Slow Hands

by Faye Avalon

  He had a sudden desire to take on her case himself. Whether to sate the intense sexual attraction that fired in his veins or just to make sure the likes of Veronica Lebeck didn’t get away with screwing people using cockamamie stories about rabid vibrators.

  Maybe both.

  ‘I’m going away tomorrow, but I’ll take a closer look at your file tonight.’

  She drew a breath, the movement highlighting the curve of her breasts beneath the conservative jacket. ‘I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that. Thanks for fitting me in.’

  Logan went to his desk, grabbed one of his business cards and scribbled on the back, all the while imagining how April could fit him in just fine. All the way. Hard. Fast. Deep.

  With that particular thought thrumming through his head, he walked back to the door. He timed it perfectly, his hand connecting with hers as they both reached for the door handle. There was heat in her eyes, a definite pink tinge across her cheekbones.

  ‘You like Italian?’

  Suspicion layered over the heat. ‘Why?’

  With his free hand he held out his card, keeping hold of it for a moment too long when she tried to take it. ‘I’m inviting you to supper.’

  And hopefully more, Logan thought as her gaze held his. He wanted her in his bed, but he also wanted her to look at him without wariness clouding her brown eyes. That might make him a fool, but he was a well-prepared one. Forewarned was forearmed, or so the saying went. What was wrong with a casual and mutually agreeable hook-up with a woman who intrigued him almost as much as she attracted him?

  ‘Do you feed all your clients, Mr Fitzpatrick?’

  He shrugged as her question pulled him from his thoughts. ‘Two birds. One stone. And, since I’ll need that sample, you can bring it with you.’

  He caught another glimmer of suspicion, right before she looked down at the card. It made him smile. And push. ‘And, since we both know we’re heading way past formalities, let’s make it Logan.’

  She tapped the card a few times before her gaze met his. ‘Isn’t there some kind of code that says we should stick to formalities? A kind of client-and-lawyer thing?’

  He liked it that she didn’t pretend to misunderstand his meaning. ‘You’re not technically my client. I’m just giving you advice.’

  A slight smile turned up the corners of her sensual mouth. ‘I assume you’re billing me for your time? That makes it official lawyer/client territory.’

  He leaned closer, pleased when she stood her ground. ‘Even so, there’s no problem, since there’s no code.’

  Still she didn’t move, but she looked at him with a measure of heat that shot straight to his loins. Fuck, but he wanted her more than he’d wanted a woman in a long time.

  Hot nights. Hot sex. No strings.

  ‘Maybe I’m not looking for a man, just a lawyer.’

  ‘Who says you can’t have both?’

  She tilted her head as if she was weighing him up. ‘I’ve got too much at stake to muddy the waters.’

  That suited him just fine. ‘Then we’ll make sure to keep those waters nice and clear.’ He waited a beat. ‘My private address is on the back of the card.’

  She tapped the card to her chin, considering, then she turned to the door.

  Logan opened it.

  ‘Seven o’clock.’

  Unable to resist he leaned down as she passed him, his mouth close to her ear.

  ‘Don’t forget the vibrator.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  APRIL ARRIVED BACK at the small apartment she shared with Lizzie, her body still throbbing from the interaction with Logan. All kinds of lewd things had shot through her brain when he’d told her in that deep, gravelly voice to remember to bring the vibrator, his breath warm and sensual against her ear. His intoxicating scent had wrapped around her and accompanied her all the way home.

  He’d done it on purpose, of course, anticipating a reaction. And that was after he’d basically propositioned her.

  Had he expected she’d get all flustered, skittish and embarrassed?

  Dream on.

  She was used to insinuations, and she was used to propositions. In her line of work it came with the territory. Most men made some smutty comment when they found out she ran an adult toy business, insinuating she might give them a personal demonstration of her products. A minority actually asked her flat-out if she’d have sex with them.

  Although irritated, she generally fielded those comments with a sardonic response or simply ignored them. Logan’s smoky allusion had shot a reaction between her legs that had taken her by surprise. Well, kind of... The truth was she hadn’t been able to steady her hormones since setting eyes on the man, ensuring she’d been thinking about vibrator-play with a certain sexy lawyer all the way home on the tube.

  She’d told him she wanted a lawyer, not a man. He’d said she could have both.

  Could she?

  Wouldn’t that make things complicated?

  What if they had hot, steamy sex and then the attraction fizzled out?

  But what if they had hot, steamy sex and it didn’t fizzle out?

  Hell, she could imagine Logan would be amazing in bed. She’d bet he didn’t shy away from adventure, either. Not like Richard.

  She blew out a breath, picked up her mail and took it with her down the hall, tossing her jacket on a chair as she went. The cosy apartment wrapped around her, settling her a little after the tumult of the day. In the galley kitchen, she switched on the coffee machine and gave only a cursory thought to the wisdom of adding caffeine to her edgy mood. She’d been jittery since leaving Logan’s office—actually, she’d been that way since walking into his office. He’d pulled all kinds of weird things from her.

  It was just sex, of course. Pure and simple. He made her think about sex. Made her want sex. All that hot and steamy sex.

  Maybe part of the attraction was his directness, the way he’d warned her he wouldn’t tolerate any fudging around the facts. After what she’d been through with Richard, dealing with someone honest and upfront was refreshing to say the least.

  Sex with someone like Logan could be all kinds of interesting, and she was due, wasn’t she?

  It had been a while since Richard. Not that sex with him had been great. Richard had liked it vanilla, blatantly disregarding her occasional attempts to try something new and exciting using the perks afforded by the products of her trade.

  It was only recently that she’d realised he’d controlled her in the bedroom, too, and while she wasn’t entirely averse to that she would have liked to take the lead on occasion. To have made their sex life exciting, adventurous...electrifying. With Richard it never had been. Any time she’d tried to take things to another level he’d made her feel dirty and sluttish. Bad enough, he’d said, that she ran the kind of business she did. Didn’t she know that men would see her as an easy target?

  Worse than any of that was the fact that he’d kicked her when she was at her lowest point. She might have learned to live with their lack-lustre sex-life, and his pointed remarks about the nature of her business, but the way he’d controlled, manipulated and ultimately betrayed her was unforgivable. He’d fed on her fears, shattered her confidence, made her doubt herself and her abilities.

  It wouldn’t happen again. Ever. No way would she be that vulnerable, that naïve. Never again. Lessons had been learned and digested. Now she was in control. She was the one who knew what was best for her and her business. And if she wanted sex she’d have it. On her own terms.

  She would keep control. She would call the shots. And, by God, this time she’d keep her wits about her. No man was ever going to screw with her again.

  Before she could slide further down memory lane, her phone buzzed.

  ‘How did it go?’ Lizzie asked, without preamble. She was currently on a modelling assignment in Copen
hagen. ‘Did he give you any idea of how things stand?’

  ‘Not really. When I first told him why I was there he could barely keep his face straight. Kept sticking an unlit cigar in his mouth.’

  And damned if she wasn’t remembering the way that cigar had sat between his impossibly perfect white teeth as he’d smiled wickedly around it. Her core muscles clenched hard, but she made herself focus.

  ‘I’ll wager you soon put him right?’

  ‘I told him to treat me with the same respect he’d give anyone seeking his advice. He’s looking through the paperwork tonight.’ She waited, for effect. ‘He invited me to supper.’

  ‘Hmm...’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  But April knew only too well what it meant. Lizzie had been encouraging her to get out there and have some fun since she’d moved back to London.

  ‘He wants me to bring a sample vibrator. And he told me to call him Logan.’

  ‘Hmm... Are you interested?’

  She could have lied, but what was the point? ‘Very, as it happens. But I’m not sure it’s a good idea. It has “complicated” written all over it.’

  ‘Don’t see why. Where does he live?’

  ‘Chelsea. Farnsworth Place.’

  ‘Swanky. Now, go convince him to take you on.’ It was Lizzie’s turn to wait a beat. ‘And don’t you dare refuse dessert. It could prove mighty appetising...’

  * * *

  As she walked up the immaculate stone steps to Logan’s house April tried not to think about dessert. It was so bloody tempting, though—until she remembered that the man stirring all her juices was hopefully going to help save her business. That was what she should be focusing on right now, not hot, raunchy and undoubtedly fabulous sex.

  April sucked in a steadying breath. Lizzie had been right about Farnsworth Place. Swanky. The house was one in a row of majestic three-storey houses with cream-coloured wood cladding offset with glossy black railed balconies.

  Yet again, he’d thrown her off balance. It didn’t suit him, somehow. Too conventional, too...civilised.

  Ignoring the flutter in her stomach, she pressed the doorbell. While she waited, she pulled the strap of her tote bag higher onto her shoulder and the box inside bumped her hip, reminding her why she was here.

  A guy opened the door, holding a beer. ‘You must be April Sinclair. Come in.’

  Thrown by someone other than Logan greeting her, April teetered on the top step until the man ushered her into the airy hallway. Her first impression was of space and not one iota of clutter. Several large abstract paintings hung along the ivory walls, providing a splash of bold and dramatic colour. The tiled floors were cool and functional, with just a few pieces of walnut furniture scattered along the length of the hall, leading the eye towards the back of the house.

  ‘Let me take your coat. He’s through there.’

  April shrugged out of her coat, feeling out of place in her black knee-length skirt and pale blue tee shirt. She followed the man down the hall and into the living area. Terrace doors, stretching the full width of the room, showcased Chelsea Harbour and the glittering waters of the River Thames.

  Logan stood looking beyond the terrace doors, speaking on his mobile phone. He turned to her and she felt the punch of his heated appraisal right down to her toes.

  The man was impossibly gorgeous.

  He wore his dark shirt open at the collar, which seemed to emphasise the width of his shoulders—or maybe it was the way he stood. Tall, upright and confident, one hand holding his phone, the other slipped into the pocket of his jeans.

  Master of his universe. King of his domain.

  She tried not to react to the slide of lust that flashed in her belly and burned through her blood as, with his gaze on hers, he finished his call and walked towards her. The pull of attraction radiated between them, hard to ignore and definitely hard to deny. She wasn’t at all sure about the intensity of this reaction he pulled from her. Despite the whole wanting to jump into bed with him thing, he made her feel strangely vulnerable. And that wouldn’t do. Hadn’t she vowed never again to let anyone hold power over her, over her life?

  ‘I see you’ve met my brother, Connor.’ Logan slapped the man playfully on the shoulder. ‘He’s just leaving.’

  Connor turned and arched a sardonic eyebrow at his brother. ‘I am?’

  ‘You are,’ Logan confirmed with a quick smile as he took Connor’s beer. ‘Keep working on that status report for me, okay? We’ll catch up later.’ He turned his brother towards the hall with a little shove, receiving a fulminating look in return.

  ‘Drink?’ Logan asked as Connor left, the front door closing behind him with a hefty thud. ‘What’s your poison?’

  ‘Just coffee, please.’ April followed him into a huge kitchen, which afforded another fabulous view of the harbour and with the most delicious smell coming from the double oven. ‘I didn’t know you had a brother.’

  ‘Three,’ he said switching on the coffee machine. ‘Plus a sister. All younger than me, and each one a royal pain in the ass.’

  Since he said it with a smile in his voice, April recognised the affection there. It was interesting to see this side of Logan, a glimpse of softness in the blatantly powerful and sexy lawyer. It tugged at something inside her. A little wistfully, she thought about how she’d always yearned for siblings. A big, loving family. Instead she’d been an only child, born late and unexpectedly to parents who had taken little interest in her except to manage and direct every aspect of her life.

  ‘Do they all live close?’

  She enjoyed watching the easy way he moved around the space. His tight ass in those exquisitely cut jeans, his broad shoulders, strong arms... Sadly, his forearms were covered by shirtsleeves tonight, although the cuffs were turned back, displaying firm wrists and sturdy hands.

  ‘Connor lives in the city. The others are scattered all over, doing their thing.’

  ‘Which is...?’ April asked the question almost automatically, fascinated by the warmth that slipped into his tone as he spoke of his siblings, and mesmerised by his masculine appeal as he performed the simple domestic task of placing coffee cups, milk and sugar on a tray.

  ‘Aiden and Ty are both in the forces. Colleen is at uni in Edinburgh.’

  She leaned back against a unit. ‘Do you see them much?’

  ‘I make sure to. Gotta keep them on the straight and narrow.’ He turned, mirroring her as he leaned back. ‘How about you?’

  ‘No siblings. No parents now. My mother died several years ago, and my father more recently.’

  Logan frowned. ‘That’s rough.’

  ‘I’ve got great friends.’

  He nodded, then his eyes turned heated. ‘A man?’

  ‘Like I said, I’m not in the market for complications.’

  The corner of his mouth hiked into that cocky grin. ‘Doesn’t have to be complicated.’

  ‘Not at the start, but that’s how it usually ends.’

  ‘Not if everyone plays by the rules.’

  The gleam in his blue eyes shone across the space between them and made the air positively sizzle. She’d told Lizzie she was interested in Logan. What she had failed to admit was that she was tempted beyond words to throw caution to the wind and jump him. Every moment she spent with the man made it harder to resist him.

  And why the hell should she? She was long overdue some fun—the dirtier the better—and she knew Logan was exactly the man to provide it.

  Could it be that simple?

  ‘What sort of rules?’

  His nostrils flared. ‘That’s open to discussion.’

  She remained silent, contemplating him and his words while her thighs trembled. If she gave in to temptation, wouldn’t that negate the progress she’d made in getting a lawyer who actually seemed to be taking her seriously?
Wasn’t she better off focusing on the reason she was here and resisting the temptation of his admittedly considerable sexual appeal?

  ‘I think I’d rather discuss the threat to my business,’ she said, hoping that her eyes conveyed that she hadn’t completely drawn a solid line through the other discussion.

  He studied her for several long moments, his blue gaze penetrating and panty-melting, and she was on the verge of telling him to scratch what she’d said when he nodded, then placed the coffee pot on the tray.

  ‘Okay. Let’s go and move things on.’

  Considering the gist of the conversation they’d just shared, April wondered what exactly they were about to move on with. Business? Or pleasure? Both?

  She followed him down the hall to the front of the building and into a sumptuous study. Book-filled shelves on every wall and a welcoming log-filled fireplace made the imposing space cosy and convivial.

  Logan indicated the large leather sofa by the fireplace, then poured them both coffee before taking his seat on the matching sofa opposite. He’d switched to business mode, which gave her the answer to the moving things on question.

  Settling back, he hooked his ankle across the opposite knee and started to flick through the folder she’d given him earlier. She found herself ogling his wide chest, the brawny shoulders. Since his forearms were covered by shirtsleeves, she let her attention slide leisurely downward. She almost smiled when she got to his shiny Italian leather shoes, wondering if it was true what they said about men with large feet.

  ‘Did you bring it?’

  ‘What?’

  It was impossible to mistake the gleam in his eye. The man knew that she’d been checking him out.

  ‘The vibrator.’

  ‘Of course, that’s why I’m here.’

  ‘Then let’s take a look.’

  April reached into her bag and pulled out the oblong box showing a busty half-naked blonde touching the pink vibrator to her red pouting lips.

  Bloody hell. It would have been bad enough handing the box over to any lawyer, but to a man who seemed to fan her sexual flame just by breathing? It was impossible not to imagine him taking it out of the box and using it on her. They’d both be naked, and she’d be spread out beneath him while he treated her to that cocky grin as his big capable hands slid the vibrator between her legs...