Something in his gut churned. He'd always thought her to not be one of the mega-rich mega-snobs. He'd pegged her as not entitled, and kinder, an exception to the rule. Man, did he hate being wrong on this one. It stung more than he thought it should. But he schooled his features into neutrality. "Ahhh. I see. You didn't think a big lumberjack type like me would be so highly educated, huh?"
"I didn't mean it like that," she said, but her face started to bloom hot pink.
"Uh-huh." His temper flared, but he kept his voice cool. "Well. Hate to burst your bubble, but I actually graduated summa cum laude."
He watched her marine-blue eyes widen a bit as the color bloomed in her face, betraying her.
"Logan, I didn't mean to imply you were-" She visibly cringed, and he took some comfort in that. "God, that must have sounded . . . It's obvious you're a smart man, but I didn't think you'd have a master's, that's all."
"Because I'm a house manager for a living? Careful, Miss Harrison," he said slowly. He grinned, a hollow one, and couldn't help himself from adding, "Your blue blood's showing."
That blood flooded her face, but she didn't look away. "Again, I really didn't mean it like it sounded. But if that's how you perceived it, I apologize. That came across as horribly judgmental, and I'm very sorry."
He shook his head, his grin leisurely, belying the burn he felt in his chest. "Don't sweat it."
"No, I am sweating it. You were right, I made an unfair assumption. I'm sorry." She peered up at him more closely. "But I admit it, now I'm curious. How'd a guy with a master's in social work end up being a house manager for a living? Must be an interesting journey there. I'd love to hear it."
"No, you wouldn't." He hadn't meant to sound churlish, but it came out as something of a growl. "Trust me."
"Um . . . okay." She looked sheepish, wide-eyed. His sharp words had been a reprimand, clearly not what she'd expected, and she blinked before clearing her throat. "I'll let you get back to work."
That was last March, almost a year ago, and it still burned his ass when he thought of it. He'd always thought she wasn't uppity and haughty like most of the super-wealthy clients he had. Between that incorrect assessment and the tiny crush he'd always harbored, her disparaging words had stung, left a bad taste in his mouth. She'd gone back home two days after that, so they hadn't discussed it again-he hadn't even seen her, only talked to her briefly on the phone about how he'd close the house up. And when he'd gotten there, the house feeling empty without her presence, he'd found a cream-colored envelope on the granite kitchen counter with his name on it. She'd left two crisp hundred-dollar bills for him, a generous and unnecessary tip that was likely more about assuaging her guilt than his skills, which had only served to leave him even more agitated.
Plain and simple, he'd been disappointed-both that he'd thought her to be different, and that he'd been wrong about her. Hell, she'd apologized immediately, and seemed truly mortified that she'd insulted him, and he believed her when she said she hadn't meant to insult him at all. But the damage was done; it'd changed how he thought of her.
Now, as if on cue, he heard activity outside. Running a hand through his hair and over his beard, Logan went to meet his formerly favorite client.
Opening the front door, he waved as he made his way down the steps to the driveway to meet the sleek black Escalade parked there. The driver was already at the back, pulling suitcases out, and Logan heard the familiar yippy bark of Bubbles, Tess's Maltese, from inside the truck. A grin curved his lips. He couldn't help it, he liked that dog. She was spunky and cute as could be.
"How's it goin', Clay?" Logan said to the chauffeur with a quick handshake.
"Hey, Carter! Goin' fine, thanks. You?" Clay asked as he grabbed another suitcase.
"Fine. Here, let me help you with those."
"Nah, I've got 'em." Clay hauled out the last bag. "I'll take these straight into the foyer."
"If you insist. Door's open. Good to see you."
"You too. Take care."
Logan turned to see Tess emerge from the truck, and his breath caught. Damn. Seeing her never failed to stir something inside him. She was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen with his own eyes, anywhere, ever. Her dark corkscrew curls tumbled down the back of her red parka, almost to her very fine ass. Standing tall at five-foot-ten, her height may have intimidated other men, but since Logan was six-four, he liked that he didn't have to look too far down to talk to her. Her willowy body was made to glide and strut down a catwalk, but she'd likely dismiss the notion. Those long, long legs were encased in black leggings and knee-high black leather boots, and he admired them as discreetly as possible. He'd always been a leg man, and her shapely, graceful ones were out of this world.
Finally he met her eyes. Those brilliant blues were sparkling, and she was smiling as she approached him. She always looked happy, or at least content-he didn't think he'd ever seen her in a bad mood. To him, her friendly personality made her as beautiful as her physical appearance; women like that were rare.
He took a deep breath and shook himself mentally. This woman sometimes put him under a spell. Apparently, even though he hadn't seen her in almost a year, and he didn't think of her as sweetly as he once had, her magic over him hadn't changed.
He cleared his throat and grinned. "Hi, Tess. Good to see you."
"It's good to see you too!" She went right to him, stopping only a few steps away. Her dog wiggled in the cradle of her arms, yipping and wagging her tiny tail. "Hope you had a good Christmas."
"It was nice, thank you," Logan said. "Quiet." Just him and his mom, at her house. He'd made them dinner since she was too weak from radiation, and they'd watched It's a Wonderful Life and White Christmas, as was their tradition. "You had a good Christmas too, I hope?"
"I did, thanks." She turned at the sound of Clay slamming the trunk closed.
"All set, Miss Harrison," he said, moving around the truck to climb back in.
"Wait . . ." she said.
Logan watched her walk to Clay, heard her thank him and discreetly slip him what Logan was sure was a generous tip. Clay smiled and laughed at something she said, raised a hand in parting to Logan, and drove down the long, winding driveway.
She went back to Logan and said, "I'm glad to see you here, but a bit surprised. Were you waiting for me?"
"I was," he said. "Just to make sure you got settled in all right. You said it was a spur-of-the-moment trip when you called, so . . ." He lifted a hand to rub the head of the eight-pound dog squirming in her arms. "Hey, Bubbles. Hello, you tiny princess."
The dog barked and licked his hand, squirming even harder.
"Thank you for waiting," Tess said. "You didn't have to. I'm sure you're busy, I know it's the busy season here." Her breath escaped in white puffs.
"No problem at all." Logan waved a dismissive hand. "More bags than usual, I noticed. How long are you staying?"
"Actually, I'm not sure." She shifted the dog in her arms for a better hold. "Definitely until the end of February, possibly longer. I'll see. For once in my life, I'm playing it by ear."
"Really." Logan's eyes widened a bit and his brows lifted. The longest any of the Harrisons had stayed for a visit had been for two weeks. Curiosity pricked him.
"Mm-hmm." She grinned and added, "So you'll be seeing more of me, I suppose."
"I have no problem with that," Logan said. "C'mon, let's get you both inside, it's cold out." Shoving his hands into the pockets of his ski jacket, he stepped aside to let her walk before him. He couldn't help but admire the sway of her hips and her long, long hair as she moved. His eyes ran up and down those long, gorgeous legs. She'd be in Aspen for two months, maybe longer? That bit of interesting news had brightened his day. Maybe his whole week. In spite of how he had his guard up around her, there were few women he enjoyed looking at more than Tess Harrison.
Chapter Three
Tess set Bubbles down as soon as they stepped through the door. The dog took off, skittering across the polished hardwood floor and barking happily. The warmth of the house was a wonderful contrast to the cold outdoors; Tess pulled off her leather gloves and opened her coat. She hadn't been there since last March, and she looked around with a smile as she took it in, the familiar space a comfort. The door closed behind her and she turned to gaze at her house manager, who flashed an amiable grin as he stepped toward her.