Saint (A Dark Mafia Romance)(93)

And just like that, the spell shatters, and I realize it’s not some dream guy I’m inches away from kissing right here in his office.

It’s Logan fucking Dempsey. The polar opposite of my dream guy.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that.

But I’m shoving the voice in my head aside and then pushing away from Logan. My wide, doe-eyed stare turning to a scowl as I realize how close I came to just making the mistake all over again.

“Looks like some things are exactly what they look like on the outside, Logan.” I hiss, yanking my hand away from him.

I turn sharply on my heel and storm away before he can even open his mouth.





Chapter Seven





Logan




In a perfect world, it’d just be me and Quinn sitting on this plane tonight. Okay, in a perfect world we’d be doing a whole lot more than sitting, but I digress. In any case, a perfect world this is not, so instead I’m also stuck on my jet with two guys from our finance team and Peyton.

Quinn’s turned away from me and looking out the window, and as I catch myself staring at her, I also find myself weighing out the risks of what’s going on here. Whatever the nature of our, well, whatever this little train wreck of two people is, her even being around me is dangerous. Because of the fights, because of my past, and because of who I am. I’m like a fuckin magnet for violence, and it should go without saying that being around Quinn isn’t a good idea.

Of course, neither is sleeping with her, for that matter.

She clears her throat across the cabin from me, and I suddenly focus and realize I’ve just been staring at her and she’s busted me for it. There’s a hint of a grin on her face, as if she’s amused that she’s caught me like that, but then she rolls her eyes and looks away. Peyton is talking to me about God knows what, and I frown as I realize her hand is on my arm just about the same time Quinn catches the gesture and scowls at it. I excuse myself as politely as I can, leaving Quinn, Peyton, and the finance guys to continue going over some of the finer points of the contract.

As amusing as it is seeing Quinn Archer get all jealous and angsty - and it really is - I need to clear my head, and it's tough going while cooped on a plane with her.



I step out of the bathroom in the back of the jet directly into Quinn. I freeze at the contact, feeling her body pressed against mine in the tight confines of the galley space by the back of the plane, and I can see her eyes go wide and her face go flushed as her breath catches in her throat.

She clears her throat. “Let me get by.”

“Relax, I’m trying.” But I’m not. At least, not that hard. I’m enjoying being this close to her too much, and I’m definitely enjoying the way I can see her pupils get wider and the way that adorable pink flushes across her cheeks.

Her mouth is half open, and she closes it with a snap as her eyes narrow at me. “Your little games aren’t cute, Logan.”

“What games?” I say as innocently as possible, trying and failing to hold back the grin on my face.

“Trying to rile me up. Those games.” She hisses, her eyes darting toward the front of the plane where the others are sitting with their backs to us, as if she’s worried how this might look with us being pressed together in the tight confines of the hallway.

“Listen, cute stuff, if I wanted to rile you up, you’d know it.”

She almost smiles as she rolls her eyes. “Oh please.”

“Is that a request?” I shrug. “OK.”

She gasps as I push her hard against the door to the galley kitchen behind her, letting my body press flat against her curves. I’m calling her bluff. Daring her to back down here, and I think she knows it even if she won’t play the game back. Her eyes flare with a fire in them and her chest hitches with her breath. Just that simple sound of her quiet gasp suddenly has me rock-hard in my pants, and that I know she knows about.

She shakes her head slowly. “I’m not falling for this kind of bullshit, Logan. Your little games aren’t working.”

I smirk as I let my eyes drop to the front of her shirt, seeing the telling outlines of her hard nipples poking beneath the fabric there. “Oh aren't they?”

She blushes bright red. “I’m not falling for that again.” She says quietly.

“Falling for what?” I growl lowly, leaning into her.

“That charm.”

“Oh so you do think I’m charming.”

I’m leaning even closer when she lets her breath out and rolls her eyes again, like the moment just faltered. “I think you’re delusional, and I told you, that isn't happening again.”

I move back from her. “Who said I want it to? You’re the one getting all hot and bothered around me.”