Walk quick? She was half running to keep up with him. He checked his pace for a second and put his arm around her waist, hauling her close before resuming the hundred meter sprint. Practically carrying her.
Two paces ahead of them Ed strode fast. The glass doors to the building opened. There was a volley of noise. Min was too busy watching the path and trying not to enjoy the sensation of Logan pressed so close against her side, to look up at the calls and see who was speaking. Ed quickly opened the front passenger door. Blinking at the speed of it all Min felt a strong hand on her back, pushing her into the car and the chill as Logan stepped away from her. The door was slammed after her in a flash of a second. Wide-eyed she watched Logan stride round the front of the car and get in, putting his foot to the accelerator.
The wheels squealed as he abruptly pulled away. She let out the breath she’d been inadvertently holding and glanced to see a couple of guys running down the sidewalk. One held up a camera. She quickly looked away—studying Logan instead.
“You drive yourself?” she commented with mock amazement, trying to recover her cool after that manic-yet-intimate dash to the car.
“I don’t need someone to do everything for me,” he replied lazily, but she saw his alert look into the rear vision mirrors.
She glanced into the side mirror and saw a guy on a motorbike weaving in and out of the cars behind them. No way.
She remembered his harsh question about what was going to happen... Do you have any idea?
She swallowed. She had to go back to her game plan of gently needling him. She’d keep him at a distance—physical, mental, emotional. Annoy him enough for him to jilt her as soon as possibly.
“No? You don’t need someone?” She went through a little catalog. “Tweet for you, cook for you, clean for you…”
“I have people to do the menial things, yes. Because my time is more profitably spent on other stuff.”
Like modeling and playing waterpolo with his equally hedonistic buddies? She so knew his schedule and really, it wasn’t any great use of time. He wasn’t out there brokering world peace or feeding the nation’s homeless.
“I’m so honored you’ve broken into your valuable time to escort me to my home.” Now it was amazingly easy to speak with her whispery accent, like she were some doe-eyed secret-vixen-starlet. For the first time in her life she actually found it fun.
He sent her a sideways glance, his lips twitching. “I didn’t want my driver to overhear our conversation. I trust my men, but I can’t say the same for you.”
“Just one little mistake and I’m unforgiven?” she asked with mock dismay.
“It wasn’t a little mistake,” he said drily. “You’ve ruined my life.”
Ha. She snorted. “Being seen to make a commitment has ruined your life?” She shook her head. “Is it so bad for your playboy image? It’s your fault anyway. Dragging me to your apartment only compounded the problem. If I hadn’t been photographed coming into it, I wouldn’t have been labelled your victim.”
He grinned. “I love the way you whisper insults in such a sultry manner. It’s arousing.”
She snapped her head round to glare at him. “My intention is n-n-not to arouse you. Ever.”
He continued to look ahead, driving confidently in that annoyingly relaxed manner. “Too bad, you already have. You did the second you walked into my apartment.”
His casual declaration stole her breath. No way did he mean it—except her body decided he did. And that it was agreeing wholeheatedly—so ready to accept. Desperately she tried to think of a way to cool it and push him away. “Are you sexually harassing me again, Mr Hughes?”
“Logan. And I’m your fiancé so I’m allowed to be sexual now. And as I said before, I’m only being honest. Are you honest?”
“I prefer to be appropriate. And I’m your fake fiancée for a limited time only.”
“Ah, appropriate,” he echoed with a nod. “You like to give the correct response in the right situation, is that it? Like to have your life all nice and neat.” He glanced at her. “No room for error.”
She stared at him, vaguely uncomfortable with his pat summary of her. Because he might be a little bit right.
“You fucked up today Araminta, are you prepared to face the consequences?”
She flinched at the harsh word. At his use of her full name. At the spurt of heat that burst low in her belly at the thought of him meting out some kind of consequence.
She clenched down on her unruly hormones. “Getting fake engaged to you isn’t an appropriate punishment.”
A quick frown pulled his features before he smiled. “Not a punishment at all.”
Oh that would be right. He saw himself as God’s greatest gift to womankind, didn’t he? The ultimate lover.
“So how is it going to end?” she asked, bitterness surging. “I’m going to be h-h-humiliated when you publicly cheat on me? I then walk out on you?”
“We can flip it and have you cheat on me if you’d prefer.”
No she would not. She glowered at him.
“Didn’t you say there’s a client waiting on you?” He smiled at her innocently and changed the topic. “You don’t need to make a call? Might as well, we’ve got a twenty minute drive ahead of us.”
Oh shit. Blake. She’d forgotten him again? She did deserve to lose his business. Min grabbed her jacket and felt in the pocket for her phone. She stared in amazement at the time on the screen when it lit up. How could it only be a couple hours since she’d sent that stupid tweet? How could her life have gone so insane so quickly? The next second she heard the ping of an incoming message. But she’d only one call from Blake. No doubt he was wondering where the hell his celebratory tweet was. Naturally, her stupid throat tightened. A split-second vision of her answering the phone and being unable to say anything flashed in her mind. Like a crank call in reverse, she’d be the heavy-breathing weirdo. For that to happen while sitting in a car, too close to Logan Hughes? She had to have done something horrible in a past life to be facing this humiliation.
You can handle it.
She’d learned good strategies. Most of the time they worked. She no longer faced the awkwardness every single day the way she had only a year or so ago.
Relax. Smile. Speak easy.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch sooner,” she spoke softly as soon as Blake answered. “I haven’t been able to post about your news yet because—”
“Yeah I saw that. That’s okay. We got a little, uh, distracted.”
Oh boy. At least someone in the world was getting some sex. “I’ve been thinking about a different strategy. It’s not peak traffic on Twitter at this time.” She just made that one up and hoped he wouldn’t ask for the research figures to back it up. “We want to have maximum impact for the announcement, right?”
“Uh, I guess.”
Min felt bad. Poor guy just wanted to shout it to the world, which was so sweet and should be so happy and here she was screwing things round. “Have you bought her an engagement ring yet?” She could retrieve this. She could.
“I had one designed.”
“Brilliant. I knew you would have.” Blake was the kind of guy who’d put thought into what he did for his fiancée. The kind who’d walk over hot coals for his woman. “What do you think about announcing it with just a picture of the ring? Or if you have some of the original design sketches, we could upload those—one at a time. Space them out over an hour or so and get people guessing.”
“Okaaaay.”
“A series of tweets showing the development of the ring, and then a few hints about the actual proposal... could be so romantic.”
“Yeah... Yeah.” He bought into the idea with more enthusiasm.
Min smiled, spoke quickly and easily as relief calmed her. “Text me the name of the jewelry designer and I’ll get it fixed. Meantime you guys go and have your own private celebration.”
“We are.” He suddenly laughed.
“Oh I
don’t want to know.” Laughing she rang off.
“Nice save.” Logan said. “I don’t think you’re going to have any trouble thinking your way out of any awkward situations in the next few weeks.” He pulled over. “Let’s get your stuff and get out of here before they’re onto us.”
She stared out the window at her building. They’d gotten here super quick and she hadn’t even had to give him any directions. Map nerd or tech geek?
“I looked it up before we left my place,” he answered her unspoken question.
Logan grinned as he stayed a pace behind Min as she stalked her way into the ugly apartment building. She exuded energy. And that braid? He so wanted to undo it. See her undone.
And listening to her just then, made him certain he’d been right to push this. He wasn’t up for destroying someone’s dream job, hell, he made a business of financially supporting interesting baby enterprises. He liked enabling people to chase their dreams because he knew how much it sucked to be blocked from going for them.
And people who started up their own businesses tended to be passionate. He bet Min was passionate.
“Wait here,” she said baldly and walked through the door to the bedroom.
He stared around the living room. It was worse than he’d expected. Small, unattractive, horribly furnished, right next to some massive construction site so it was messy and noisy like you wouldn’t believe. Worst of all, it was cold. Logan hated being cold and in this damp room his breath clouded in front of him. Shit. He didn’t like the idea of her working away here all night and day, freezing and lonely. No one should live in such an under-heated pit. Yep, crazy as it was, this engagement was a good idea at least for a week or so. The six months thing had been pure tease. He supposed he’d confess that soon enough.
As for telling her about the upcoming weekend away? He glanced around the frigid room again. Yeah. He didn’t think she was going to complain too much about going to an exclusive resort for a few nights.
At the back of the sofa he spotted the slippers. He picked one up to study the horror more closely. He bent and retrieved the other. Oh they just had to come—more tease fodder.
He walked over to her desk and studied the monstrosity sitting on the top of it.
“You call this a computer?” He called out to her. There were piles of stuff all over the desk and around the massive machine. Talk about clutter and chaos. But he noted the empty cracker box and soda can, mentally filing away the potentially useful flavor information. He laughed at himself as he did, he’d been hanging round Xander and Hunter too long.
“Well yeah, what do you call it?” She called back, sounding pissed.
Good. He liked it when she got a little lippy at him. So much better than the scared look he’d seen a couple too many times for comfort.
“A fossil. You can’t carry that thing out of there. It’s like Sputnik.”
He picked up the ice-cream carton near the keyboard and lifted off the lid. His body tightened. This was it, the source of her edible, sweet scent. He read the label and put it back down.
She reappeared wheeling a suitcase behind her, her cheeks slightly flushed like she’d been in a hurry. The pink suited her.
“It’s not that big.” She frowned at him.
Well no, not big in a good, million pixels screen big. He shook his head. “You can use my computer.”
“You can’t bear to have a gadget less than a six months old in your presence?”
“Actually, I quite like retro,” he said loftily. “But that’s just garbage. I won’t put it in my car.” There was a hell of a lot of garbage in this place.
“Then I’m not coming with you.”
“Yes, you’re coming,” he said sending her a pointed look. He had to bite down on both his smile and the urge to set about making her come here and now. His body was tight and jumpy. He ached to haul her to him—feel those curves pressing close.
It had been too long. And it was so, so wrong.
Her eyes widened. He realized the silence between them had become epic, and he was staring at her like he was a blind man granted vision for only a minute and he was drinking in the most beautiful memory.
Shit. It really had been way too long.
“That computer might look old.” She suddenly moved forward, her gaze lowering. “But it’s been totally rebuilt on in the inside. It’s faster than any of your gleaming shit.”
“Looks are deceptive, huh?” He glanced down at her old clothes and then waved her ugly slippers at her. “Good to know.”
Abruptly she turned away and picked up a school exercise book from underneath the keyboard. He felt disappointed that she hadn’t risen to his challenge. Then he read the large block letting on the front of the book with growing horror.
PASSWORDS.
Seriously? Hunter would have a fit.
“I didn’t think you were supposed to write passwords down,” he commented, once more unable to resist the urge to bait her.
She rolled her eyes. “You clearly don’t think at all.”
He chuckled, pleased that she’d bitten back this time. “I can’t help it, it’s the model in me.”
“All beauty and brawn, no brain?”
“So it would seem. I take it you’re not impressed by my modeling.” He sure wasn’t. But today’s exercise in agony was the last photo shoot. It was time for the professionals to take over.
The active-wear company had been his brainchild after the accident that had ended his skiing. The accident that in many ways he was glad off. He’d finally gotten away. The business had been something to put his time, energy and yes, money into. He’d needed to do something that would help support Connor, but that he could do miles away from Summerhill itself. “You think it’s vain of me?”
“No. I understand why you do it, for the business. You’re the b-brand. The lifestyle. ‘Buy my clothes and you can be like me’,” she said in that soft voice.
“And that’s a bad thing?” he queried. Her disapproval was far too thinly veiled and annoyed him more than it should.
“I imagine lots of young m-m-men would like to be like you.”
He turned away but she must have caught his grimace because she followed him.
“You don’t like being you?” she asked.
Her green eyes were too cool. Too piercing and he wasn’t admitting to anything.
“My life is amazing,” he said blandly. “I have no complaints.”
“So why push this ridiculous engagement then? If you’re not embarrassed.”
“Stop trying to make me change my mind, it isn’t going to work. In fact...” he turned and looked at her, amusement and attraction thrumming through his veins. It felt good. He felt good for the first time in months. “The more you talk, the more convinced I am this is the best course of action.”
“This isn’t going to limit your lifestyle?” she asked, a whisper again.
He knew what she meant. Other women. She had no idea he’d been off the boil for a while. And he wasn’t about to tell her. He liked teasing her too much. “Why should it?”
She sent him a foul look and he laughed. “I’m happy to be ‘off the market’ for a while.”
“I didn’t think you were on the market—not for real. You’re more of a toy, aren’t you?”
“I’d be careful if I were you.” He walked up to her, had to get close. “You might find out how dangerous a ‘toy’ like me might be.”
Her eyes widened. The pink in her cheeks deepened. But she held her ground. He smiled. He could feel the sparks shooting between them, it was a wonder he couldn’t see them. He was sure she was aware of it as he. At the very least he was going to have to make her admit to this attraction.
“You play games in every aspect of your life?” she asked. “You like to take risks?”
Oh yeah, she was very aware of the pull between them.
He took another slow step closer. “I’m decisive.”
“And you never concede a mistake?
”
“I make mistakes.” So many. He was probably making one now. “But I refuse to regret them.”
“And you find that easy?”
Logan stared at Min. His progression towards her halted. How had she done that—flipped this from the beginnings of let’s-get-busy flirt, to a serious, pointed, personal question that struck too close to the bone? One he couldn’t answer glibly.
Because, no. It wasn’t easy. He didn’t like the lump of ice carving into his heart. He didn’t like to remember he had a heart. What he was best at, was teasing fun and taking risks. At keeping things playful.
“You really don’t think you like me.” He deliberately spoke as softly as she did.
“I don’t think?” Her brows shot high.
“You don’t know me well enough to form an opinion yet.”
“I know you’re arrogant, spontaneous, demanding.”
True. “Surely all good things.”
“A fantasist,” she added quickly. “An egotistical idiot who thinks of no one but himself.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not insisting on this engagement for myself.”
She took a step closer in surprise. “You’re doing it for me?”
“Partly,” he nodded. “So some gratitude might be nice. If I tell the truth, let the world know how badly you’ve screwed up, then your business is dead in the water. I’m protecting you. And I’m protecting my family from further embarrassment.”
“You care about your family?” She looked diverted.
He hesitated. Hot damn, she was persistent with the personal. He turned away and picked up her bag. “I care about my brother and sister.”
“But not your parents?”
Logan didn’t answer the question. “You’ll have to use my shiny, crappy computer. You forgot to mention that I’d need a truck to get yours out.”
“Fine,” she answered, way too meekly for comfort.
He followed her out of her apartment, happily slamming the door behind them and trudging slowly down the stairs. How the hell had they gotten to talking about his frigging family? He never discussed them—not beyond a brief upsell of the resort if he had to. But anything personal about them?
Beg for Me Page 6
