One Sizzling Night(10)

He shrugged. “You got me there.”

“I think you’re the one who got me,” she muttered, and thought about stepping back. They were standing awfully close. But the hell with that. She wouldn’t be the one to chicken out. He’d been about to kiss her. She hadn’t gotten that part wrong. So what happened?

“I’m sorry,” he said, the laugh lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes contradicting his words. “I think my ego needed a boost after seeing what you can do. Talk about a yoga master.”

“I’m not that special. I’ve been doing it for a long time.”

He shook his head as he leaned in her direction. “I’ve been cooking for a long time. Doesn’t make me a chef. You had to work damn hard to do that.”

“When I’m not going to fancy conferences, I work with incredibly expensive art. I need to be ready for anything.”

“Anything?”

Still smarting from his slick move, she said, “So, you learned that in the military, huh? Was that special ops?” She hadn’t thrown him off-balance as she’d hoped. “Or was it black ops?”

Bingo.

He didn’t even blink. In fact, his expression hardly changed. Yet he managed to make her wish with all her heart she could take back the stupid taunt. His guard had gone up as swiftly as the words had fallen from her lips. She’d never seen anything like it. The change in him had a little to do with his eyes, and some to do with his posture, but it was much more than that.

She was looking at the soldier. Neil was right. Logan wasn’t a man to be messed with.

He’d bested her in a stupid contest that had no meaning, and she’d made everything worse by throwing down the gauntlet. Damn it, if he thought she’d been poking around his background, he could start poking back. Someone like him might have the resources to find out about her father.

She had to do something. And not just because the tense silence was doing a number on her.

“I was nervous about sharing the place with a strange man,” she said, offering him a smile and her most relaxed voice. “So Sam told me you’d been in special ops, and I figured it was okay that I knew or she wouldn’t have said anything.” It wasn’t completely accurate, what she’d said. Neil had been the one to tell her about special ops, but she wanted Logan to relax so they could get off this topic.

Kensey touched his muscled arm and knew she’d screwed up badly when he didn’t react to her touch as he had before. “I’m sorry if I upset you. Today I heard a lot of reps in the gun booths bragging about how special-ops soldiers use their brand. I didn’t think it was a secret. Although, yeah, there had been a lot of talk about the ID of SEAL Team Six, so...”

“It’s not a secret,” Logan said just as she’d given up hope that he’d ever speak to her again. “I use my experience to drum up business. And I make it known that I hire other special-ops vets. No big deal.” He stepped back, effectively dislodging her hand from his arm. “So, what’s for dinner?”

“Oh, about that...” She sighed, glad to change the subject. Not that she thought this was over. This man staring at her was a different Logan. Most people probably wouldn’t notice the slight edginess to his smile. But she was good at reading people. Something else she’d learned from her father. And dammit, if she wanted to prove his innocence, she had to stop baiting Logan and focus on why she was there. “I’m not cooking. We can go out for dinner, or order something to be delivered. Either way, my treat.”

“Ah, man. I was looking forward to a home-cooked meal.”

“Trust me, there is nothing in that fridge that will resemble your idea of home cooking.”

“Too fancy for you?” Logan’s grin made him look more like himself. Or at least more like the Logan he’d wanted her to see from the beginning. She needed to remember he had that ability. She had the same gift.

“It all comes with directions,” he said, his voice easy and gently teasing. “I actually recognized some of it.”

“Good.” Moving away from him caused a bit of a tug in her chest. But this was for the best. She had one job here in Boston. One. As appealing as he was, Logan wasn’t it. “Put your cooking where your mouth is. But make it snappy because I’m starving. Also, I need to shower and change clothes, so why don’t—”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the kitchen. “You look great. What was the food that made you throw in the towel?”

She raised both eyebrows.

“What?”

“You had to bring up the towel?”

He choked out a laugh. “I didn’t even think— But now that you mention it...”

She turned away from the arousal darkening his eyes and opened the freezer door. That glimpse of Logan’s dangerous side had turned her on but she couldn’t let herself go in that direction. The frigid air did little to cool her down but the overwhelming amount of food inside somewhat distracted her. In her freezer, she had an ice maker, a roasting chicken and ice cream in a few different flavors. That was it. “That one.” She pointed to a white package.

“Duck rillettes?” Logan frowned. “What is that?”

“I have no idea. Do ducks really have a part on them that are called rillettes?”

Logan shook his head and moved closer so he could see better. So that they were touching. Again. Only this time, she pressed against his shoulder and seconds later, he pressed against her hip. He felt warm where he touched her. Her bare thighs rubbed against his jeans, and the frigid air made her nipples harden.

She wondered if the air had the same effect on him. She couldn’t see his nipples through his shirt, and freezing air wasn’t going to harden anything down south.

He turned over the package, looking as if he was settling in for the evening. Maybe he really did want that home-cooked meal.

Or maybe this was a way to relax her defenses. A clever way for him to find out what she knew about him.

Then again, he might be wondering the same thing about her. And he wouldn’t be wrong. Not completely. She had been trying to find out more about him. Was he a safe haven or a rocky shoal? It would be stupid to think of him as either. To think of him at all.

The thought made her feel ridiculously sad.

“According to this,” he said, “it’s duck that’s been smoked and shredded with duck fat, salt and pepper, and meant to be slathered over stuff. And eaten with a side of pickles.”

It didn’t appeal to her in the least. Gourmet it might be, but she’d never been a foodie, and that wasn’t going to change now. “We’re ordering out.”

They were still touching. He had to lean sideways to look at her. “You’re giving up that easily?”

“Yep.” She closed the freezer door and saw his gaze drop to her chest. Right where her nipples poked the fabric of her tank top. “There are menus from a bunch of places that deliver,” she said. “Thai, Mexican, deli, Indian.” She moved to the pantry and grabbed the stack of menus from a pouch on the inside of the door. “Unless you’d rather go out. Going out is fine.” Probably better, now that she thought about it.

The effort it took for him to look her in the eyes and not ogle her breasts made her bite back a laugh.

“No, let’s stay in.” He got a beer out of the fridge and popped the can open.

“You sure? Boston has some great restaurants.”

“I’m sure it does. But going out? Not crazy about the idea.” Angled away from her, he took a gulp. Then wiped his mouth. “Sorry. You want one?”

She shook her head and did her own shifting to hide the front of her tank. “We should place an order, then shower while we wait for the food.”

He glanced at her, one brow lifted.

“I meant...separately. Of course.”

Logan shrugged, looking as if he disagreed. About which part, though? “If you insist,” he said, finally turning toward her.

Well, damn if she hadn’t been wrong about the effects of an open freezer on a man’s ability to get hard.

“Tell you what,” he said, and she forced her gaze up to his face. “You order something while I make a quick call. Okay?”

She nodded, then jerked her gaze up again. “Yes. Fine. Go.”

He couldn’t seem to leave fast enough.

She watched him until he turned the corner, and steadied herself against the nearest countertop. Truth was, the train had left the station. For both of them. Heading in only one direction. She just hoped they weren’t in for an epic wreck.

* * *

“CALL SAM.”

He only had to wait a few seconds for her to pop up on the wall. But then she told him to hang on. He immediately thought about Kensey. Not the part where he wanted to pull her into his bed and not let her go till morning. He wanted to know why she’d asked him about black ops.

People didn’t just think of black ops. Which meant she knew something about him, but what? No regular search engine would connect him with anything on the CIA side. And the only other person who knew was Lisa. So, what the hell? Besides, why would anyone start to dig? He could understand Holstrom trying to find out whatever he could, but why would Kensey bother?