by Nicole Fox
She had to shake herself to get away from the heated memories of Logan’s body so close to hers. Turning on her heel, she headed into the kitchen, mostly because she needed some coffee, but also to keep her eyes off of Logan’s beautiful body for just a few moments.
“I am a wealthy woman in the public eye, Logan. I can’t have my bodyguard assaulting people for insulting me. I’m constantly insulted. There are entire Reddit and Facebook groups devoted to how much I suck and how I should go die,” she said, putting fresh beans into the coffee grinder. She slammed the lid on a little harder than she meant to in her anger. “Insults aren’t why you’re here.”
Logan followed her into the kitchen, a silent shadow.
“You’re here to make Davis jealous enough to beg for me to come back to him. There is a lot of money on the line here, and I refuse to lose this bet.” When Francesca turned back to Logan, she saw his mouth twisted in surprise. “Did I not tell you about the bet?”
The blank look in his pretty, chocolate eyes was answer enough.
“Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I need Davis to come back to me, and I need to remember that you are here for that and that alone. Okay?” The coffee began to brew, filling her white-on-white kitchen with the beautiful scent. There were only two things in the world that made Francesca happy: the color white and the scent of freshly-brewed coffee. And that made her kitchen one of her favorite places in the whole world. Paula, the maid who looked after her home, had a way with keeping the whites as white as possible, no matter what Francesca spilled or tracked into the house. She was a blessing.
“I’m sorry, Francesca,” Logan said, looking sincere. “I don’t know what came over me.” Looking a bit like a puppy that was just kicked by an owner, Logan disappeared up the stairs and into “his” room, closing the door behind him with a click.
Francesca watched him leave, enjoying the view, reliving the scene at the front door again in her mind. “It was sort of hot the way he jumped to my defense like I was a lady and he was my knight in shining armor.” But that sort of behavior couldn’t continue. Logan wasn’t her knight, and his possessiveness was a little weird. They barely knew each other!
Sighing, Francesca poured some of the coffee into her favorite mug and poured in some cream. The milk swirled into her coffee like clouds, lightning the black brew until it was just the perfect shade of mocha brown. Just like Logan’s eyes.
Frowning, Francesca pushed that thought away, taking a big sip of her brew. “No, I have to keep my eye on the prize. And the prize is not Logan. It’s Davis. I can’t let Logan, no matter how pretty his eyes are or how amazing his ass looks in that suit, get in the way of my mission.”
And with that, Francesca settled down in front of the TV. For a few moments, she wanted to forget Davis, forget the sexy man just upstairs, and forget the demands of her mother and her show. And some mindless TV was the perfect cure.
Chapter Ten
Logan
Mostly to keep up appearances, Francesca had a state-of-the-art security system installed at her beautiful, white mansion in the desert. Once again, Logan found himself absolutely stunned at the flagrant way Francesca has of just tossed money around like it was nothing. It still shook him up that someone could have so much that they didn’t check the price of anything they bought. Cars, jewelry, clothing, security systems; no matter the cost, it didn’t seem to even put a dent in her bank account. Not to mention the exorbitant fees she was paying him to pretty much sit around and look “mean and sexy.”
“I guess this is how pretty trophy wives feel.” He thought darkly, sitting in front of the monitors. The new security system was absolutely the most high tech thing he’d ever seen, and he mostly fumbled around with the buttons for fun more than having an actual goal in mind.
There were three cameras focused on the front of the house; one showed the street immediately in front while the other two pointed at the driveway. After a second of fumbling, Logan managed to get the street view to pop up on the TV screen attached to the system, watching to see how often cars actually drove by this little patch of desert. He was a little surprised at the sheer amount of traffic coming through this lightly populated part of town, but perhaps he shouldn’t have been. There were quite a number of other mini-mansions on this strip of land, and he doubted most of the owners made do with one or two household helpers like Francesca did.
More than likely, most of these people have whole sets of staff devoted to them.
As he watched, a police vehicle drove by the house, not even slowing as it crossed in front of Francesca’s house. Even so, his heart skipped a beat in his chest. “If the cops ever stop in here for me, what will I do?”
Sighing, Logan turned away from the screens, his head spinning. Half of him is sure he’d just be able to leave, roll right out of here and down to San Diego without a glance backward. But the other half of him wasn’t sure.
“I’m getting too tangled up in a woman I’ll never have.” Visions of Francesca slipped across his mind. Knowing when he left here, she would be wrapped in the asshole Davis’s arms made him want to put his fist through the TV screen. What was it about Francesca that made him so crazy?
He walked away from the security system, trying not to think too hard about Francesca and utterly failing.
# # #
Francesca
Much to her delight, Francesca found herself in Logan’s arms again. Rippling muscles wrapped close, her heart thundering in her chest. Warm bodies, skin-on-skin contact. Beautiful chocolate eyes heated her whole body up from the tips of her toes to her scalp, sending delightful little shivers over every inch of her. A moan, a kiss, the press of tongues. A whisper, “I want to be inside of you, Francesca.” The voice filled with lust. And then the sound of Francesca begging, pleading for him to merge with her, just this once…
When she woke, Francesca had to fight her way out of her tangle of blankets and sheets. She could feel her thighs throbbing in time with her heartbeat, her underwear soaked after her racy dreams.
And much to her delight, Logan was pictured front and center in those dreams. “He’s so hot. If I was anyone else, I would have tackled him to the floor by now.” Sighing through her nose, Francesca ran her fingers through her tangled hair. “But I’m not anyone. I’m Francesca Savoy, and I play by the rules. No matter how much I hate them sometimes.”
Shaking herself, Francesca realized what she had been thinking and cursed herself. “This isn’t helping, Francesca,” she told herself in the huge mirror across the room from her bed. “Logan isn’t the prize here. Davis and your pride are the prizes.” Francesca forced herself to get out of bed, discarded her pajamas and hopped into the shower. A very cold shower. She hoped the icy water would wash away her dreams and ready her for a new day.
Standing up straight, she looked into her reflection’s eyes. “Alright, Francesca. You got this. You’re going to get Davis to crawl to you like your mother wants, and you’re going to be happy.”
Repeating the word “happy” over and over to herself like a mantra, Francesca skipped down the stairs, bounding into the kitchen to get herself a cup of coffee.
She stopped at the foot of the stairs, her eyes going wide and her heart turning to ice inside of her chest. On the counters, there were three, huge vases full of white roses, each one tied in a gold ribbon. The flowers blended seamlessly with the kitchen; even the vases were white with gold leaf. They were perfect.
And there was only one person in the world who would have sent them.
Francesca picked up the card in shaking fingers, unsurprised to see Davis’s name.
Babe:
I’m sorry for what I said yesterday. I was jealous. Please forgive me.
Davis
Francesca cringed, unable to feel anything but ill at the sight of the present. “Odd, before, something like this would have made me happy.” Tears pricked the edges of her eyes, and she had to swallow hard around the lump that formed in her throat. “So
if you don’t want Davis, what do you want?” she asked herself, pretty sure she didn’t want to know the answer.
“No, you want Davis back. That’s what’s best for the show and your family.”
Sighing, Francesca was pretty sure Logan wouldn’t like the flowers one bit. He’d know who sent them immediately, too. Glancing down at the counter, she noticed another little gift for her; it was a little red box with a ribbon around it, containing a gold and diamond tennis bracelet. It was ugly, but then Davis’s taste in jewelry had always been a little too austere for her. The bracelet was a little simpler than what she would have picked for herself. “But it’s the thought that counts,” she thought, but even that seemed to fall flat. “You think after months together, he would have picked up on the type of jewelry I liked to wear.”
But perhaps that was asking too much of anyone who didn’t care much for jewelry; Davis never wore it himself and would hardly know the difference between a tennis bracelet and a bangle.
Glancing around at the flowers and the bracelet, Francesca frowned, then tossed the card into the garbage and the bracelet into one of the kitchen drawers. “Perhaps I can play it off like I got them for myself. When Logan learns they are from Davis, he might think his work done and just leave. I have to keep him from thinking I’ve won.”
“I really don’t want him to leave.” That thought filled her with a little more worry than she wanted to admit to anyone. Even herself.
Chapter Eleven
Logan
Logan had a bad feeling about this “meeting” from the very start.
When Francesca called him downstairs into her kitchen for a serious sit-down, Logan could feel the tension in his shoulders building. He hadn’t missed the flowers delivered that morning, nor did he have any delusions on who sent them. He wasn’t stupid; he could see that the flowers, which were very beautiful and matched her obsession with the color white, didn’t make her as happy as she thought she should be.
“We need to start working harder to ensure that I get Davis groveling and back to me as soon as possible. This,” she waved her hand dismissively at the roses, “is a good start. He’s missing me, but he isn’t begging. I need him to beg before I take him back. I need him to be depressed and realize what he’s missing, or else nothing will even change. I won’t have him cheat twice, so he needs to remember how much he used to love me.”
Tapping her chin with a manicured finger, Francesca pursed her perfect lips, drawing Logan’s attention. The cupid’s bow of her lips was the perfect shape; they always looked like she was aching for a kiss. And that warmed Logan’s blood in ways he didn’t want to admit out loud.
“So, we need to have to seen with me in public more often. That TMZ interview will come out tomorrow, and I want that same kind of energy for our next outing.”
Logan growled in the back of his throat. “I think that’s a little too subtle for your airhead ex, Francesca.” He was frowning, remembering how much he’d wanted to strangle the guy the night before. “We need to be seen as a couple, or else he’ll never take me as a serious threat.” Standing, Logan starts to collect the flowers. “We should also throw these away in a way that can be seen from the street. If he drives by, it will make it absolutely obvious you’re over him and have moved on.”
Gasping, Francesca ran the tips of her fingers over some of the soft, beautiful roses in front of her. “But they are so pretty.”
“Do you want to win this bet and your idiot ex back or not?” Piece turned his burning brown eyes to her emerald ones, getting caught up her in gaze. It was hard to break away from those beautiful eyes, but he managed, turning to pick up two of the vases and taking them out to the trash.
Francesca said nothing, though she pouted adorably when he took the rest of the roses out too, positioning the can so the roses could be seen from the street. Logan took a wicked kind of glee at throwing Davis’s money away, even though this sort of display probably didn’t even register to someone with his kind of money. He really hoped that spoiled little brat would drive by and see those wilting white blooms sticking their heads out of the trash by the street.
She stood on the front porch and watched him, frowning as he headed back toward the house. “I hope this works,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Those were the prettiest white roses I’ve ever seen.”
Filled with disbelief, Logan gestured around the house. “So why don’t you just buy yourself some? You don’t have to wait for some asshole to purchase them for you. You literally have half the world eating out of your palm and you’re the wealthiest person I’ve ever met; you deserve to be able to buy yourself flowers without Davis having to do it for you.”
Francesca stared at him, her mouth opening and closing a few times, like she couldn’t quite come up with a reply.
“I- I guess you’re right.” But she didn’t quite sound convinced. What else could he say to convince her? He went back inside past her, irritated with this whole situation. How could she be so blind? Francesca was not the kind of woman who needed her mother or Davis to make her world a perfect place. She had that kind of power all by herself.
But Francesca was the type of girl who could only play by the rules. And Logan, no matter how sound his advice might seem, was just a guy who broke them.
He had to remind himself again that he wasn’t here to actually become part of Francesca’s life. He was just here for the money.
Just here for the money. Maybe if he said it to himself enough, he would start to believe it.
# # #
Francesca
Feeling a little awkward, Francesca could do nothing but watch as Logan tossed all of those lovely roses. She mourned their loss, not because of who sent them, but merely because they were so beautiful. They looked like they belonged in her kitchen, and she didn’t really want to part with them. Why couldn’t he have thrown out the ugly tennis bracelet instead?
“It’s for a good cause,” she told herself again. But every day that went by without Davis by her side, it seemed like less and less of good cause. She didn’t want him anymore. But she needed him.
Confused and unhappy, she stood on the porch, trying to ignore Logan as he took out the last of the pretty flowers to the trash.
After washing his hands in the kitchen sink like a barbarian, Logan turned back to Francesca, his eyes locked on her face. The sudden scrutiny made her a little uncomfortable, even as it lit all sorts of fires down low in her belly. What was he staring at so intently?
“So, why are you doing this?” he asked, finally, his voice void of emotion.
“To get Davis back,” she said, almost automatically.
Logan narrowed his chocolate eyes at her, making her squirm a little in her seat. But she refused to back down. “Do you even want Davis back?”
Francesca laughed. “Of course not! But it’s the right thing to do. He’s stable and photogenic. You know, for the show. He’s good for my career. He’s good for TV. We polled a bunch of people, and they loved him.”
Looking flabbergasted, Logan just stared at her for a long moment. Finally, he said, “Are you trying to find a boyfriend or are you looking for an employee? Because it’s starting to sound like you don’t even know what a lover is supposed to be like.”
There was a kind of standoff in the kitchen for a moment, Francesca being stubborn and Logan following suit. They stared each other down, brows furrowing and tempers flaring, until Francesca looked away, sighing and putting her face down into her hands. “I know what it looks like. And I hate him for what he did to me and my best friend. You know he lied to her to get her in bed with him?”
Logan made a noise like a growl in the back of his throat as he poured himself a cup of coffee from the machine. He poured a little of the creamer in, sipping it without even stirring it, like the barbarian he was.
“I no longer enjoy going to work. I no longer have the drive that I used to have for Diamond Savoy Couture. It was, up until Davis cheated on me, my whole life.
And now, it feels — ” She hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath. Taking her face out of her hands, she looked up at him, feeling tears fill the edges of her eyes. “It feels empty.
“I’m trying to patch things up with Nikk, but it all feels empty.” The word seemed to explain everything she had felt since she walked in on the two of them having sex. Although the void had temporarily been filled with the anger, desire for vengeance, or despair at points, the fact was that Davis had left a hole in her. A hole she’d been desperately trying to fill. But Davis was the only thing that seemed to be the right-shaped puzzle piece to put her life back together.
Francesca got up from her seat, her feet carrying her back and forth over the white tile of the kitchen floor. Logan watched her every step, a bird of prey waiting for his chance to swoop in and make the kill. “I have to think about the family and the TV show and my store. And Davis is the best person to fill the void. He is what we need — ”
