire he’d started.
She was breathless as she watched him, his face close to hers, his eyes moving over her face, taking in every detail.
When Logan came, he buried his head against Olivia’s shoulder. No soft words this time. No murmurs against her skin. She felt his mouth open against her neck, an exhalation as he let go, and then a low groan, like the sound was dragged out of the core of him. He shook and trembled and she held him to her, the power and force of his release so evident in his body.
After a long time, he pulled away, rolling onto his back. Again, he searched for her hand, holding it fast in his, bringing it against his chest. When he spoke, his voice was far away. “You remind me of home,” he said, softly. “Of green hills and sudden storms that fall on the mountains, wild with thrashing wind, fading into soft gray skies touched with rainbows. And the sun comes out and it’s warm again.” He turned toward her. “I want to take you there. To walk in the heather and see the lochs. Just us, and no one else, and no worries. It would be grand.”
“I’d like that. Just us.” Olivia sighed. “Just us and no one else.” Curling against his shoulder, she let herself enjoy the fantasy of running away to Scotland with Logan.
It was much later, after they’d come together again, that she heard him murmur the Gaelic words he’d said before. She didn’t need to ask this time what they meant. They settled on her heart, etching themselves there.
She thought of the safety she felt in his arms, the way her whole world lit up when he was near. They’d known each other for almost no time at all, but already she couldn’t imagine her life without him in it. She smiled.
“I love you too.”
Reaching out in the dark, she found his hand and held it against her heart.
Chapter Nine
Even with the lack of sleep, Olivia was at her desk well before anyone else the next morning. She wanted to keep off Ryan’s radar, do her job and concentrate on Logan’s case. But she found herself drifting into thoughts of her night with him, lingering on the Gaelic words she now recognized when he whispered them against her skin. She caught herself sighing more than once, idly tapping her pen against her lips.
The chime of her email brought her back from another daydream. It was from Lori. She clicked the icon and opened the attachment. It was the confirmation of the filing for Logan’s case. Her heart did a little flip. Filings were routine for her, but this meant they had taken the first step in hopefully repairing the damage Jack Ashton had caused. Now it was just a matter of waiting for Ashton’s answer and, as Olivia had told Logan, the possibility of Ashton’s counter suit.
She dialed Logan’s cell phone, re-reading the email as the call went through.
“Hello.” Logan’s voice was groggy, and Olivia cringed.
“I woke you. I’m sorry.”
“Aye, but I don’t mind it. Waking to your voice is more a treat than a chore. I should be doing things anyway, not lying about in bed.”
Olivia felt a smile rise. He never failed to improve her mood. “I have news. We filed today. It’s official.”
“Well then. That’s progress. I feel better now, even though I know the worst is yet to come.”
“The worst may be the public side of it all,” Olivia said, settling into the professional tone that came naturally with discussing cases. “Depending on how Ashton reacts in the press. You’ll have to be prepared to hear some very ugly things.”
“I know Ashton, and yes, he has a very sharp tongue and a very short temper. I’ll be on my own in this. There’s nothing I can do but tell the truth.”
“I’d advise you to say nothing, actually. But we can talk about that later, as things progress. You and I and Ryan can meet and decide on how we want you to handle the publicity.”
“I want to see you again.” Logan’s voice was low, seductive, and Olivia’s heart started beating faster.”
“You just saw me,” she reminded him. “Something like six hours ago.”
“It’s been that long? Too long. Any time is too long.” She heard his soft laugh. “You bring out the romantic in my, Olivia. I’ll be writing love songs now in the wee hours instead of rock.”
A flush heated Olivia’s cheeks. “I’m sure your fans will appreciate that.”
“The only opinion I care about is yours.”
Someone walked past the closed door of her office, and the reminder that she was still at work pulled Olivia out of the giddy mood that Logan’s voice had prompted.
“I should go,” she said, reluctantly. “I’ll call you when I’m home, though. Come to my apartment and I’ll make you dinner. I’ll even find a bottle of Macallan for us.”
Logan laughed. “You cook. I’ll bring the Macallan.”
“Deal.”
Olivia ended the call and sat staring down at her phone for a moment, a smile still on her lips. Then she set it aside and turned to her case files once more.
The afternoon passed quickly. Nathan Hunter called to set up interviews for a new paralegal. Olivia mentally chastised herself for not calling Melissa and made a mental note to do that as soon as she got home.
It was almost five o’clock when her phone rang. She answered and was greeted by Ryan’s furious voice. “My office. Now.”
The line went dead.
Dread washed through Olivia. What did he want now? What else could he possibly blame me for?
A few minutes later, she was standing outside Ryan’s door. He was seated at his work table, with what looked like a stack of glossy photos.
“Come in,” he said tightly. “Close the door. Sit.”
Olivia didn’t dare to refuse. She stepped quickly inside and shut the door, taking the indicated seat with her knees pressed tight together and her hands knotted in her lap.
Ryan gathered the photos, tapping them square, and laid them on the table in front of Olivia. She looked down.
The image on top of the stack was Logan, with a pretty blonde woman Olivia thought she’d seen somewhere before. A model. Or a former model.
“Logan Graham. In all his glory.” Ryan leaned back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest, and watched her.
Olivia lifted one hand to flip to the next photo. And then the next. Each of them showed Logan with a different woman. In all of them he had his arm around the woman; in many they were kissing. She felt a sharp spike of jealousy at seeing him like that, wrapped around someone else, but he’d told her there had been some—more than he liked to admit. And that he hadn’t been with anyone else since that first night. Olivia had believed him then, she couldn’t doubt him now. Even so, it was uncomfortable to see it all laid out in black and white.
“Where did you get these?” She looked up from the stack at Ryan’s blank expression. His blue eyes were cold. “And what do they have to do with anything?”
“They were delivered today by courier. I suspect from Jack Ashton, but there was no note attacked so I can’t be sure.”
Olivia put the stack down. “I don’t really see the point of this. Logan’s personal life isn’t part of the suit.”
Ryan pointed to the stack. “Keep going.”
Olivia flipped through the remaining photos. And there it was. The last photo in the set.
It was of her. Very clearly her. In the bar with Logan, almost sitting on his lap. They were locked in an embrace. One she remembered very well. She closed her eyes. She’d worried about pictures, but far too late.
“Care to explain?” Ryan’s voice held something more than professional disapproval. His jaw was tight and his words were uttered through clenched teeth. Olivia supposed the jealousy shouldn’t have surprised her.
“It was before he became my client.”
“And since he’s been your...our client? Has this relationship continued?”
“No.” Olivia felt a flush creep up her cheeks, something she knew happened when she was caught in a lie. She hoped Ryan
would think it was just embarrassment at the photos and nothing more.
“Do you know what this will do to the case, much less your career, and the reputation of the firm if this goes public? It’s a serious conflict of interest. And if this package came from Ashton, which I strongly suspect it did, it will be splashed across the front of every tabloid willing to listen. You’re tanking the case before it’s even started.”
“But this was before the suit.” She knew her protests weren’t going to make any difference. Something was wrong. A nagging feeling she was missing a vital connection. But she just couldn’t put her finger on it.
“Is there anything that can be done? Any damage control the firm can do?”
Ryan stood, pacing in front of the window. The tension in his body was obvious, and Olivia felt her own body tense as she watched him, heard the rising anger in his voice.
“Damage control? Yes. For one, you can be taken off the case. Two, you can be let go from the firm. Any damage control starts with getting rid of you first, Olivia. You can’t expect us to sweep this under the rug. Sleeping with a client is a serious violation of ethics.”
“Ryan.” Her voice was louder than she expected.
He turned, scowling at her.
She knew what it was, the nagging inconsistency in her mind. Ryan had no way of knowing she was sleeping with Logan. He suspected the worst, leapt to that conclusion. But he had no proof. And the photo in his hand was not evidence of an affair, even as damning as it might seem.
She made the effort to lower her voice. “Listen. The photo was taken more than a month ago. And—” She held up the image. “I’m not sleeping with him in this photo. Based on this, why are you accusing me of it?”
“Because everyone else will too!” Ryan snapped. “You’re missing the point. This has nothing to do with me. You’ll be tried in the media, and you and I both know how that goes. It will destroy your client’s case.”
Olivia sighed. “Let’s wait. See how this plays out. You don’t know where these photos came from. Planning for the worst is one thing, but you’re convicting me without any evidence at all.” She tried to maintain some kind of professional calm, but her heart was pounding, and she knew her face was still flushed.
