Beg for Me

by Natalie Anderson

  Never.

  Chapter Six

  #YouKnowYourFriendsLoveYouWhen

  Min stepped out of her apartment, clutching her book to her chest. Two guys leapt up from where they’d been leaning against Logan’s car.

  “Miss. Miss! What’s your name, miss! Look this way.”

  “Over here!”

  There were flashes and suddenly those men were right in front of her and she realized they weren’t that small. And they weren’t moving out of her way.

  “Tell us your name, baby,” the first one wheedled.

  “Where’d you meet him?”

  “Are you Araminta?” A third voice came from the other side of the car, sounding more mean than challenging.

  She heard a mumbled swear word from behind and suddenly Logan was at her side, his arm clamped about her shoulders as he pulled her close and started walking right at the two dudes blocking the path. “Let us past, guys.”

  “Give us a photo first. Some smiles.”

  Logan kept walking, lifting her suitcase in front of them to try to push a path through.

  “A kiss.”

  “Come on, Logan. Everyone wants to see how happy you are.”

  “A kiss.” The guy hollered again.

  “Not tonight,” Logan answered easily enough but was inexorably propelling her forward. She was pressed into his side, she wasn’t sure her feet were touching the ground.

  He somehow unlocked the car and opened the door, practically pushing her into the front passenger seat. This time Min stared at the men holding long lenses to her window rather than watch Logan sprint round the front of the car like some bank robber on the getaway.

  They’d followed them from his place—knew where she lived. And one of them had known her name?

  “They followed us,” she said as Logan fired the engine.

  “They still are.”

  “Is it always like this for you?” Shaken she turned to look at him.

  He was driving fast, but still looked relaxed. “Only sometimes.” His nose wrinkled. “I guess the Kardashians aren’t doing anything exciting tonight and they’re going for a z-lister like me. Because the machine needs feeding. It’s voracious.” He glanced over at her. “But you know that, right? You help feed it.”

  “No.” She shook her head, appalled he thought that she’d think this kind of harassment was okay. “I help people take some control of what’s out there.”

  And she so didn’t want to be a part of this. She didn’t want to be on anyone’s newsfeed.

  “It would be worse on your own.” He warned, as if he’d read her mind. “They’d still hunt you. They can make your life hell. And what random people write can make it fifty times worse.”

  “I wouldn’t read it.” She’d go offline and disappear for a while.

  He snorted. “You’re human, aren’t you?”

  He was right. It wasn’t that easy to hide. Wasn’t that easy to ignore what other people were saying about you. She knew exactly how much it could hurt.

  She should have grown a thick skin years ago, but it mattered. The opinion of others still mattered to her.

  Outside Logan’s building there was a pack of them. Definitely a slow internet-news night. Ed was waiting and pushed through to try to get them some room, but for a few alarming seconds Min couldn’t even open her car door.

  The camera flashes blinded. But the comments and questions strangled.

  They were all looking at her, all asking her questions. All wanting her to answer.

  “You don’t mind the sex tape?” Some jerk asked. “You’ve seen the sex tape?”

  “You guys gonna make another?”

  Cruder questions followed. Shocked, Min stopped, like a silly headlight-struck bunny, not knowing how to fight her way through, how to run away.

  She felt an arm hard across her back, a large, strong hand grip her upper arm hard. Logan. There was a shove from further behind. His arm tightened.

  “Ed.” Logan called harshly as he drew her closer still.

  The security man slammed the door to the building as soon as they’d entered. The sudden silence in the lobby was weird. Logan kept her clamped to his side, kept up the quick march across the marble tiled floor. The elevator doors were open and in a heartbeat she and he were alone. He released her from the tight grip and she took two more paces forward, turning to rest back against the elevator wall. Her legs wobbled. Hell, every organ inside her was shaking. All she could hear in the small space was the sound of her own breathing. Rushed, panicked.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, pushing a button so the doors slid.

  She didn’t answer him. Couldn’t. She was blocked.

  “Min?”

  She kept staring at the floor, trying not to think about the coarse words one of the guys had called out. The intensity of that crowd. There’d been no space.

  Logan moved, stepping right in front of her, his body blurring her vision.

  “You don’t have to say anything,” he muttered low. “Just look at me.”

  For a moment she closed her eyes.

  “Look at me,” he repeated, even softer.

  But somehow there was no denying that demand. She lifted her focus. He looked concerned—was that pity in his expression?

  “B-b-because you’re s-so hot?” Anger flashed, she tried to pull herself together.

  “Totally.” He answered so easily, with such damn natural arrogance, no hint of self-mockery…

  And yet. It was there in his eyes, twin flickers of laughter, willing her to join him.

  Unable to resist that invitation, she half smiled. He instantly responded, the joke deepening. A beautiful, genuine smile flashed across his face, lighting him up from the inside. Self-deprecating, kind, honest.

  It stole her breath.

  In a second it had gone, leaving the razor-sharp edges and planes of a beautiful fallen angel. The laughter ebbed, leaving the bared soul in its wake.

  An odd feeling of melancholy seeped into her, as if it were radiating from him. She had the weirdest urge to lean closer, to press her lips to his and take away that slight hint of sadness. Her gaze lowered from the intensely pale blue of his, to the wide slash of his mouth.

  Her own lips tingled. She didn’t really want to kiss him. She couldn’t really be thinking about that. Shock, right? That’s all this was. But—

  “Min?” A whisper.

  The elevator doors opened with a muted chime.

  Damn, she was going to need a louder alarm bell than that to stop her from doing something stupid. Embarrassment flooded her and she stepped sideways, out of his reach. That had been too close. She’d nearly been as easy as every other woman who’d crossed his path. She was going to have to work hard to shore up her defenses.

  Logan might have thought he was going mad, but Min’s reaction to the paparazzi pack outside confirmed he was doing the right thing. Just for a few days. She’d been terrified and he didn’t blame her. They were like savage dogs, picking out the weak spots and digging their teeth under the skin. No, ironically the safest place for her through this time was with him. He’d been through worse. He had the experience to know how to hold them at bay.

  Plus there was the fact he’d far rather spend this weekend playing the tour guide for her at Summerhill than having to actually spend time with his family.

  Plus, he was having more fun than he’d had in months. Because the heat between them?

  He grimaced as he pushed the code into his alarm system. Oh yeah, he was as self-serving as ever.

  But he froze inside his doorway. Someone was here.

  Annoyance bit, now wasn’t the time for outside interference. He needed to establish the ground rules with Min, and see if he couldn’t get her to take that one step further.

  She was attracted to him, no hiding that. He wanted the space now to see just which way she was going to dance.

  “Wait here a sec.” He quickly gave Min a small push into his office that was through the
first door off to the right. Then called out. “Who is it?”

  “Finally, you’re home.” Rocco’s voice answered from the living room. “There was me thinking you were going to be my wingman at the pyjama party tonight but instead you’ve gone and gotten engaged.”

  Logan sighed as he strolled down the hallway. “How did you get in?”

  “Walked through the walls.” Rocco rounded the corner, looking both curious and insistent.

  “Give.” Logan held out his hand. He wasn’t in the mood.

  “Seriously?” Rocco looked surprised.

  “Now.”

  Rocco smacked the keys into Logan’s hand. “You’ve finally shaved off that hideous beard.”

  “Had to for that photo shoot today.”

  “Thank God, thought you were going all Deliverance on us for a while there. But it seems you were being secretive instead. Going for the disguise while courting your fiancée. Where is she?”

  “You’re not seeing her. Go away.”

  “Seriously Logan, you can’t get away with this without telling all.”

  “I’m a guy. We don’t talk, we do.”

  “So let me meet what you’ve been doing.” Rocco said.

  “Watch it.” Logan glared at him.

  Rocco grinned. “Protective? You’re kidding me.”

  “I’m not getting away with anything. This is legit. Now leave us alone.”

  “You can’t be ser—”

  “Leave. Now.”

  “She’s here?” Rocco angled his head and looked beyond Logan who’d been doing his best impersonation of a road block. “You’re Araminta?” Rocco’s focus narrowed.

  Logan rolled his eyes and swung to face her. Typical that she’d not stayed where he wanted her to. Instead she was walking down the wide hallway towards them. But he saw the slight movement of her throat as she swallowed and couldn’t help tensing slightly.

  “I’m Min,” she spoke low and slow and with a smile. “You’re Rocco.”

  Easing in one way, and fully going hard in another, Logan glanced back in time to see Rocco’s jaw drop. Yeah, the sultry whispery voice had that effect. Not that she did it for that reason, Logan figured that the ‘voice’ only came on when she was feeling uncertain. When she was afraid she’d stutter. It was all a strategy.

  But she had no idea of the different ways in which it worked.

  Logan glared at Rocco, despite the fact his friend wasn’t looking at him to notice. No, Rocco was too busy staring at the dishevelled bit of gorgeous that was Min—even with the stains and the loosening braid. She was all wide eyes and fair skin and freckles, her body slim but round in the right places. Soft and sweet, the kind of body a man wanted to sink his teeth into.

  Yeah, he knew exactly what Rocco was thinking.

  “Time to go.” He snapped at Rocco, biting back the string of cuss words crowding into his mouth.

  Rocco turned and stared at him. “But I haven’t—”

  “Too bad, time to go.” Logan resorted to physical and gave Rocco a shove. “Don’t you know its bad form to interrupt a newly engaged couple? We have a private celebration planned.”

  “Since when were you into private?” Rocco said drily, walking backwards, past Min, all the way to the door as Logan advanced in a more menacing fashion. “And I know nothing of engaged couple protocol. Don’t want to.”

  “Then take your heathen ass elsewhere.” Logan meant it. And as Rocco’s expression tightened, he knew his friend had finally gotten that message.

  Min remained in the middle of the hallway, unable to look away as Rocco stopped walking, his back right against the door. He stared at Logan, like there was some kind of silent communication happening between the two men. Then Rocco leaned his head enough to catch Min’s eye. “Nice to meet you Min. Truly a pleasure.”

  Min just smiled weakly, her throat felt crazy clogged again.

  “I hope you know what the fuck you’re doing.” Rocco’s harsh words to Logan could be heard right across the room regardless of the way he’d whispered them as Logan opened the door. “She’s not—”

  “Talk tomorrow.” Logan shut the door and flicked the bolt with a resounding, final click.

  Min cemented her smile in place as Logan turned back to face her. So he’d been going to a party tonight, had he? Going to hit the town with his partner-in-crime and slay his way through another few women? Add a couple more notches to the bedpost that was probably in danger of crumbling to dust.

  There was one thing she really needed to make clear. Again. Especially after seeing his friends and knowing what Logan’s original plan for the evening had been. Especially after that near moment in the elevator just then.

  But before she could speak he stalked up to within an inch of her, energized. “I’ll show you round the rest of the apartment.”

  Min held her breath then released it as he took the slightest of steps to the side, his body almost brushing hers as he passed her. That almost-touch was deliberate and she had to deal to it. Nothing was happening between them, she’d ensure it.

  Min slowly followed, thinking up her defense strategy as he lead her into the more private part of his home. But then she turned into the doorway he stood by. She pressed her lips together to stifle her gasp.

  Who could afford this kind of space in the middle of Manhattan? The room was huge—all white and gleaming and totally minimalist. It was undeniably stylish and serene. She walked into the center of the room, slowly circling with an assessing eye, noting the few well-placed paintings but it was the occasional sculpture on the low tables that really caught her attention. It seemed he liked glass blown into beautiful curves, with sublime color somehow spun inside. She liked them too. Each piece was perfect. And though there were no personal photos adorning the room, that choice of art somehow seemed intimate.

  “What are you thinking?” He leaned against the wall just inside the door, arms crossed, watching her.

  “I’m deciding which of your personal items I’m going to sell on EBay when you’re not looking.” She sent him a saccharine smile. “You sure you still want me to stay here?”

  “I’m sure.” He lifted away from the wall and walked towards her. “I should warn you I’m planning to keep a very close eye on you.”

  She turned her back on him as he advanced, failing the first rule of combat. But seriously, his eyes were lethal weapons. And so much for thinking she could unnerve him.

  “So is this it?” she asked in a bored tone. “You have a f-f-fold away bed in the corner?”

  “No,” Laughter tinged his answer. “This is only the beginning.”

  If that were true she was going to have to really pull out her acting moves to cover up her gauche overwhelmed reaction to such an apartment.

  And act she did—nonchalant and unimpressed—as he lead her through to the large stainless steel and black marble kitchen, yet more marble in the guest bathroom. Then the series of bedrooms. She remained mute, not trusting the catch in her throat. No wonder the guy thought he could get away with anything. He owned the world up here. He moved into the sleeping quarters. One guest bedroom, them another, then another. Then finally—

  “This is my bedroom,” he said.

  Was it her or did his voice sound a little huskier?

  “Great.” She broke her silence briskly, not bothering to even glance at it. She didn’t want to see the scene of all his conquests, but more than that she didn’t want to be thinking about beds. Bed made her think of sex and she was overheated already. The entire apartment seemed to be set on a higher than average temperature—it was the aircon, right? Not just her body going out of whack.

  “And this is your room.” He didn’t hide his chuckle.

  Min peeked through the doorway. ‘Her’ room was right next door to his. Big problem. She wouldn’t be surprised if one of those doors in there interconnected with his room.

  She frowned.

  “What’s wrong?” he goaded gently. “You don’t like it?”


  What was not to like about that giant bed with its pure cotton coverings and mountain of pillows and cushions and the thick curtains that would guarantee total blackout? It was designed for peace and rest, something she found oddly surprising. The bitch in her had thought he’d be all mirrors and fancy lighting and a treasure chest of sex toys in each room as if his apartment was really some kind of bordello. Instead he was way more human than that—multi-faceted. And frankly, that made her uncomfortable. It was easier to paint him as the wicked Lothario.

  “Well,” She cleared her throat and tried to quell her sudden nerves. She was modern woman, dammit, in control of her own destiny. “I think we need to establish a couple of ground rules.”

  “Oh?”

  She just had to come out with it. “For the two days or whatever that this ridiculous engagement stands, there’ll be no other women. None.”

  His lips twitched. “You don’t need to tell me that.”

  “Are you serious? Of course I do.” He’d been toying with her since the moment they’d met. “If this were for real I’d have you sign the contract in blood. But let me tell you, there will be blood shed if you let me d-d-down on this.”

  He leaned a shoulder against the hall wall and eyed her. “Someone hurt you sometime?”

  Oh she wasn’t going there. “If we’re redeeming your reputation, we’re doing it for real.”

  “We’re doing everything for real?” His eyebrows flickered.

  “You can’t help yourself can you? Always it comes back to sex. You’re an addict.”

  He didn’t answer. This time his expression didn’t alter at all. Yet she felt as if she’d let him down somehow. Which was so dumb. But for once Min felt compelled to fill the conversation gap. “I don’t want to be publicly humiliated.” Been there, done that, and it so sucked.

  “What does it matter what anyone thinks of you?” Logan stepped away from the wall. “You can’t let someone else’s opinion stop you from what you want to do.”

  “So its just ‘opinion’ on whether something is right or wrong?” She simmered with annoyance again.