“Don’t go,” Logan says simply.
“Why? I mean nothing to you.” I’m surprised by the hurt in my voice. He shouldn’t care about me. This was just supposed to be fun and games. No strings attached. It’s not his fault that I’ve reneged on the contract and am wanting more out of this.
Logan looks like he’s about to say something, something that he’s been badly wanting to say, but he swallows it back. “That’s not true at all, Rose.”
“Then why?” I ask. “Why can’t you… say that… that this is going somewhere?”
Logan stares at me for a long time and I wait with bated breath. “We just need to give it time,” he says finally. “I just don’t think you fully know what you’re getting into.”
What the hell is that supposed to mean?
“What do you mean by that?” I ask warily. “I know exactly what we’re doing. And I know where it’s headed. Or in your case, not headed.”
Logan looks at me, and I see pain in his eyes. “I understand,” he says finally in a grave voice.
It shatters my heart that he can’t give an inch. Especially when I just opened up to him like that.
He takes my hand and pulls me close, and I’m enveloped by the heat of his hot body. I don’t want to move away. I want the comfort. I need it.
“You just need to relax, and live in the moment. I want you. I don’t want you to leave. Not yet.” The pained look in his eyes is replaced by a desire that’s hard to resist.
“But what-” I begin to protest, but he kisses me on the lips to smother it.
“Just give in, Rose,” he whispers, slowly bringing his lips down to my neck and nibbling softly.
Every cell in my body is telling me to push him off me and demand that he tell me why he’d rather pretend this situation is going to get any better, but I’m overcome by his advance. I tilt my head back and my lips part into a soft groan as his hands move up my thigh.
“We don’t need tomorrow,” he murmurs, delivering another scorching hot kiss to my neck while undoing my skirt, “just tonight.”
Chapter 24
Logan
I take another look at my phone as the driver pulls up to Charlotte’s new place, the temporary housing I arranged for her. It’s been nearly two weeks. And more than half the time, she’s stayed at my place. She’s staying here tonight. Her decision, not mine. I’m glad she’s the one who brought it up. She can’t come back with me tonight, but luckily I didn’t have to tell her.
She’s typing away on her laptop as we drive to her place. Busy with her new ventures in the marketing research department. She’s doing well. I glance up at her as the faint sound of her tapping on the keys stops. She leans back and reads whatever it is she wrote out, or maybe something else, I’m not sure.
She looks so beautiful though. Her hair is down from the ponytail it was in and it flows in soft curls over her shoulder. There’s still a faint blush to her cheeks from our earlier adventure in the office. She’s becoming a bad habit of mine. Although Trent seems to think I’m more amicable now that something’s changed. He obviously knows judging by the way he smiles when she knocks on my door.
I look back at my phone. There are other people who know, too.
I should tell her about the photo and the message. There’s nothing in the photo that’s scandalous, nothing that’s harmful. Just a picture of the two of us leaving Parker-Moore. She’s walking beside me as we approach the limo out front. Anger rises within me. I don’t like her being watched. I don’t like her having a target on her back.
She deserves to know. But I don’t want to give her a reason to stay away. She’s right to be cautious. But not for this reason. Not for some asshole who thinks I’m screwing the secretary. She’s not a secretary and her position here has nothing to do with this.
It’s an innocent enough photo, but the message is what pisses me off. And the fact that someone thinks they can fuck with me. I just don’t know who. I will though. Maybe then I’ll tell her.
She seems to only just now notice that the limo has stopped. She shuts her laptop and slips it into her bag, unbuckling her seat belt and getting ready to leave me.
As she double checks that she has everything, including a dry cleaning bag of three of her outfits she’s left at my place, she gives me a small smile and grips everything in her hands.
“I’ll go with you,” I offer.
“No, don’t,” she says stubbornly, “I’ve got this.” She leans forward and plants a kiss on my lips and pulls back slowly. At the same time my phone beeps and vibrates in my hand with a text.