Your Captivating Love (The Bennett Family Book 2)

by Layla Hagen

  I raise my eyebrows. My memories don’t go that far back. The only memories of Daniel and Blake I have from our childhood are that Sebastian and I pranked them to no end. When they grew up, the twins pranked our asses off as revenge. They got much better at it than Sebastian and I. But I trust my dad to have a more extensive memory of those early days.

  “You know what happened?” he continues. “It took them a lot longer to learn how to rise back up on their tiny feet after falling because you were constantly keeping them from doing so. You’ve always been protective, and it’s commendable. Sometimes, though, it’s good to let people make mistakes so they can learn from them. ”

  “Are you suggesting I let Archer scam Nadine?” My words come out harsher than I intended.

  “No, of course not. Not in this case. What I meant was that you always try to solve everyone’s problems, and it’s not always for the best. Sometimes, all you have to do is be by their side while they solve their problems, giving them your counsel. What I suggest is you tell her what you know and let her handle it. The secret to a happy marriage is honesty.”

  I open my mouth to say Nadine and I are not married, and then it hits me. I want to marry this woman. I’ve never been more certain of anything. While I digest this epiphany, my dad goes on and on about him being honest with Mom.

  “Dad,” I interrupt. “Drop the act. You went behind her back when you covered for Blake and Daniel at school.”

  “Well,” Dad says. “Your mother can be very stubborn sometimes, and a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.”

  I chuckle. “So, the secret to a happy marriage is to be honest, except those times when you’re not honest.”

  “You’re twisting my words, son.”

  “I believe I’m just summing everything up. Did you ever tell Mom about covering for the twins?”

  “No. And I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t either.”

  “Don’t worry, Dad, I wouldn’t want to incur Mom’s wrath. But I did understand your point.”

  “You love this woman.”

  “I do,” I affirm.

  He pats my shoulder. “We’re happy for you, son. After everything that happened with Sylvia, we feared you were going to swear on being a bachelor.”

  The mention of Sylvia no longer brings the sour taste it used to. Nadine wiped that away too.

  “We want you to be happy.”

  “I know. Thanks, the talk helped. Now I have a plan.”

  Like Dad said, a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.

  ***

  The pre-Nadine Logan would have done things the following way: I would’ve ruined the bastard’s business with a few phone calls, and stormed into his office to tell him to stay away from Nadine.

  The current Logan will wait until after the show to talk to Nadine, and then decide together what the best punishment for this asshole is. I still hope to convince her that wiping his business out is the best thing.

  But I am still going to his office to warn the moron to stay away from Nadine. I walk into his office the day before the show. His office is in a slimy neighborhood. Fits him, I guess. His secretary inspects me in surprise. No shit. My suit is more expensive than everything in this room.

  “Logan Bennett,” I say before she opens her mouth. “I’m here to see Archer Daring.”

  “Do you have an appointment, sir?”

  “No.”

  “Then you—”

  She breaks off mid-sentence as the door to her right opens, and Archer fucking Daring himself comes out.

  “Logan Bennett, what a surprise,” he says.

  So he knows who I am. Perfect.

  “I will make this quick. I ran a background check on you and found out all about your scam business. Stay away from Nadine, or I will destroy you.”

  “You’re all talk,” he says through gritted teeth.

  “I can close your miserable stores with one phone call.”

  “Archer. . .” the secretary pleads. At least she has the decency to worry.

  “You son of a bitch,” Archer spits. “You and your family run around, thinking you own the world because you have more money than me? You think that makes you better?”

  “I never screwed anyone over. No one in my family has. That makes us better than you.” I roll my palm into fists, fighting to keep my control.

  “I screwed plenty of people, and I’m not sorry. Give me a few more weeks, and I might literally screw Nadine too. She seems stupid enough.”

  “You have a death wish.” I lose my last shreds of self-control. My punch connects with his jaw. Taken by surprise, he stumbles backward. I throw in another punch, aiming to give him a black eye, so the moron has something to remind him how stupid he is when he looks in the mirror tomorrow. He hits me back with a vengeance, and we don’t stop until the secretary steps between us, her eyes wide and fearful.

  “Mr. Bennett, please, leave,” she pleads.

  “Don’t worry, I’m done here,” I tell her. Turning to Archer, I say, “Stay away from Nadine.”

  At that, I stomp out of the office. The chilly air cools my nerves on the way to my car. Once inside, I inspect my reflection in the mirror. I bear no signs of a fight, except for my very prominent split lip. Damn it.

  When Nadine asks me about it, I’ll have to do the one thing she asked me not to: lie to her. Coupled with the bank story I still haven’t told her about, I’m treading on dangerous territory.

  Chapter Twenty

  Nadine

  “Okay, everyone, we’re done. Let’s all go home,” Ava says. We’re in the ballroom, where the show will take place tomorrow, having just wrapped up the very last rehearsal. Everyone is exhausted. Pippa tells me that they usually have the last rehearsal at least one week before the show. Since they replaced the designer with me, the schedule became even crazier.

  “I can’t believe it’s midnight,” I tell Pippa.

  She yawns as we head to the door. “I’m glad the show is tomorrow. I’ll sleep for a week afterward.”

  “Me too,” Ava says.

  “Let’s rest for a few hours tonight,” I suggest.

  We step out of the venue and find Logan propped against his car, waiting for me.

  “Someone won’t sleep tonight,” Ava tells me. She winks and leaves with Pippa.

  “How long have you been standing here?” I ask Logan.

  “Not long. Pippa texted me fifteen minutes ago that you were about to be done.”

  Stepping closer to him, I notice his lip is split. “What happened to your lip?”

  “I cut myself on a nicked glass.”

  Before I can ask anything more, Logan pulls me into a kiss. I immediately give in, opening my mouth, welcoming the possession, craving it. My body flattens against his, needing more points of contact. I always need more when it comes to Logan.

  “We won’t get very far if we continue like this,” Logan says when we pull apart.

  “We’re going somewhere?” I tilt my head up, moving my focus from his full lips to his dark eyes. “Besides home?”

  “Yep.”

  He opens the door of the car, gesturing for me to step inside.

  “Where are we going?” I ask once he’s inside too.

  “To have a little private celebration because you’re going to see your designs on a runway.”

  I yawn. “Can’t we do that tomorrow? I’m so sleepy.”

  Gunning the engine, Logan shakes his head. “No can do. You’ll be a star after tomorrow night. Everyone will want to interview you. Tonight, you’re only mine.”

  “Oh, that reminds me. I decided to throw a pseudo-opening party for the store in two days.”

  “Huh?”

  “Pippa and Ava said there will be reporters from influential magazines at the Bennett show, and that it’d be good if I threw a party right after the show and invited them.”

  “It’s a good idea,” he says thoughtfully. “But more work. Hence, more power to my argument. We need t
o celebrate tonight.”

  “So, you’re kidnapping me?” I ask coyly, curiosity overpowering my tiredness.

  He confirms it with a nod as the car speeds through downtown.

  “You still didn’t tell me where we’re going,” I remind him.

  “Now, it wouldn’t be kidnapping if I told you, would it?”

  “Okay.” I wait patiently as he drives out to the edge of the city and up one of the hills. The car comes to a halt in a curious place: a patch of woods where the lights of the city are visible in all their glory. We exit the car and sit on the hood. It’s one week before Christmas, but the weather is remarkably warm, and there is almost no wind.

  “What is this?” I ask.

  “Few people know about this place. At least, I’ve never run into anyone here. I like to come here and think. The first time, it was after Sebastian and I signed a big contract. It was the most crucial deal in our ‘go big or go home’ strategy. I made a promise to myself that no matter how things turned out, I’d always remember my roots and take care of my family. By then, I’d seen what money could do to people. It can turn them into selfish shells, or bastards. I didn’t want to be one of them.”

  He says all this while glancing at the lights in the distance. I try to gauge whether he’s sending me a message because tomorrow is my big night, but I realize he’s simply Logan. Very self-aware and grounded. I realize something else too, something even more important. He’s allowing me in, and that’s worth even more than whatever success the show will bring me tomorrow.

  “I can’t wait to bring my parents to San Francisco,” I confess. In response, he squeezes my hand, and it’s all the support and reassurance I need. “This is your special place,” I say brightly. “And you brought me here. That makes me feel special too.”

  “You are, Nadine.” Turning to me, he cups the back of my neck, bringing me inches away from his lips. “You’ve invaded every facet of my life, and I love it.”

  Logan’s mouth covers mine, his kiss a testament of both our desperation. In a haze, I sense him pushing himself over me. I let myself lie with my back against the hood of the car, my hands roaming over the taut tendons of his arms.

  “You’re mine.” His tone drips of determination. Nodding, I lean in for another kiss, but he denies me. “I want to hear you say it out loud.”

  “I’m yours. Only yours.”

  His dark eyes probe me for a few seconds, then he leans in and gives me the sweetest of kisses. Needing more of him, my fingers fist in his hair, demanding passion and relief. When we pull apart for breath, his hair is mussed, his eyes hooded. My man is incredibly sexy. On a sigh, I feel myself getting slicker.

  His hand cups between my legs over my jeans, as if saying that’s his too. I become slicker still. Arching into him, I seek the release only he can give me. His palm presses straight on my clit. I rasp out his name along with a deep, guttural moan.

  “I want you.” His low voice does dangerous and delicious things to my body. He dips his hand in his back pocket, retrieving a condom, and placing it right between my breasts. Desperate for him, I unzip his jeans, pushing them past his ass. I slip my hand in the waistband of his jeans, palming his hot and hard length.

  Logan’s breath comes out in short, fast bursts as I move my hand with urgency. He makes quick work of pushing my pants down, and there’s just our underwear between us. He kicks off his boxers, and I roll the condom over his erection. He doesn’t bother removing my thong; instead, he pushes the fabric to one side, entering me in one swift move.

  We both groan at the connection. As Logan moves in and out of me, my senses are overwhelmed by him. I hitch my legs around his waist, giving him better access. The contrast of the cold hood of the car against my ass, and his hot body over mine becomes almost too much. His thumb circles my clit, driving me crazy. Anticipation builds inside me with a vengeance, and I become insatiable.

  My nails dig in his ass as my hips move in sync with him. He fills me utterly and completely until my orgasm hits hard. I ride the wave of my climax alongside him, pulsing around him, crying out against his mouth. As he captures my pleasure, he gives me his release, wild and sweet at the same time.

  ***

  The day of the show is surreal. I wake up at five o’clock and am in a frenzy the entire day in my shop. I would’ve preferred to be at the show location, even though there’s nothing for me to do there. Pippa messaged me during breakfast, letting me know she has everything under control, and I don’t have to worry about anything. I can’t help it, though. Every time something good happened to me, it was followed up by something bad that completely obscured my happiness. The show is one of the best things ever to happen to me, and my experience has taught me that good things come at a price.

  The afternoon is unusually quiet, with only a few customers. Struggling to keep my mind from imagining scenarios of my doom, I answer my emails when the store’s empty. I leave a certain email from Archer until the very end. I was supposed to give him my answer two days ago, but it completely slipped my mind, what with the show preparations and everything. I type up a long reply, and then delete it. No, it’s best if I call him. He doesn’t pick up. Weird. He used to answer my calls after the first ring. Maybe he’s upset I haven’t called him before, but I had my reasons. I insist, and he picks up after the third try.

  “Hello, Archer. Do you have a few minutes?”

  “Make it quick.” His tone is brisk and cold, very different from his usual friendly demeanor. He is upset I didn’t call him in the time frame he gave me. Well, he’s making this easier.

  “I know I was supposed to call you and tell you my decision, but I—”

  “Your boyfriend made your decision clear.”

  “What are you talking about?” I rub the back of my neck. The skin there prickles as my stomach constricts with foreboding.

  “He made the message pretty clear when he gave me a black eye.”

  “I don’t...” My words falter as I remember Logan’s split lip. No, that must be a coincidence. Logan told me he hurt his lip on a glass. He wouldn’t lie to me. Would he? “What are you talking about?”

  “Logan attacked me yesterday. He told me to stay away from you. You can consider my offer for cooperation invalid. Don’t call me again.”

  I clutch my phone, stunned. What is going on? Archer must be lying. This can’t be happening. Logan would never lie to me.

  ***

  I arrive at the Bennett show with my heart in my throat, an hour before it’s set to begin. Pippa leads me to hair and makeup, instructing the personnel to turn me into “a star.” I’ll be wearing one of my dresses, of course, a red bandage one. When the prep team is done working their magic on me, I resemble the models who’ll be wearing my designs.

  Pippa whistles when she sees me. “Logan’ll have a heart attack when you come onto the runway with me at the end.”

  “Where is he now? I need to talk to him.”

  “No can do. The girls will start walking on the runway in five minutes.” Pippa’s exuberant smile falters. My apprehension must be visible on my face because she adds, “Is everything all right with you and Logan?”

  “No idea,” I say in a small voice.

  “Right. You can tell me all about it after the show, and I’ll help you kick my brother’s ass, but right now—”

  “How do you know I’m not the one who should have her ass kicked?” As usual, being around Pippa makes me smile.

  She puts her hands on her hips. “Call it sixth sense. Also, I know Logan. He has this excellent talent for making me want to strangle and hug him at the same time. I have a hunch you just discovered that.” Stopping one of the servers, she says, “Bring Nadine a cupcake from the buffet outside, please.” After he takes off, she winks at me. “When men mess up, cupcakes make everything better.”

  While munching on my cupcake a few minutes later, I have to admit there is some truth to Pippa’s words. She waits for me to finish, puts my plate away, an
d takes me by the shoulders.

  “This is your night. Enjoy it. You can deal with my brother later.”

  Smiling, I nod.

  Pippa and I remain backstage during the show, doing the last checks on each girl. At the end of the show, Pippa always walks out on the runway. Whenever a new designer provides the clothes for the show, he or she walks with Pippa at the end. This year, I’ll be joining her. My palms sweat just thinking about it.

  After the very last piece of jewelry is presented, Pippa takes my hand. “Ready?”

  “Not really.” I say this with a grin on my face. The atmosphere is infectious. The models are loud, laughing and joking, waiting to walk outside one last time, led by Pippa and me. Drawing in a deep breath, I announce, “Now I’m ready.”

  Praying not to stumble over my own feet, I step on the runway with Pippa by my side. The crowd erupts in applause. The deafening sound has the unexpected effect of calming my nerves. I realize I was chewing the inside of my cheek. Carefully, I put one foot in front of the other. I can’t make out any faces because the spotlight blinds me, so I wave in the general direction of the crowd, smiling brightly and whole-heartedly.

  When we return backstage, my legs begin to tremble.

  “Oh. My. God! My legs have turned to Jell-O.”

  “That’s adrenaline,” Pippa explains. “Listen, quick instructions. There will be reporters wanting to speak to you. Just be calm and be yourself.”

  “Noted.”

  “Don’t forget, there are plenty of cupcakes out there. If you feel down, grab one.”

  “Only you could give that advice with a straight face, sister.” Logan appears from behind us, taking both Pippa and me by the waist. “You two were stunning out there.”

  “This is my cue to leave before becoming a third wheel,” Pippa says. She gives me a knowing look as she leaves.

  Logan loses no time, pulling me in the now-empty hair and makeup section. Hairspray clogs the air, and breathing becomes a chore.

  “I wanted to kidnap you from that stage,” he says in a low, seductive voice. “Since we’ll both be busy with reporters tonight, I wanted to give you a quick—or not-so-quick—kiss before the mayhem begins.”