Читать книгу The Wager - Metsy Hingle - Страница 12

“Is something wrong with your veal?” Laura asked, unnerved by Josh’s steady gaze on her.

“The veal’s excellent.” As though to prove the point he took a bite, but his eyes never wavered from her face.

“Josh, you’re staring,” she accused, hoping the rebuke would diffuse the sexual tension that seemed to have escalated between them in the restaurant’s cozy surroundings.

“I know,” he admitted, and instead of being embarrassed to have been caught, he merely flashed her another of those killer smiles that had her stomach dipping and her heart beating just a little too fast. “I was remembering that old adage about the eyes being the mirror to a person’s soul. Whoever came up with that particular phrase must have had you in mind, Laura Harte. You have the most incredible eyes—so expressive.”

So much for dousing the sensual sparks, Laura thought. His answer and the way he was looking at her—like he was a big cat and she was a tempting bowl of cream—had her already fast pulse racing flat-out. She drew in a deep breath, trying to marshal her reaction to the man. “Thank you.”

He chuckled. “See, that’s what I mean. A moment ago you were all business, and your eyes were an icy blue. But just now when I surprised you and you forgot to be Ms. Hotel Executive, the color of your eyes changed,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky drawl. “Now they’re a smoky blue—like the surf in St. Thomas at dawn.”

“I think one of us has had too much wine,” she said with a nonchalance she was far from feeling.

“Nope.” As if to prove his point, Josh took another sip of the cabernet. “Just making an observation. Surely I’m not the first man to tell you that you have beautiful eyes.”

“No,” she murmured, but she couldn’t remember any other man making her hot all over with just a look. “Thank you.”

He nodded but continued to watch her over the rim of his glass. “I’ve embarrassed you.”

“No, you haven’t.”

He grinned. “That’s not what your eyes tell me. They truly are extraordinary, the most unique color. Just when I think I’ve nailed down the exact shade, they change again. But then, I guess you’ve heard that before, too.”

“Actually, I haven’t, and I suspect you know it,” Laura said, determined not to let him fluster her. “You’re very skilled at this.”

“At what?”

“Flirting.”

“Is that what you think I’m doing?” he asked, amusement in his voice.

“Isn’t it?” she countered. “Those deep, soul-searching looks and all this talk about the color of my eyes when you and I both know that they’re blue. Plain, ordinary blue.”

Josh’s lips curved again. This time slowly, seductively. He leaned forward slightly, which increased the feeling of intimacy between them. “Trust me, Laura. There’s not a man alive who would look at you and ever see anything plain or ordinary about you.”

Laura’s pulse skittered. Her mouth suddenly dry, she reached for her wineglass, clutched it tightly and hoped he didn’t notice the slight tremor in her fingers. She disliked the fact that she was nervous, Laura admitted as she sipped the expensive vintage. She dealt with lots of men in her line of work. Men never made her nervous. Josh didn’t make her nervous. He certainly wasn’t responsible for this light-headed feeling she had or for the butterflies buzzing in her stomach. As she studied him over the rim of her glass, she told herself the way she felt had nothing to do with Josh or the fact that he was handsome and charming, and she found him attractive. No, it wasn’t Josh himself who was responsible for her feeling this way. It was the setting—the candlelight and romantic music. It was the fact that she was lonely and it had been well over a year since she’d been involved in a male-female relationship.

And she was lying through her teeth, Laura conceded. But only a first-rate idiot would buy the line he was feeding her. And she was no idiot. She’d met men like Josh Logan before—gorgeous, charming seducers out for a night or two of fun. And as interesting and attractive as she found Josh, a quick fling wasn’t her style. Yet, sitting here with him now, she almost wished that it was. “You’re a dangerous man, Josh Logan,” she said, giving him her brightest smile. “I can only imagine the long trail of broken hearts you’ve left in your wake down South.”

“Ouch,” he said, slapping a hand against his heart. “Those are some pretty sharp arrows you’re slinging there, Ms. Harte. Do you always shoot a man when he pays you a compliment?”

“Is that what you were doing? Why, I could have sworn you were trying to seduce me.”

She’d meant to make him laugh, had been sure he would find her comeback amusing. Yet the grin died on his lips. His eyes darkened, and she noted for the first time tiny flecks of gold in them. “Believe me, Laura, if I were trying to seduce you, you wouldn’t have to wonder if that’s what I was doing. You would know it.”

Laura’s breath stalled in her lungs. And despite her best efforts to prevent it, excitement shimmied down her spine.

“Are you finished, Ms. Harte?” the waiter asked, saving her from having to respond.

“Yes. I am. Thank you, Stewart.”

Telling herself that she wasn’t a coward for feeling grateful at the interruption, Laura used the opportunity to rein in her emotions. While Stewart cleared away the dishes and recited the dessert menu, Laura attempted to regain her perspective by reminding herself that Josh Logan was her boss’s friend and a man whom she would probably never see again after tonight. Just because she’d been lonely since her mother’s death was no reason to overreact to his innocent flirtation—a flirtation that was no doubt second nature to a man like him. Once the waiter retreated, they both said simultaneously, “I’m sorry.”

She laughed.

So did Josh.

“Well, I’m glad we got that cleared up,” she told him. “Thank you for what you said…about my eyes. It was very sweet of you—which is what I should have said to begin with instead of accusing you of hitting on me. I was out of line and I really am sorry.”

“Since we’re being honest, I suppose I should confess that you weren’t totally off base,” he replied, a wicked and totally unapologetic glint in his eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, I meant what I said. You do have beautiful eyes.”

“But?”

“But I guess I was hitting on you. It wasn’t a conscious thing on my part, but I was coming on to you all the same.”

“I understand,” she said, disappointed because there was a part of her that had wanted to believe he’d been sincere in the things he’d said.

“Is that so?”

“Yes. I know it wasn’t anything personal. It was instinctive—the ‘you’re a man, I’m a woman’ thing.”

Josh frowned as he sat back in his chair and subjected her to one of those scrutinizing looks. “Tell me something, Laura. Do you have a poor opinion of the male population in general or is it just me in particular?”

She caught the edge in his voice, wondered how she had managed to put it there. “Neither.”

“And you, Ms. Harte, can’t lie worth spit.”

“Now, just hang on a minute,” Laura shot back, bristling at his reply.

“No, you hang on,” he told her, and pinned her with a steely look. “What I was trying to say and have obviously done a damn poor job of it is that I’m attracted to you. You’re a smart, interesting woman and I like the fact that you live and breathe this business like I do. I’m also fascinated by the fact that you look at an old hotel like this one and see more than just dollar signs or a lucrative investment. You see the beauty and history that gives the place its soul, that makes it unique. Add to that the fact that you’re a beautiful, sexy woman, and I would have to be dead or have ice in my veins not to hit on you.”

His little speech took the wind right out of her sails. For a full five seconds Laura could do nothing more than stare at him. One thing she was sure of was that Josh Logan wasn’t dead and never in a million years would she even think of suggesting he had ice in his veins. Quite to the contrary, Josh struck her as a man who would be passionate in all aspects of his life.

“Obviously, I’ve shocked you.”

The amusement in his voice nipped at her pride, making her feel like an awkward girl unused to going toe-to-toe with a man like him. Keeping her voice cool, she said, “Not at all. I’m just not sure how to respond. I can’t decide it you were apologizing to me just now or taking another stab at trying to seduce me.”

“Neither. I was simply stating the facts.”

“Thank you for clearing that up for me,” she countered.

“Glad to do it. But there is one thing I think I should clarify.”

The gleam in his eyes, coupled with that handsome face, made her think of fallen angels. Still she asked, “And just what would that be?”

“While I may have admitted that I was hitting on you a few minutes ago, I haven’t tried to seduce you.”

Yet. The unspoken word hung between them like a live wire dangling in a storm, and Laura’s already taut nerves grew even more tense. “I didn’t realize there was a difference.”

The smile he gave her was pure sin. “Believe me, there is. I’d be happy to explain it to you or even demonstrate, if you’d like.”

“That’s all right. I’ll take your word for it,” she said, deciding she’d be wise not to pursue the discussion. While she didn’t consider herself a coward and had enjoyed the verbal volleying with him, she suspected Josh Logan was far better at this male-female thing than she was. So she held out her hand. “Truce?”

“Truce.” But instead of shaking her hand as she’d intended, Josh kissed it. And Laura felt the touch of his lips all the way to her toes.

“It looks like dessert’s arrived,” she said, withdrawing her hand. And while the waiter prepared Bananas Foster table-side, Laura chattered about the restaurant’s other sumptuous dessert offerings.

Once the flaming delicacy had been served and the waiter retreated, Laura decided she’d be wise to avoid any more of the sensual minefields they’d been stumbling across all evening by shifting to a safer topic. “Nick mentioned earlier that both your father and grandfather were hoteliers.”

“That’s right. Gramps was still in his twenties when he built his first hotel. By the time I was born, he owned more than a dozen.”

“And now?” she asked before spooning up a taste of the ice cream.

“Now there are thirty-one hotels that bear the Logan Hotels banner.”

“Very impressive,” Laura said. “How does it feel to be part of a dynasty?”

He chuckled. “I’m not sure dynasty is the word I’d use to describe us Logans.”

“I don’t see why not. You and your family have been very successful in a business that’s extremely competitive.”

“True,” he said as he shoveled up another spoon of ice cream coated with the thick brown-sugar sauce. “But it’s hard thinking of Logan Hotels as a dynasty when I’ve been brought up to think of it as our little family business.”

Laura arched a brow. “Somehow, I don’t think thirty-one hotels classifies as anyone’s little family business.”

“Put like that, I guess it does sound silly. But it’s what we do.”

“And obviously you do it very well.”

He shrugged. “Gramps was a good teacher. And my family’s been lucky. We’ve gotten most of the hotels we’ve gone after, but we’ve also worked hard to make things happen.”

“I imagine you have. Still, it must be nice…you and your family working together.”

“It’s both a blessing and a curse….”

While Josh spoke of the fun and the madness of working with his siblings and parents, Laura couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy. She thought of her own life, the closeness she’d shared with her mother, and considered the irony of the profession she’d chosen. Not for the first time since discovering the truth about her father, she wondered how her mother had felt about her decision to pursue a career in hotel management. Thoughts of her father invariably brought back the phone call from Olivia Jardine. Despite the older woman’s insistence, her heritage wasn’t in New Orleans. Why would she even want to claim the heritage of a man who had not only abandoned his pregnant lover, but had denied her as well?

“Is something wrong?”

Laura jerked her attention to Josh. “No. Not at all. I was just thinking about the dynamics of your family. How many of you Logans are there?”

“In my immediate family, there are five of us kids. There are also a half-dozen aunts and uncles and about twenty or so cousins.”

For someone who’d had no one but her mother, it sounded like an army. “You have four brothers and sisters?”

“No brothers. Just sisters. Two older than me—Meredith and Rachel—and two who are younger—Hope and Faith. And they’re all nosy, bossy and intent on driving their only brother crazy.”

“Those are interesting descriptions of your sisters. Makes me wonder how they’d describe you.”

“As their handsome, charming and perfect brother, of course.”

Laura laughed at the outrageous claim.

“It’s true,” he assured her.

“Sure it is.”

“And it’s obvious that you didn’t grow up in a house of pesky siblings.”

“Afraid not. It was just me and my mother,” Laura informed him, enjoying the easy banter between them. She sampled the banana swimming in the thick, rich sauce.

“You poor, deprived kid. You missed out on all the fun stuff like fighting for a shot at the bathroom, and when you get it, nearly getting choked to death on all the perfumes and girly lotions in the air. Or waiting your turn for the shower and discovering there’s no hot water left.”

“You’re right. I can’t say I’ve had any of that fun.”

“And I don’t suppose you know what it’s like to find half of your shirts and shorts missing because the newest craze in female fashion is men’s wear, do you?”

Grinning, Laura shook her head, both amused and intrigued by the images he was painting of his siblings. “No, but my mom and I were the same size and she used to borrow my clothes sometimes. Does that count?”

“Not even close,” he informed her. “True sibling torture is to be a lowly red-shirted freshman on the football team and have the foxy senior-class cheerleader offer to drive you home after practice, and while the two of you are making out in her snazzy car in front of your house, your bratty little sisters are spying on you. Worse yet, they run inside and tattle on you to your parents.”

“You’re making that up,” Laura accused, unable to hold back her laughter.

He held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor. My sisters drove me crazy when we were kids, and now that we’re adults, they take turns trying to drive me nuts.”

“But you love them,” she said, hearing the affection in his voice, seeing it in his eyes.

He shrugged. “What choice do I have? They’re family. You have to love your family.”

Not always, Laura mused. She thought again of her father, of Andrew Jardine. For the first time since discovering the truth, she allowed herself to think of his children—her half brother and sisters. She couldn’t help wondering what it would have been like if things had been different.

“What about you? What was it like for you growing up?” Josh asked.

Laura pulled her thoughts back to the present. “Compared to your childhood, mine was very quiet. My father…I never knew my father. It was just my mother and me.”

“Nick told me she died recently and that the two of you were close.”

“Yes. We were close. She was a wonderful woman—sort of a combination of mother, sister and best friend all rolled into one. She was so full of life. Always had a smile on her face. I don’t think she ever met a stranger, or at least no one that stayed a stranger, for long. Everyone adored her.”

“She sounds like a special lady.”

“She was. And she didn’t have it easy, raising me by herself. But she never complained, never once made me feel that I was a burden. I always felt loved, wanted. She was a very strong and brave woman.”

“A lot like her daughter, I suspect.”

Laura swallowed hard. “Thank you,” she murmured, and stared down at her dessert.

“You still miss her a lot, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Laura admitted.

He tipped up her chin with his finger so that she met his eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t even begin to imagine how you must feel. As much as I complain about my family, I’d be lost without them.”

Which described exactly how she’d felt during these past months—lost. But it wasn’t just the physical absence of her mother. It was knowing that all those years she’d idolized a father who’d never existed, that she’d believed herself to be someone she wasn’t. “I still have my friends. And, of course, there’s Uncle Paul.”

“Uncle Paul?”

“Well, he’s not really my uncle. He’s…he was my mother’s attorney and oldest friend. I’ve known him all my life,” she informed him. “He certainly treats me like family, though. He’s always nagging at me to eat, to go out more, not to work too hard. Judging by the number of sons and nephews of associates that he’s been introducing to me lately on one pretext or another, I think he’s made it his mission to marry me off.”

“Is that what you want? To get married and settle down?”

Something in Josh’s tone had Laura look up from the spoon that she’d been licking. Excitement danced along her skin at the hunger in his eyes as he watched her. “I suppose so…someday. If the right man comes along.”

“And what type of man is the right man?”

“He’s someone li—” She’d been about to say, he was someone like her father had been. But her father hadn’t been the man she’d believed him to be. He’d been an irresponsible coward and liar. “He’s someone honest and trustworthy. Someone who lives up to his responsibilities, who does what’s right regardless of the cost to him.”

“Sounds like you’re holding out for a hero,” he said as he stole a spoonful of her Bananas Foster.

“I guess I am.” She noted his empty dish as he swiped another bite of her dessert. “What about you?”

“Me?” He paused, his spoon already poised for another swoop of her ice cream. “I’m not holding out for a hero.”

“Funny,” she said, and tapped his spoon aside. His expression fell as she zeroed in on the last of the dessert. So she divided the remaining bite in half. “I meant do you ever think about getting married and settling down?”

Polishing off the bite she’d left him, he grinned and said, “Not if I can help it.”

“Josh, it really isn’t necessary for you to walk me to my car,” Laura said as they approached the bank of elevators that led to the parking garage.

“Sure it is.” He pushed the button, signaling for the elevator. “It’s late. The garage will be dark and you’re alone.”

“And your point is?”

“Besides the fact that it would be ungentlemanly of me not to accompany you, walking through a dark garage alone at night doesn’t strike me as being particularly safe.”

“Why? Because I’m a woman?”

“I didn’t say that,” he countered carefully, catching that slight edge in her voice and the defiant tilt of her chin.

“You didn’t have to. Obviously you think that if some…some thug managed to get past the hotel’s security—which is excellent, by the way—that I, being a mere woman, couldn’t possibly handle the situation.”

He was in stormy waters here, Josh told himself. Thanks to his sisters, he knew just how prickly a woman could get when she thought a man was being overprotective. “What I think is that any thug foolish enough to mistake you for a potential victim would end up getting his butt soundly kicked—by you.”

“You’re right. I would kick his butt,” she told him, the militant gleam in her eyes vanishing.

“I’m sure you would.”

“I’m glad you feel that way,” Laura replied. “So why don’t we just say goodbye now and you can go on back to your hotel room? I’ll be just fine.”

“I’m sure you will, but I won’t.” He hit the button for the elevator again, watched her wrinkle her brows. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m from the South,” he teased, exaggerating his drawl. “I’ve already gone against the code of the Southern gentleman by letting you convince me to just walk you to your car instead of seeing you home.”

“There isn’t any such code.”

“Of course there is,” Josh argued.

She eyed him skeptically. “Then how come I’ve never heard of it?”

“Because, my doubting Yankee, it’s a secret code that only men from the South know about.” The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Josh gestured for her to precede him, then followed her inside. “What floor?”

“Five,” she said. “Do you honestly expect me to believe that business about a secret code?”

He punched the number on the pad and the elevator doors slid shut, enclosing them in the small space. “Do you think I would make up such a thing?”

“What I think, Mr. Logan, is that you’re very good at spinning tales and turning on that Southern charm to get your way.”

Josh gave her a forlorn look. “There you go, slinging those arrows again.”

When Laura burst into laughter, he couldn’t help grinning in return. He liked the sound of her laughter, he realized. Almost as much as he liked the way her eyes sparkled and the way the dimple winked in her left cheek when she smiled. Suddenly itching to trace the tempting curve of her mouth with his finger, he shoved his hands into his pockets. The truth was there wasn’t much about Laura Harte that he didn’t like, Josh admitted, as he felt the sexual sparks that had been licking at him like flames all evening blaze into full-blown lust.

Lust he could handle, Josh told himself as the elevator continued its ascent. Back in New Orleans when he’d first seen Laura’s picture, he’d anticipated the sexual chemistry. She was a beautiful woman, and he’d always had a healthy appreciation of women. Thanks to the dossier he’d read on her and what details Olivia had given him, his curiosity about the unknown Jardine heiress had been peaked long before he’d ever met her. So neither his attraction nor his curiosity about Laura had come as a surprise. What had been surprising was that he genuinely liked Laura Harte—not just the attractive package, but the woman herself. It was a complication that he hadn’t counted on when he’d agreed to Olivia’s plan. And it was the reason, he acknowledged silently, that all afternoon and evening he had put off telling Laura the real purpose of his visit—Olivia Jardine and the Princess.

Way to go, Logan. For a man who prided himself on never allowing personal feelings to blindside him in business, he had screwed up royally this time. He just hoped it wasn’t too late to come clean with Laura and still salvage whatever was happening between them. The elevator stopped and he was grateful to be able to escape the intimacy of the confined space.

“Well, I guess this is it,” Laura said as she turned to face him.

“Where are you parked?”

“On the other side of the garage. But you don’t have to—”

“I thought we’d already discussed this,” he said lightly. “Which direction?”

She shot him a sidelong glance. “Funny. I don’t remember any discussion.”

“Sure you do. You agreed I would walk you to your car and save myself from getting booted out of the Southern gentleman’s union.”

“There is no such union,” she said, her lips twitching with laughter again.

“Are you willing to risk it and have my disgrace hanging over your head?”

“Whoever came up with the description of charming to describe Southern men forgot to mention that they were stubborn, too.” She sighed. “Come on. My car’s this way.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Josh said, and fell into step beside her. With his hand at her back, they started through the cavernous garage in the direction she’d indicated.

As they walked past row after row of cars of various makes and models, Josh was conscious of the shadows shifting along the garage’s walls and the echo of Laura’s heels as they clicked on the concrete flooring.

She stopped in front of a sleek blue convertible. “This is me,” she said, and after unlocking the door with the remote on her key ring, she turned to him. “Thank you again for dinner.”

“I’m the one who should be thanking you. I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed an evening so much.”

“Me, too,” she murmured.

The lighting was poor, but bright enough for him to see the glint of silver in her blue eyes, the satin smoothness of her skin. Desire kicked him in the gut as he stared at her lush mouth. He wanted to sample that ripe mouth, had been eager to taste it all evening.

“It’s getting late. I really should be going. So, I guess this is goodbye,” she said, and extended her hand.

Josh looked at the hand she held out to him. The smart thing for him to do was to shake hands, make arrangements to see her in the morning so that he could tell her about Olivia and say good-night.

“Josh?”

To hell with being smart, he decided. Going with impulse, he pulled her to him. Against him. Into him. He heard the quick hitch of her breath, saw her eyes turn cloudy. And then he swooped down and took her mouth.

She tasted just the way he’d imagined—hot and sweet, soft and strong. She made some primitive sound low in her throat. Protest or plea, Josh wasn’t sure which. He only knew that the desire for her that he’d managed to keep at simmer all afternoon and evening was now storming to a boiling point. And it showed no signs of slowing down.

Fusing his mouth to hers, he took.

So did she.

Tongues danced, mated. He filled himself with her scent, with her taste, with the explosion of her response. Still it wasn’t enough. He wanted more. He tore his mouth free, speared his fingers into the fiery hair that framed her face. When her lashes fluttered and she stared up at him out of eyes that were the color of smoke, desire delivered another one-two punch to his system. He would have to pay for this lapse in reasoning later. Josh didn’t have any doubt about that. But for now, for now he couldn’t bring himself to care what retribution awaited him—not when the taste, the scent, the feel of Laura in his arms was a fire burning hot in his blood.

Using his teeth, he nipped at the soft skin of her lips, her jaw, her neck. He sloped his hands down her sides, shaped her waist, her hips. And when she arched her body, pressed herself against his arousal, Josh groaned.

“This is insane,” she whispered, her hands racing over his shoulders, down his back, setting off new fires wherever she touched.

“Yes.” It was insane. He knew mixing business and pleasure was asking for trouble. And considering the stakes, to do so now with Laura could prove disastrous. He didn’t dare risk it. But oh how he wanted to. How he wished he could just say to hell with it and take what he wanted, what she was offering now.

“I should go,” she murmured against his lips even as she wound her arms around his neck, drove her fingers through his hair.

“All right.” He choked out the words and started to step back.

Laura yanked him by the hair and pulled his mouth back down to hers.

Hunger whipped through him lightning quick, driving every thought from his mind save one—Laura. He feasted on her mouth, groaned as her teeth scraped his lip. But her mouth wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. Breaking off the kiss, he captured her face between his palms. “I want you,” he confessed. “I’ve wanted you from the minute I set eyes on you.”

“I know. I know,” she said, her breathing as ragged as his. “It’s crazy. We hardly know each other.”

“Doesn’t matter.” All that mattered was this. All that mattered was now. Blinded by need, he reached for the zipper at the back of her dress. And he froze at the grumble of a car’s engine.

Sanity came slamming back to him in a rush as the headlights from an approaching car flashed on the wall behind them. Laura stiffened in his arms as the car turned off toward the exit lane and disappeared into the belly of the garage. When it was silent once more, Josh dragged in several breaths. He took a step back. “Laura, I—”

“Don’t,” she said, holding up a hand. She sucked in a few breaths of her own. “Whatever you do, don’t you dare apologize.”

“I have no intention of apologizing—especially since I’m not the least bit sorry.”

“I…um, right. That’s good, then. I guess.”

Unexpectedly moved by the flush of pink to her cheeks and the distress swimming in her eyes, something inside of him shifted, softened. “Laura, it was only a kiss.”

“I know that.” She looked down at the ground as though it held all the answers to the mysteries of the universe. She looked everywhere and at everything except him.

He tipped her chin up so that he could see her eyes. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. We’re two healthy adults who are attracted to each other.”

“I know. It’s just that I’m not very good at this sort of thing.”

“At kissing? You could have fooled me,” he teased.

“That’s not what I meant,” she said, more color flooding her cheeks. “I meant that I don’t usually end up crawling all over a man I’ve just met.”

“That’s good to hear, since I don’t usually end up necking in hotel parking lots with assistant general managers, either.”

She laughed as he’d hoped she would, then eased back a step. “I’d better go.”

Josh stooped down, retrieved her keys where they had fallen just behind her foot. He held them out to her. But when she reached for the keys, he held on to them. He stared at her, wished that things could be different, that she wasn’t Olivia Jardine’s granddaughter and that his regaining ownership of the Princess was not tied to her.

“Josh? You’re going to have to give me my keys. I need them to get home,” she said, her voice light, teasing.

“I want to see you again. Will you meet me for breakfast in the morning? There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

The smile slipped from her lips as she reclaimed her keys. “Listen, Josh, there’s no point in me denying that I’m attracted to you after what just happened. And I know Logan Hotels has a reputation of being a great firm to work for. But Nick Baldwin is not only my boss, he’s my friend. I thought he was your friend, too,” she said, her voice as cool as her eyes. “So if you want to see me again just so you can offer me a job, I can save us both some time and embarrassment and tell you right now that I’m not interested.”

“Nick is my friend,” he advised her, hurt that she would think he would stab his pal in the back by trying to steal his employee. “My wanting to see you isn’t about business. It’s personal.”

“I—I’m sorry. It was foolish of me to jump to that conclusion. I had no right to assume—”

He cut off her apology with a quick, hard kiss. “You had every right to jump to conclusions and assume just what you did. Now, is eight o’clock for breakfast too early?”

“No. But I have a meeting then. Could we make it for nine instead?”

“Nine o’clock is fine. I’ll meet you in the hotel’s dining room.”

“All right,” she said.

After opening her car door for her, he waited until Laura had started the engine and strapped on her seat belt. Then he tapped on her window. Frowning, she eased down the car’s window. “Did you forget something?”

“Just this.” Leaning through the window, he gave her a long, slow kiss. “Good night.”

“Good night,” she whispered.

For a long time after the taillights of the convertible had disappeared, Josh stood in the dimly lit garage and thought about the explosive kiss they’d shared. “Dammit, Logan,” he muttered as he stalked off toward the elevator. Laura Harte was forbidden fruit—Olivia Jardine’s granddaughter and the key to his regaining the Princess. He had no business lusting after her because lust had a way of messing up a man’s mind. So what if she kissed like a dream and just thinking about her had him rock-hard and aching? He’d get over it. No way did he intend to let a few hormones stand in the way of his plans. Laura Harte was a means to an end. Nothing more.

But later, much, much later, while he tossed and turned, unable to sleep, he kept remembering ghost-blue eyes dark with desire, the feel of satin-soft lips, the scent of flowers and sunshine.