She twitched her shoulders. “So ask.”
“Are you okay?”
“Never better.”
Logan kissed her lips. “You know, we really should get off this couch.”
“Don’t you dare.” Her arm wrapped around his neck, holding him in a tight vise. “I like it right here.”
“At least let me...” He shifted his weight off her and lay on his back, pinning her on her side between him and the back of the couch. “That’s better,” he said, pulling the conveniently placed throw over their naked, cooling bodies.
“It’s nice.”
With her cheek resting on his shoulder and her body a curvy miracle half-draped over him, Logan closed his eyes and wondered when he’d enjoyed such contentment. Usually he was a burn-the-candle-at-both-ends kind of guy. He spent most of his days overseeing his company’s massive operations here in Las Vegas and his evenings dreaming up better technology to keep his clients’ assets safe.
Taking time for a personal life had been a low priority. Sure, he dated. A guy had needs. But he wasn’t one to linger after a nice dinner and some satisfying sex. He never exactly bolted for the door, but he certainly didn’t stick around long enough to snuggle.
This experience with Scarlett was much different. He was at peace. Delighted to hold her in his arms until the sun came up, watching her sleep or talking. Was it crazy that they argued about everything but blended seamlessly the instant they kissed? Would their differing points of view eventually taint their lovemaking?
It was no surprise that Logan was already thinking in terms of endings. Didn’t he enter every relationship with an eye on how and when it would end? Perhaps it wasn’t fair to the women he saw that he perceived their time together as finite, but his perspective was realistic. Even nine-year relationships ended. That his fiancée could choose her career over him had struck a devastating blow. One he wasn’t going to let happen again.
And he needed to be more wary than ever because slipping into sleep beside him was the first woman since Elle who had the potential to catch him off guard.
Seven
Humming happily, Scarlett dived into the clear, cool water of the private pool located on the same floor as her private suite. She loved to swim, and tried to spend at least thirty minutes in the morning doing laps. If she had a little more time, she floated across the dappled surface and enjoyed the lush vegetation planted around the pool deck.
She ached in all sorts of muscles this morning. Making love on a couch was just the sort of thing she might have expected from Logan. Waking up to his soft kisses and hard erection had been a nice surprise. If she’d been asked to bet how he’d behave in the cold light of a Las Vegas dawn, she would have put her money on him returning to his impatient, bad-tempered self. And she would have lost every cent.
Not only did he wake up aroused. He was playful in the morning. And unexpectedly romantic. For a woman who was used to being treated like some sort of trophy, Logan’s willingness to make her coffee and feed her orange slices had given her hope that she wasn’t simply a conquest.
Her happy glow persisted through the rest of the morning. At noon she headed to her office, where reality intruded. The script Bobby had promised to send sat in the middle of her desk. She tore open the package and scanned the short note he’d included. Even though she’d already decided against auditioning, there was no stopping the excitement that rushed through her. New scripts meant new opportunities and so few had come her way in the past few years.
Although she had no intention of returning to Hollywood and told herself it was foolish to get worked up about the project, she cleared her afternoon schedule and read the entire script twice. The writing was really good. The story fresh and daring. It was the exact thing she’d longed to do, but no one would give her a chance.
Almost as if on cue, as soon as she completed her second pass, her cell rang. It was Bobby. She set the pages aside.
“Well?” He sounded confident and smug as if he already knew what her reaction would be. “Aren’t you perfect?”
“I don’t know if I’m perfect,” she hedged, struggling to keep enthusiasm out of her voice. “But it’s a wonderful script and it’s going to be a great show.”
“Then you’ll come and test?”
Here was where she had to face reality. “I really can’t. I live in Las Vegas now. I’m responsible for this hotel. I can’t just abandon everything and run off to L.A. because of a great part.” Besides, there was no guarantee that she’d get the role, and being rejected for something so perfect for her would be a devastating blow.