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Logan

Page 4

by Melissa Schroeder


  She smiled. It was hard to believe that less than a year before she had been on her own. There was not one person she could trust with her secrets, and now she had regained her friends and found an entire family.

  She leaned back into his embrace. “That he does.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  That evening they sat around the dinner table even after the platters of food had been removed. None of them wanted to leave. Tomorrow morning they would be separated once more. It was always like this when they had a trip, Logan thought. They might have their issues as a family. You can’t spend several hundred years together and not have issues. All of them would get on each other’s nerves from time to time. Still, they were a family, and for most of the years, they had only had each other.

  Of course, that had changed in the last year.

  He looked around the table noting the differences. First, there was Phoebe, the first ripple in the calm of the McLennans. And it was good. She had become the center of the family, standing beside Callum and making him a better man. Making them a better, stronger family. She was already showing and there was that glow of vitality about her now. Not to mention that Callum was now happier. He leaned closer to say something privately to her, and Logan watched a blush steal across her cheeks. Logan smiled.

  His gaze moved onto Angus’ family. Who would have thought he would gain a sister-in-law and a nephew in one? Jack had brightened the house with his laughter and his visions, even if he could be a bit ominous about it. Maggie had lightened Angus’ load, as he for her, and the two of them made a brilliant pairing.

  And with Maggie came her friends. They had appeared during those tumultuous nights when they gained the emerald, and Logan hadn’t known what to think of them. He still didn’t understand them completely.

  Rena the Fae was lethal. He knew the stories about the Fae. Modern day fairy tales portrayed them as cute, pixie dust dispensing, creatures. In reality, they were not. They usually lacked empathy for everyone, even their own kind. Rena was different. She appeared to the world as a cold Fae, who was hired for years to be the muscle for an organization. But, Logan sensed the human side of her made her different. He didn’t know if there were many human/fae creatures, or any at all. And while she was standoffish with everyone, she showed warmth to Maggie, Jack, and Meg.

  Meg.

  He watched as she laughed at something Anice said. He didn’t understand his attraction. Well, he thought, as he let his gaze roam over the bodice of her blue dress that seemed to fit every curve perfectly; he wanted her…beneath him…moaning his name. His attraction was understandable. He sighed and shifted in his seat. He grabbed his glass and took a sip of wine, trying his best to dash something cool on that fire. The woman had him burning hot for the last few months, and he should just take her to bed and get her out of his system.

  But she was complicated. Complications right now were not something he could afford. And there was that ability of hers—a woman who could woo men to their deaths. That was enough to make any man’s ballocks recede.

  As if she had heard his thoughts, she glanced at him. She was laughing still, her eyes dancing with pleasure and maybe a little bit too much wine. Their gazes met, and her smile faded a little. It was as if all the air had been sucked from his body. The rest of the people in the room faded away.

  Then, in the next instant, she looked away. Her face was pale, as she grabbed her wine glass and chugged the rest of the contents.

  “So, for the plan?” he said, looking at Callum. “How are we going to approach Morin?”

  “We aren’t going to try and outbid him?” Angus asked.

  Rena shook her head. “That would be impossible. If he is interested he will be very determined. This man lets nothing out of his grasp.”

  Without probably realizing it, she glanced at Meg. Something more than what they had told them had gone on in Paris.

  “We need to know how we are going to get it.”

  “Yes, explain it to us,” Angus said.

  “First you and Logan will approach him without Maggie and Meg,” Callum said.

  “I don’t know if that is a good idea,” Meg said.

  “Why not?” Logan asked.

  “Pierre appears to be refined. You’ve met him. People underestimate him.”

  He had seen him in an auction and the man had been ruthless. There was no doubt in Logan’s mind that Morin would destroy anything in his path.

  “No, I think he would be a very dangerous enemy.”

  Maggie nodded. “That’s why you need the witches.”

  “No.” Callum said. They both looked at him. “I want him to think nothing of Angus and Logan other than their reputations.”

  “He’ll find out I’m there.”

  “Yes, but it will look more natural,” Callum said.

  “He wants Pierre to think that Logan doesn’t know of your connection to him,” Rena said. “And that gives you the chance to use your voice on others if needed.”

  Maggie made a sound of disapproval before saying, “I don’t know—”

  “I can do it, don’t worry, Maggie,” Meg said.

  “I’ve yet to see it,” Logan said, knowing he sounded like an ass and not caring. “So, are we sure it works still?”

  “Of course it does,” Maggie said, her irritation easy to hear in her voice.

  “It’s okay, Mags. You know it doesn’t bother me.”

  Meg smiled at him, then stood. He expected her to talk, say something, but she didn’t. Instead, she drew in a deep breath, closed her eyes, and began to sing.

  It was an old Irish ballad he recognized easily, but he felt no compulsion to do anything for her. When he looked around the room, he realized all the men, including Belvidore, were focused on her. He frowned as she continued, wondering if the others were pulling his leg, but they did not take their gazes from Meg as she finished the song.

  When her voice trailed off, the men in the room gave a collective sigh, sounding more like teenagers with a crush. She opened her eyes and smiled.

  “I think that explains it.”

  He glanced around, then brought his gaze back to her. “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, so you didn’t feel anything. I know that I didn’t put the full force behind it, but you should have felt it.”

  “I did,” Fletcher said, smiling at her.

  “You would be drawn to a woman who had a hag’s voice,” Logan said drawing a speculative look from his brother.

  “I think you’re lying,” she said, sitting down. “It’s okay that you won’t admit it.”

  “I’m not lying.”

  Meg opened her mouth to argue no doubt, but Rena interrupted her. “No, he wasn’t affected. I watched him.”

  “What are you talking about?” Maggie asked.

  “I looked around the room. He was the only man who was unaffected.”

  They all turned to look at him.

  “Hmm, I wonder what that means?” Maggie said.

  Rena shrugged. “There have been men who were unaffected before.”

  “Logan isn’t gay, Rena,” Maggie said with a chuckle.

  Rena let one eyebrow rise in speculation.

  “I’m not gay,” Logan said.

  “If you say, human.”

  “I’m not gay, and I have two hundred years of—”

  “Remember who’s here,” Angus said with a glance toward Jack.

  Logan drew back in his temper. Her speculation about his preferences irritated him. Through the years, many people had speculated about his sexuality, and it had never bothered him before.

  “I think we got off track,” Callum said. “We have a plan. You get in, get the stone, get out.”

  * * * *

  “Why do you think he didn’t respond to your singing?” Rena asked when they were alone in her room with Maggie.

  She shrugged, still unable to put into words how it felt. Coming up with a reason was beyond her at the moment. Dealing with it was too much
. She had to return to her beloved Paris, and it wasn’t going to be easy to leave. This time, she was sure she would never be able to return.

  “It is quite odd,” Maggie said.

  “I’ve heard it said that only gay men—”

  “I promise you he isn’t gay, Rena,” Maggie said with a laugh.

  “If you say so. But, the only other two men who would be family and the chosen one.”

  “He is not my chosen one.”

  Both of her friends remained silent.

  “No.” They didn’t respond. “I swear he isn’t.”

  After a long pause, Maggie asked, “How did Morin respond to you when you sang?”

  “I didn’t try that.”

  She didn’t see it, but she sensed her friends shared a look.

  “Why didn’t you use your voice on him?” Maggie asked.

  “I didn’t need to,” she said turning around and sitting on the windowsill.

  “How did you meet him?” Rena asked.

  “Wait, I thought you were there with her in Paris.”

  “I wasn’t at first. Just at the…end.”

  It was their turn to share a look.

  “That sounds ominous,” Maggie said.

  “It wasn’t pleasant,” Meg said. Rena snorted.

  “Is there anything beyond what I know now that I need to know?”

  “No,” Meg said.

  “He doesn’t know you’re a witch?” Maggie asked.

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She smiled, though she knew there was no humor in it. “Yes. See Pierre thinks I am a grifter, and that’s why I can’t be trusted.”

  “I see.”

  But she would never really know how bad it was. Not those final few days after getting out of jail, thanks to Rena, and the race to leave Paris, one step ahead of Pierre’s henchmen and the press.

  “Oh, don’t look so glum, Mags. We are going to Paris, the city of light. I have a fantastic apartment. You can see the Eiffel Tower from the living room windows.”

  And just like that, she pushed the conversation from that painful memory into the excitement of the trip.

  * * * *

  Logan rolled over trying to get comfortable in his bed, but he knew it was useless. His brain wouldn’t shut off. The trip ahead, not to mention his companion, had him antsy. He couldn’t seem to quit thinking about the way she had looked tonight, the way she had smiled at him, and the sound of her voice. He had been truthful when he said that he hadn’t been lured by it. But…now he couldn’t get it out of his head.

  He slipped out of bed and pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, and decided to have some tea and biscuits. As he made his way to the kitchen, he started to make a mental list of places he wanted to visit while they were in Paris. It had been a few years since he’d been there. He knew they were there for the quest, but there was no reason he couldn’t enjoy the place. It would be more convincing for their cover story. He might even take Meg to a place or two.

  Now that he thought back to his last trip, he wondered if they had been there at the same time. He shook his head, as he stepped into the kitchen.

  He was not alone.

  Standing at the stove, dressed all in red, was Meg. There was only the light above the stove to lighten the room. Her honey brown curls spilled over her shoulders and her skin appeared almost luminous. He knew she was real, but she looked like an otherworldly vision.

  He must have moved, because she jumped and spilled some of the boiling water on her hand.

  “Damn,” she said, and set the kettle back down. He rushed forward.

  “Did you get burned?”

  “Well, it was boiling water, so yeah.”

  He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her over to the sink. After turning on the cold water, he stuck her hand under it.

  “I know how to take care of a burn. I am not an infant.”

  He heard the annoyance in her voice, and it rubbed against him the wrong way. He did nothing but come down to the kitchen, and she acted as if he had done something horrible.

  “Feel better?”

  “Yes.”

  Logan noticed she didn’t say thank you. He turned off the water and handed her a towel.

  “Mind sharing your water?”

  She pursed her lips. “Since you tended my injury, I must be gracious.”

  He chuckled. “Were you going to have some tea?”

  She nodded. “Mine always sucks though.”

  “American.”

  “Yes and proud of it.”

  He grabbed some tea and measured it out for two cups.

  “But you spend all your time here.”

  She sighed. “I have a soft spot for Scotland. And Ireland, oh and Paris.”

  “You’ve never been back to Paris since you lived there before?”

  “No.”

  No other explanation.

  “Is there any chance that Morin would have people looking for you?”

  “No. Well, okay, maybe. I know he keeps someone on the apartment. Last time Rena was there, she saw them.”

  “And they’re still alive?”

  She smiled. “Yes, I told her killing them would only cause me more problems, so she abstained. She was very sad though.”

  The half-fae was definitely deadly.

  “I know you don’t like me, Logan.”

  “I don’t trust you.”

  She sighed. “And you don’t trust, which I don’t blame you. You don’t know me.”

  He nodded. “Yes, but it doesn’t mean I don’t like you.”

  She stilled, then swallowed. “So, you like me.”

  He had been keeping the feelings at bay for weeks. It had taken a lot of his control not to act on the need he had for her. Now, in the dark kitchen, with the silent house around them, he couldn’t resist her. He stepped closer.

  “More than is good for me,” he said.

  She looked up at him, her mouth half opened. He could smell the spicy scent of her, the one he dreamed about. It lured him unlike anything else before.

  “Then…” she broke off.

  “What?”

  “Then why do you treat me the way you do? You always look at me as if I disgust you.”

  He shook his head. “No. You tempt me and we have no time for being muddle-headed for this.”

  “But?”

  “Aye, lass, but,” he said, as he slid his hand around her waist and pulled her closer to him. “I’m tired of resisting.”

  He damned them both, as he bent his head and kissed her.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  For a moment, Meghan didn’t respond to Logan. He wondered if he had read the signs wrong, perhaps he had just wanted her so badly that he built up the idea of her attraction. Desperation clawed at him as he continued to kiss her. He wanted her to know just how much he desired her touch.

  Then, she reacted. Almost in an instant, she went from stoic to liquid heat in his arms. She opened her mouth and pressed up against him but it wasn’t enough. He needed to be closer, to feel her flesh against his, to have her heart beat with his.

  Logan slipped his hands down her body, enjoying the way his palms moved over her generous curves. It did not take much to urge her closer.

  She wasn’t wearing a bra. Her nipples pressed against his chest, as he slanted his head and deepened the kiss. His tongue dipped into her mouth and she hummed. The sound of it, along with the vibrations, danced through him, tangled with his soul.

  He backed her up against the counter. He was lost in her. The way she tasted, the way she smelled, the way she slanted her head to give him better access. Need for her, for this feeling she spawned inside of him, grew, expanded, overwhelmed. Logan ground against her, allowing Meg to know just how aroused he was, just how much he wanted her.

  In the next second, the kettle whistled. They both jumped apart as if they had been committing a crime.

  Neither of them said a word, their heavy breathing an
d the kettle the only sound in the kitchen. She was the first to recover. She hurried over to the stove and removed the teakettle. He watched her, trying to catch his breath and think of something to say.

  “I think I will just go to bed,” she said, without turning around.

  She moved past him but he stopped her. He wrapped his hand around her delicate wrist. She turned to look at him and in that instant, he saw the vulnerability he had always sensed but never witnessed. She didn’t look like the hardened grifter, but like a woman with a heart that could be damaged.

  “Please don’t.”

  He barely heard her whisper, but he did hear the way her voice quivered. He could have her. Logan knew it and so did she. They could throw caution to the wind and make love, right there.

  It would be soul shattering…and devastating.

  He looked down at his hand on her wrist.

  “Logan, please.”

  It was a simple request and for a moment, he wanted to say no. He never manhandled women, and he wasn’t ready to start now. But…he hated that she was leaving like this.

  “I’m sorry.”

  The moment he said the words, her face paled. He regretted them more than anything else that had happened between them. He wanted to call them back, but she didn’t give him a chance. Her eyes hardened and she ground her teeth together.

  “That’s makes two of us.” She wrenched her arm away from him, and hurried out of the kitchen.

  He leaned against the counter and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the way his body had responded. It wasn’t that he’d been attracted to her, or he wanted to shag her until both of them could not walk a straight line, that scared him. There was something else that had him worrying. That one little kiss had touched something inside of him.

  They weren’t going to be able to ignore it. If they never saw each other again, he would still want her. Not the normal kind of need that he was accustomed to. This was something that he knew would leave them both damaged if things went wrong.

  Logan thought back to the kiss, the way she had felt in his arms, and the way it had just felt…right. He kept his relationships easy. He could count his former lovers among his friends…those that were still alive. He knew without a doubt, with the level of need he felt for Meghan, there would be no friendship if it failed.

 

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