Between You and Me(46)

It would have been longer, perhaps. But her father somehow caught wind  of why she'd changed her plans, and didn't like it. He'd sent his  people-security goons-to Milan to bring her home. The memory of those  three men, standing in her small flat, watching her pack her things,  still made her blood boil. She'd had no say in the matter. She'd barely  even been able to wish Paolo a tender but tearful goodbye, but at least  she'd been allowed that much. She'd never forget the way he caressed her  face and whispered sweet nothings in Italian against her ear as he  hugged her that last time.

They'd lost touch soon after she returned home. It hadn't been a great  love, but it had been an intense connection, and Tess had hoped it  wouldn't die out so fast. She figured he'd been turned off by her  father's interference and couldn't really blame him. It wasn't until  years later, after she got engaged to Brady, that she'd found out the  truth. Glad that she'd found someone suitable to marry, her father told  her how he'd threatened Paolo to make him stay away from her. Paolo had  been indignant, but Charles II had won. Their relationship had healed  and gotten past the whole debacle, but she'd never fully forgiven her  father for it.

There had been other incidents over the years, big and small. There had  been the way he treated her brothers as well, Pierce in particular. He  claimed everything he did was for the good of the family, out of love.  But the years of limitless power had warped his mind. She remembered him  being a loving father when she was very small . . . but that had been  before her parents' marriage had blown sky-high. Now, the bottom line  was: Charles Harrison II was controlling, egomaniacal, and ruthless. His  children, though grown, were like trophies as much as people. The heart  attack had softened him some. She'd seen that. But not enough. A  seventy-year-old leopard couldn't change his spots.

Now she wondered what he'd do if he found out her current plans and  didn't like them. Would he somehow shut down the clinic? Put Dr.  Fuller's career in jeopardy? Find Logan and threaten him within an inch  of his life? She took a long sip of water. Yeah, she had damn good  reason to keep her dreams and plans to herself.

She knew her brothers would never tell their father her plans if she  asked them not to. They were loyal to her above him, without question.  But . . . what if they didn't approve either? They all had their own  wives now, their own families. If they started with the maybe you just  haven't found the right person yet, give it more time crap, she'd pull  her hair out. Maybe she wasn't giving them enough credit. But she just  didn't want to argue or defend her position to anyone. She'd made this  decision on her own, and was handling it on her own. It was how it had  to be.

Because she knew what her brothers already knew, though none of them had  said it aloud. The Harrison money and power was as much of a curse as  it was a blessing. All the money in the world couldn't buy happiness, or  the love of your family. Their own parents were both walking proof of  that. Biggest cautionary tale ever.

The four siblings always stuck together, understanding one another in a  way outsiders simply couldn't. And all four of them had fought through  the murky parts to blaze their own paths to happiness-finding love,  creating family. Her three brothers had somehow found their happy  endings. It was her turn, dammit.

Logan had signed the initial papers waiving paternity rights. There'd be  more to sign once she was actually pregnant, but he'd been completely  agreeable every step of the way. And, if all went well, he was even  willing to freeze a few samples so later on, a year or two down the  road, she could give her child a sibling or two.                       
       
           



       

She'd given up on finding romantic love, but she could create a family  and have that joy, that bond, on her own. That was all she wanted now.  And she wasn't ready to share that with her brothers, or her father, or  anyone. For now, anyway.

Aspen had been a welcome retreat so far. Everything about it, from its  quiet natural beauty, to spending time with Logan, to painting and  reading and just . . . being on her own. The exhilaration and thrill of  leading her own life away from the watchful eyes of her family was  astonishing. The freedom . . . she'd never known how much she needed to  break away from the Harrison clan until she'd done it. Being a dutiful  daughter, a constant source of support as a sister, the face and  responsibility behind the Harrison Foundation . . . being away from it  all was revitalizing. A powerful renewal.

Movement outside caught her eye and she focused on it. A large, dark  bird soared above the trees, cutting through the bright blue sky. A  hawk? She narrowed her eyes and watched . . . No, it was an eagle. A  bald eagle. Her breath caught as she watched the magnificent bird sail  on the wind. Free to soar. She smiled as she watched him fly.

* * *

Tomorrow was Valentine's Day. Fuck. Again Logan raked his hands through  his hair as he thought about it. Tess hadn't mentioned anything . . . He  wasn't sure if he should do anything; they weren't a real couple. But  an agreed-to bargain or not, they were sleeping together. A lot. And  mutually enjoying it. And enjoying each other as friends. Not to mention  if he didn't do anything, his mom would be suspicious.

Doing a little something for Tess couldn't hurt, right? He was surprised  to find that he wanted to. Best of all, since she hadn't brought it up,  she likely wasn't expecting anything. So that would be fun too, to  surprise her.

He was out on a work call, on the other side of Red Mountain. He had  wood to chop up for the Andersons, but texted her before he could  rethink it. Hey there, Long Island Lady. Hoping you don't have dinner  plans for tomorrow night? Then he picked up his axe, swinging with  precise movements. He savored the burn in his shoulders, his arms, and  the muscles in his back as he took in lungfuls of cold, fresh air and  chopped at the logs in the snow.

It was a good workout. He'd just started to break a sweat when his phone  buzzed in his pocket. But he set down the axe, curious to see Tess's  answer. She'd responded: I have no plans for tomorrow night, Thor. I was  thinking you were just going to come over and try to get me knocked up.

He burst out laughing, then texted back: Can I do that after a nice  dinner? It IS Valentine's Day. If I don't take my best fake girlfriend  out, Mom will be suspicious.

Good point. Yes, dinner would be lovely. She sent a wink emoji, then  added, I'll dress up pretty for you, valentine style. One sexy red  dress, coming up.

Oh man, he wrote, his blood racing at the thought. Well then, while  you're at it, consider this my official request for lingerie underneath.  If not on Valentine's, then when?



Request granted. I'm on it.

Best news I've heard all day.

You know, we'll probably have a better Valentine's Day than most real  couples have. No stilted silences, guaranteed sex at the end of the  night . . . We win!





He laughed again. Her sense of humor never failed to delight him, and  her vibrant personality . . . It had put some light into his life. She  brought light to his dark. He was grateful for that. Smiling, he texted  back, We SO win.

When he got to her door the next evening, he realized he was more than  relaxed, he was almost . . . chipper. Maybe a bounce in his step. He was  looking forward to a nice night ahead. It was great to be able to spend  Valentine's Day with a woman who wasn't expecting anything from him but  companionship, a good meal, and hot sex. Not just any woman, but a  genuinely amazing woman, one he liked more with each day. Tess was . . .  special. A rare gem. He wanted the night to be nice for her. She  deserved that.

So when she opened the door and her eyes lit up at his offering, he felt  like he'd scored a slam dunk. "Oh, Logan . . ." She smiled brightly as  she looked over the enormous bouquet of two dozen red roses. "These are  gorgeous."                       
       
           



       

"Just like you." He hadn't wanted to go the dozen-red-roses route; it  seemed too cliché for a woman as classy as Tess. At first, he'd asked  the florist to mix together different types of red flowers, but it  looked a little odd. So, two dozen roses, then.

He followed her inside as she said over her shoulder, "Let me just put these in water, and then we can go."

His eyes greedily traveled over the tight red wrap dress that clung to  her body. Long sleeves, low V-neck, it accentuated every graceful angle  and curve. Falling above the knee, it also showcased her knockout legs  down to her red stilettos. He let out a long, low whistle of  appreciation. "You . . . that dress. Wow."