His Fantasy Girl

by Nina Croft

  She should step back now before it was too late.

  He switched off the engine, jumped out, then came around and opened the door. The small courtesy surprised her, but she clambered down. After what they’d shared, she didn’t know what to say, so she decided to say nothing. As she turned to head to the house, he stopped her with a hand on her arm.

  In the light from the street lamps, he appeared serious. “We need to talk.”

  “I know.”

  “You’re not working tomorrow. Meet me for lunch.”

  It was her day off, but how did he know she wasn’t working? Something to find out later, when her brain was functioning better.

  She nodded.

  “I’ll pick you up here at one.”

  “Okay.”

  The skin on her back prickled as she walked up the drive, the hairs on the back of her neck rising. She shut the door behind her and peered through the glass, waiting until he got in the cab and drove away.

  Her body was replete, sleepy, and she tiptoed back to bed. This time she was asleep as her head touched the pillow.

  Chapter Eight

  If they were going to talk they had better be somewhere public. It was the only way Logan could guarantee he’d keep his hands off Abby. His fantasy girl was turning out to be addictive. But they needed to sort out how far she was willing to let him into his daughter’s life.

  The thought pricked at him. He was still pissed off at her for not telling him sooner, although the blow job had gone a long way to earning his forgiveness. Hey, so what—he was shallow. And if the blow job wasn’t enough, the sex afterwards had been out of this world. His dick twitched at the memory.

  He’d gotten her to touch herself again while he fucked her, and she’d come screaming. He’d had to clamp his hand over her mouth so she didn’t wake the neighborhood. He grinned at the memory.

  Now, he gave her a sideways glance as they followed the restaurant hostess to their table. It was hard to believe she’d let herself go like that. In fact, looking at her now—it was almost impossible. She was so…perfect. She wore a navy blue skirt suit with a white silk shirt and two inch heels. Her hair was back in that bun thing and he had the urge to reach across and pull it down around her shoulders. Her makeup was minimal, and she wore small pearls in her ears. Her looks screamed “boring.”

  But she wasn’t. Underneath that prim exterior was his wild woman, burning to get out. What had turned her this way? Was it having the baby alone? Or had she been like that before Jenny? He tried to remember back to that one night they’d had together eleven years ago. She’d been everything he ever fantasized about in a girl. Even before prison. Beautiful, full of life and laughter. And she’d wanted him, had melted in his arms.

  Never underestimate how much of a turn on it was to be desired. She’d stared at him across the room as though he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. He’d been powerless to resist.

  “Your table, sir.” The hostess held out a chair for Abby, and Logan seated himself opposite—out of reach. No touching until the talking was out of the way.

  He ordered a bottle of wine and sat back, fingers tapping on the table as he studied her, trying to work out what made her tick. “Tell me,” he said. “That night, eleven years ago. Why did you have sex with me? I’m guessing it wasn’t usual behavior for you.” Though he was pretty certain she hadn’t been a virgin—he’d have noticed. Wouldn’t he?

  She pursed her lips as if deciding what to say. Not a good sign. “I was drunk. For the first and last time.”

  What the fuck?

  “You’re telling me the only reason you had sex with me was because you were drunk.” He could hear the outrage in his voice. And he’d been thinking she’d taken one look at him and fallen wildly in love. Yeah, what fucking fairy tale was he living in? But it was clear, from his instinctive reaction, that that’s exactly what he’d believed…or hoped.

  She nodded solemnly. “Sorry, but it’s the truth. It was my eighteenth birthday. My friends organized it. We were supposed to be going out to dinner, or at least that’s what my parents thought. It wasn’t even my dress—they bought it for me as a birthday present. I would never have gotten something like that on my own.”

  “I remember,” he said. It had been black and sparkly and hardly there, showing off her long slender legs and a vast amount of cleavage.

  “You would never have even looked at me if I’d been dressed in my own clothes.”

  God, even she thought he was shallow. But maybe she was right.

  “Anyway. I drank tequila. Lots of it. And then I saw you…”

  “Across a crowded dance floor. How romantic.”

  “Actually you were. You were perfect. My birthday present. All that night I felt like I was someone else, in a bubble that the world couldn’t touch.” She bit her lower lip as if unsure whether to go on. “You made me feel so good. It was the best night of my life.”

  Okay, he forgave her for the drunken part. “Mine, too.” It was the truth. Maybe for him it was partly because of all the shit that came afterward. That night had been something good to remember.

  “And then I woke up on that sofa in your office, and your dad walked in, and my bubble well and truly burst.”

  He grinned. “I’ve never seen anyone dress so fast. You were gone before I could even ask your full name, never mind your number.”

  “There was nothing to stay for. That night was time out. We came from different worlds. I did my best to forget you and get on with my life, until I found I was pregnant and…” She gave a shrug, but he was guessing it hadn’t been a good time.

  “It’s hardly the stigma it used to be.”

  “You don’t know my father.”

  The waiter came with their wine and poured them both a glass. They studied the menu for a few minutes. “Have you been here before?” she asked. “What’s good?”

  He decided not to mention that he owned the place—part of his diversifying-out-of-nightclubs plan. “The steak is very good if you like meat—it comes from an estate in Scotland.”

  “You don’t like meat?”

  “I’m a vegetarian,” he said. “Much to Grunt’s disgust—no bones in the house.”

  He ordered the stuffed peppers while she chose a medium rare steak.

  “What’s he like,” Logan asked. “Your father, I mean? He wasn’t there on Sunday.”

  “He and mum split up ten years ago.”

  “Not divorced?”

  “No.”

  “Why’d they split?”

  “You met my mother. She’s lovely but a little ditzy. They were totally unsuited, but she worked so hard trying to fit in with his world. Then…”

  “Then?”

  “I got pregnant, and he demanded I get an abortion so I could go on with my legal studies. When I refused, he threw me out. Though I’m pretty sure he only did that because he thought it would bring me in line. And for the first time in her life, my mother stood up to him. Told him she was going as well. And here we are.”

  So that one night with him had effectively cost her a career and her father.

  “I’m not sorry,” she said, surprising him. “I wouldn’t change things even if I could. I love Jenny, and my father was a control freak. Mum’s better off without him.”

  “Does she agree?”

  “I don’t know. She doesn’t talk about him much, but I think she still loves him.”

  “What about the law thing—is it what you wanted to do?”

  She grinned. “No. I was doing it to please my father. He used to talk to me about his cases, and I’d pretend to be interested, but what I really wanted to do was catch the bad guys.”

  “Shit.” That was scary. “And am I a bad guy?”

  She cocked her head and studied him. “I thought so once. But we wouldn’t be here if I still believed that.”

  He took a sip of wine. She hadn’t touched hers yet. “Have a drink,” he said. “I promise not to take advantage of
you.”

  She lifted her glass and glanced around her. “This place is nice. And I bet I could never afford it on a police sergeant’s salary. So…how rich are you, Logan?”

  He almost choked on his mouthful of wine. Trust her to come right out and ask. Most women would hint around the subject, but not Abby. Why did she want to know? Was his father right, and she was about to ask him for money? Somehow he didn’t think so. “Rich enough to pay toward my daughter’s upkeep.”

  Her eyes widened. She hadn’t expected that. So obviously she hadn’t been about to demand he hand over vast amounts of cash to support them all. He was glad, but she wasn’t going to shut him out of their lives by not allowing him to be responsible.

  “I don’t want your money.”

  She sounded almost angry, but at that moment the food arrived, and she clamped her lips tight on whatever else she’d been going to say. She took a swig of wine. As the waiter left, she leaned in toward him. “Is that why you think I told you? To get at your money?”

  His lips twitched. He liked her angry. “No. Now eat your food.”

  He thought she was going to argue, but she picked up her knife and fork and started eating. Logan sat back, ignoring his own food, watching her.

  “Good?” he asked.

  “Oh yes. Sublime.”

  He couldn’t believe he was getting a hard-on watching her eat. Her mouth, the way she flicked out her tongue, the obvious enjoyment. She’d had the same expression last night with his cock between her lips, as though it had been the most delicious thing she had ever tasted. He shifted in the seat. Now was not the right time to think about blow jobs. He started eating.

  When her plate was clean, she put down her utensils, sat back, and sighed. “That was wonderful. I don’t get to eat out much, so it’s a treat.”

  “No dates?”

  She shrugged. “Sometimes. Not for a while. I’ve been busy. And it’s hard when you have to look at men as potential fathers as well as boyfriends.”

  “Well, that’s not an issue now. Jenny has a father.”

  “Hmm. But we don’t want your money.”

  A part of him liked that—his fantasy girl had never been mercenary. “Hard luck. I’ll pay maintenance. It’s up to you what you do with it. And she starts secondary school this year. I’ll pay school fees.”

  “She’s going to the local school. It’s good and it’s what she wants.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe she didn’t have any other options. She does now.” He sat back took a sip of wine, studied the mutinous tilt of her chin. “You asked how rich I am. I’m very rich. My father signed the nightclub side of the business over to me when I was twenty-two, and I’ve increased the value twenty-fold in the years since.”

  Probably more than that. He might not have Declan’s business training, but he had a flair for making money, making the right decisions at the right time, and the business had flourished.

  “Was that when you came out of prison?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Rory reckoned I needed a challenge, something to keep me busy and on the straight and narrow.” He grinned. “He needn’t have bothered—I’d already decided I was never going back to prison. But I enjoy it and I’m good at it. So my point is, I have the money, and I want to pay my share. Jenny is my daughter. You might not like that, but you have no choice but to accept it.”

  For a moment she looked like she was about to argue some more—her eyes stormy, her face tense—then she took a deep breath and her expression smoothed out.

  “You call your father Rory? Why’s that?”

  He shrugged. “Actually, he suggested it. We didn’t really know each other until I was ten. I was a little…precocious, and wasn’t quite ready to believe he wasn’t the monster my mother had made him out to be. Wasn’t ready to call him dad.”

  “But you get on okay.”

  “Yeah. We clash a lot—we’re too much alike—but he’s great. I was screwed up when I came to him, but he straightened me out.”

  “Not very well.”

  It took him a second to realize she was talking about his spell in prison. He thought about trying to defend himself, to explain to her what had happened. Tell her it wasn’t his fault. But he was betting as a police officer, she’d heard that a thousand times and wouldn’t be impressed. Besides he wasn’t ready to try to justify anything to her. She had to make her own decisions about what sort of man he was.

  “That wasn’t my father’s fault.” Time to change the subject. “So, I’ll talk to my lawyer and get the paperwork set up. You talk to Jenny about schools.”

  “Okay.”

  That had been too easy. On to the next thing. “I want to see her alone. I want to get to know her.”

  She nodded. “I think she’d like that.”

  So far so good. “I want her to stay over. Every other weekend.”

  Shock flared in her eyes. She hadn’t been expecting that. His little sergeant thought he was going to calmly accept the crumbs she let him have. She needed to learn otherwise. And fast. All part of understanding who he was.

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” she said. “Maybe we can talk about it when she’s older.”

  “What? Like twenty? Never going to happen.” He ran a hand through his hair wondering how far to push. But they needed to get this settled between them. “I talked to my lawyer. If I take this to court, I will get access. You want us to go down that route?”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  He sat back in his chair and eyed her lazily. She was becoming a little unraveled. He liked that. “Try me.”

  She bit her lip and a jolt of awareness ran through him, settling in his cock. He’d been doing well at keeping his mind off sex. Now his head filled with images of Abby in various fantasies, pressed up against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist, his dick buried deep inside her.

  He shook his head to dispel the vision. Had she bitten her lip on purpose, to distract him? He didn’t think so. For such a sensual woman, she seemed sublimely unaware of the effect she had on him. Well, until they were both naked, then she noticed. It was probably just as well she didn’t understand exactly how far he would go to get inside her panties again. Not that he was budging on his decisions about Jennifer. But anything else was negotiable.

  “Come on, Abby. My house is hardly a den of iniquity.” Okay, maybe he could give a little. “You can always come along the first couple of times. Make sure she’s okay, that Grunt and I are capable of acting in a civilized manner.”

  She did that little nibble on her lower lip again, following it with a swipe of her pointed tongue, and he had to bite back a groan. Finally, she took a deep breath and nodded. “That would be good. At least the first time. For me, maybe more than for her.”

  He liked that she was being honest. “Thank you.”

  “I’m sorry if I came across as difficult. Of course you’d want her to stay with you. You just surprised me. I guess I never really thought this through.”

  No, she’d thought he was the sort of man who’d want nothing to do with a ten-year-old daughter. She was starting to learn different. But they’d had enough lessons for today. He’d gotten what he wanted. Well, some of what he wanted. Would she give him the rest?

  “You want dessert?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  “You want to come back to my place, and we’ll fuck each other’s brains out?”

  He held his breath as he waited for her answer. If she said no…well, he’d have to try and persuade her. But she pushed back her chair and rose to her feet. “Let’s go.”

  Okay, so she was nervous. This was Jenny and Logan’s first solo date. He was taking her to her favorite place—London Zoo. All day, Abby’s fingers had itched with the need to reach for her cell phone and find out if everything was going well. So far she’d resisted.

  She hadn’t seen him since the day they’d had lunch together. She’d used the excuse that she was working long shifts, which was true, and sh
e was too tired for anything else. She’d half expected—okay, half hoped—that he would make another nighttime visit, but nothing. He’d obviously accepted her excuses, which went to show she’d been right to think she was nothing more than a novelty.

  She hated the little jab of pain that accompanied the thought.

  Accept it.

  As promised, he’d taken her back to his place and fucked her brains out. She’d never liked the word but it perfectly described what they’d done. There had been nothing soft. It had been hard and brutal, and she had loved every second.

  He’d taken her up against the wall in his hallway, as though he couldn’t wait any longer, stripping her of her clothes so she was naked while he was still fully dressed, which she’d found incredibly erotic.

  An hour and multiple orgasms later, he’d driven her to pick Jenny up from school, come back to the house, and had tea while he chatted to Jenny and discussed what she would like to do at the weekend, finally agreeing on the zoo.

  All while she’d sat there remembering the feel of his hands and mouth on her body.

  Everything was slipping out of her control. She was glad it was working between them, but now she had to somehow get a grip. Force herself to see Logan as Jenny’s father and nothing else. Before that lunch she’d told herself she was going to maintain some distance with him. And all it had taken was one sentence to melt her barriers. Well, one sentence and an hour of sitting across from him trying not to remember what he tasted like, what he felt like deep inside her.

  Still, she shouldn’t have gone with him. She was a weak-willed nymphomaniac, at least where Logan was concerned.

  But all through that lunch, she’d been unable to get naked Logan out of her mind. She was fixated on his penis. But honestly, as penises went, it was just about perfect. Plus he knew exactly what to do with it. When he was inside her, it was as though she were the only thing in his world; he focused solely on her, fiercely possessing her until she could think of nothing else, either.

  Ugh!

  She had to stop thinking about him like that. Somehow, they had to find a way they could work with each other on a normal basis. For Jenny’s benefit.