by Anna Durand
Before our budding conversation could wilt into uncomfortable silence, the food arrived. We moved to the table by the window and dug in. God, it was so good. I hadn't eaten much last night, despite ordering room service. The silent treatment from Logan had left me a bit nauseous. Arguing with him might be a great tool for dieting, but I didn't like the way we'd left things.
I didn't get a chance to bring up the topic of yesterday. He beat me to it.
He stabbed his fork into a waffle and tore off a piece, peeking up at me through his lashes while he consumed the food. "About yesterday...I'm sorry."
"Me too. I shouldn't have slapped you."
"I deserved it. Today will be different. I've come to a decision, and I know what I need to do to set things right."
"That's it? You're not going to explain your behavior?"
"Later. We need to eat and head to the conference."
We ate in silence, rode to the conference center in silence, and didn't speak to each other again until we had entered the venue. I stopped us partway across the cavernous lobby.
He arched a brow at me.
I handed him a piece of paper with handwritten text on it. "I worked out which seminars and workshops we should attend." I pointed at the paper. "The ones written in blue are yours, the red ones are mine."
"What do you mean yours and mine? We're attending these torture sessions together."
"It's more efficient to split up. We'll get more done."
"Evan was very clear when he said I'm to attend the seminars and workshops with you."
"This way is better."
"No, it's not." He angled toward me, his expression one of mock seriousness. "You can't leave me all alone."
That humor, the snarky kind that always made me want to hit him or kiss him or both, had returned to his voice. Whatever had spurred his behavior yesterday, he'd clearly gotten over it this morning.
"Let me guess," I said. "You'll be lost and confused without me."
"Aye."
"You're a big boy, Logan. I think you'll survive."
He moved closer, dipping his head to whisper in my ear. "Are you willing to risk it? If I get lost and starve to death because you weren't there, you might feel guilty."
"Uh-huh." I fought to sound calm and unaffected even while his breaths tickled my earlobe. "Maybe you need therapy. This fear of getting lost seems to be worse than before."
"Let's stay together, Serena. For safety's sake."
"Fine, whatever." I fiddled with my notepad as an excuse to step away from him. "Let's go."
We walked down the hall to the room where our first seminar would take place and strolled down the aisle that bisected the rows of plastic chairs set up inside the room. I planned on sitting in the front row, in the hopes that might deter Logan from trying any hanky-panky, but he seized my hand and half dragged me down the third row from the back. We wound up in the corner farthest from the aisle and from the podium where the speaker would stand.
Logan gestured for me to sit down.
I plopped onto the chair.
He started to move like he was about to sit on my lap.
"Hey!" I gave him a solid shove. "Get your own seat."
"But I need comforting. This room is so large and confusing."
"Honestly, Logan." I pointed at the seat beside mine. "Sit down. In your own chair."
"If you insist." He settled onto his chair. "I can see why Evan likes Keely to talk to him in her schoolteacher voice. The way you spoke to me just now makes me want to do all sorts of filthy things to you."
"No sex talk. No flirting. No anything that might in any way, shape, or form resemble dating behavior." I crossed my legs and clenched my list of seminars so tightly the paper crinkled. "Neither of us wants a relationship."
Why did I feel slightly nauseous when I said that? It was crazy. My need to get to know him had evaporated after his performance yesterday. Yes, one hundred percent gone. I did not want more than sex with Logan, and I didn't even want that anymore.
Okay, maybe I wanted it. But I would not indulge my lust.
"Are you sure about that?" he asked.
For a second, I thought he'd read my naughty thoughts. But of course, he was talking about the relationship issue. Had he changed his mind about that? No, he wouldn't.
Had I changed my mind? Again? Vacillating had become my default state these days. Logan confused the fuck out of me.
I laid the paper on my thigh and flattened my palm over it. "Let's focus on the seminar, please."
"But I like talking about sex with you. It makes your cheeks turn a bonnie pink."
"Shush. I said no flirting, so do what I tell you."
He leaned toward me, not quite close enough for his breaths to tickle my ear. "Aye, there's definitely something to the schoolteacher voice."
For the rest of the day, we attended workshops together. Logan flirted, in his odd way, and I ignored it. If he wanted me to act like Keely and keep telling him to behave, I was not going to indulge that fantasy. After the last seminar at four o'clock, Logan and I walked back to the hotel. When we reached our adjacent suites, he informed me he needed to "take care of a few things" and disappeared into his room.
I retreated into mine and kicked my shoes off. I had just stripped down to my slip and underwear when a strange noise drew my attention to the door.
Someone had slid an envelope under it.
Yanking the door open, I stuck my head out and checked left and right. Nobody there. I shut the door and snatched up the unsealed envelope, which had my name written on it in a confident, elegant hand. The envelope held a single sheet of thick ivory paper. Sliding it out, I unfolded the sheet.
"Be ready at eight," it said. "Wear something nice."
Logan had signed the note.
Part of me wanted to stomp over to his suite, bang on the door, and demand he explain. The rest of me, the much larger part, wanted to find out what he had up his sleeve. The idea of a mysterious assignation was exciting.
He had told me to wear something nice. I hadn't brought anything other than conference-appropriate clothes, all slacks and sensible shoes. The hotel had a boutique downstairs, but since Evan had set us up in the swankiest hotel in Seattle, I knew anything I bought here would cost a fortune. Well, Evan had finagled this weekend with Logan. He could pay for me to buy a new dress.
I called Keely to confirm it was okay. She said, "Spend an obscene amount of money. That's an order. We have billions of dollars, honey, go wild." The question of whether Evan would've agreed with that order was answered when he hollered in the background, "Aye, go wild." I couldn't fathom what it would be like to be married to a billionaire. Being the friend of one was bizarre enough.
At three minutes to eight, I sat in my room dressed in a new, outrageously expensive outfit and waited for Logan.
Precisely at eight o'clock, he knocked on the door.
I swung it open, and almost tripped over my own feet, even though I hadn't taken even one tiny step.
Logan wore a kilt, fashioned from the blue MacTaggart clan tartan, with black boots and socks. From the waist down, he was all Scottish. From the waist up, he was modern chic, with a black suit jacket and crisp white dress shirt, and a tie to boot.
Holy heaven, he looked incredible.
Logan offered me his hand. "Come, lass. We have a reservation."
"Where? Why?"
He smiled and chuckled. "At a restaurant, for our first date."
I gazed into his hazel eyes, my body suddenly warm and relaxed and tingly. A date with Logan? We'd both said we didn't want that. Yet here, tonight, I wanted it more than anything.
"For one night," he said, "can we not overanalyze? Let's enjoy spending time together and let the rest work itself out. If after dinner you don't want to be with me, I won't ask you for a date again."
He was still holding his hand out.
I laid my palm in his.
> "You look stunning, Serena," he said as he clasped my hand and led me down the hallway. "You're the most beautiful woman on earth, and that's not a line. It's the truth."
I couldn't think of a damn thing to say, so I gave up on trying and let him lead me away.
For our first date.
Chapter Seventeen
Logan
The maître d' escorted us to a booth in the far corner of the restaurant, a secluded spot where no one would notice or disturb us. I'd asked for this sort of table when I made the reservation earlier today. I wanted Serena all to myself. Never in my life had I eaten at a five-star restaurant where the prices had more zeroes in them than my paycheck. My old paycheck. I hadn't worked at Evanescent long enough to have received my pay yet, so I'd been forced to ask Evan if I could use the company credit card and pay him back later.
"Don't worry about it," he'd said, sounding almost offended that I'd asked. "It's a business expense."
"But this is a personal dinner, not business related."
"You and Serena work for me, and you're in Seattle on business. Charge it to the company account."
That seemed wrong to me, but then, Evan had more money than any normal human could imagine having, and so did many of his clients. A business dinner that cost a small fortune might not raise any red flags with the tax authorities. I decided to accept the CEO's decision and move on.
I had more important things to focus on tonight. One thing, actually.
And she was just sliding into the semicircular booth across from me.
When she'd opened the door to her suite earlier and I had first glimpsed her, the sight had robbed me of any capacity to form meaningful sounds. I was fair certain I'd mumbled nonsense while my chin dropped to my chest and saliva dribbled from my lips. Maybe it hadn't been quite that bad. She had taken my breath away, though.
Her black lace dress clung to every curve on her body but flared out into a flowing skirt beneath her hips. The neckline plunged far enough below her breasts to be tantalizing, though not so much that it would raise eyebrows among the stuffier crowd. The dress left most of her shoulders bare yet somehow held the dress up, and the semitransparent sleeves extended all the way down to her wrists. Other parts of the dress seemed semitransparent too, like the fabric that covered her belly. Her black shoes featured heels so high and slender I wondered how she managed to stay upright.
And her hair. It flowed over her shoulders in golden-brown waves and curled around her face in a way that made me imagine brushing those locks away from her face while I buried myself inside her lush body.
Bod an Donais. She was a vision of sensual beauty. A goddess come down from Mount Olympus.
I'd never been poetic, but I was afflicted with a sudden urge to blether romantic nonsense about her creamy skin and her stunning gray eyes.
Now, ten minutes after I'd first seen her in that dress, she had decided to sit on the exact opposite side of the round table instead of next to me.
"Why are you over there?" I asked.
"So we can look at each other while we're eating and talking."
I shook my head, petting the curved bench beside me. "No, lass, you belong over here. Where I can touch you and smell you. This is our first date, after all."
She seemed to think about that for a moment before she slid across the bench to sit an arm's length away from me.
Like hell I'd let her get away with that.
I slung an arm around her waist and dragged her closer. We were inches apart. Much better. I nuzzled her hair, sucking in a deep draft of Serena-scented air, and moaned. Fuck, she smelled good. Always.
"What are you doing, Logan?"
Reluctantly, I pulled my face away from her hair. "I love the way you smell."
"I don't use perfume or scented oils or whatever."
"No, it's your natural scent. All woman and sex and everything else that drives men wild."
"Never thought I'd see the day Logan MacTaggart gets mushy."
Was I mushy? I had no idea. I hadn't waxed poetic about her eyes or her hair, so she must've been exaggerating. A mushy man would've written a sonnet or...something. I had no clue how to romance a woman.
I settled a hand on her thigh. "That wasn't mushy, lass. It was seduction."
She turned her face toward me, her lips curving into a sweet, sexy smile. "Don't get ahead of yourself. I haven't decided if I'm sleeping with you tonight."
"You will." I draped an arm across the bench behind her. "We want each other, Serena, and there's nothing stopping us tonight. This isn't the office. It's not someone else's house. We have two suites at our disposal, and I intend to take advantage of that fact. You can say no, but we both know it would be a lie. Do me the courtesy of telling the truth when I ask you to spend the night with me."
"Honesty goes both ways, you know." She tapped a finger on my chest. "And you haven't exactly excelled at telling the truth. Whenever I mention your military service or your time with MI6, you do whatever it takes to end the conversation. Last time, you got so obnoxious that I slapped you."
"I remember." And I had deserved it.
She angled toward me, her breaths reflecting off my face. "If you really want to date me, start talking. Conversation is how people get to know each other. It's an integral part of the process." She sank back against the bench. "Or that's what I hear. I haven't dated in a really, really long time."
"Neither have I. The last time I took a lass out on a date, neither of us had a mobile phone in our pockets."
"It was the Stone Age, eh?" She nudged me with her elbow. "You're not that old. Me, I was born before the wheel was invented."
The sparkle in her eyes assured me she was having me on. No one who saw Serena Carpenter would describe her as old. Vitality poured out of her. Still, it was possible our age difference made her uncomfortable.
"Does it bother you that I'm younger?" I asked.
She made a dismissive noise. "I'm not Keely. I don't have a hang-up about age. Besides, I've been with men younger than you."
"They were wee bairns, then?"
"Ha-ha. Last year I had a brief thing with a twenty-year-old."
Part of me wanted to ask what sort of "brief thing" they'd had, but it wasn't my business. Not yet. Before I could ask her questions like that, I needed to reciprocate the honesty she'd given me, tonight and that day when I'd bought her lunch and she'd confessed to being melancholy because her son wanted to visit his grandparents for the summer.
"When does Chase leave for Vermont?" I asked.
"Tuesday." She stared down at her lap, her fingers moving restlessly over the fabric of her dress. "I agreed to let him stay there for two months."
I brushed a curl of hair away from her cheek. "You'll miss him."
"Of course I will. He's never been gone for more than a few days before. When he was twelve, he begged me to send him to summer camp, but after three days, he was begging me to let him come home."
"Did you?"
"Yes. I missed him then too." She snatched her napkin off the table and focused intently on spreading it over her lap. "Not sure he'll miss me this time."
"He will."
"We'll see." She took a deep breath and raised her face to me. "Your turn. Why don't you want to talk about your past in the army and MI6?"
"Those are serious topics, and I was hoping we could save the serious discussion for after."
"After what?"
"Dinner, dancing, and sex."
"Okay, we'll put a pin in that." She hesitated, eying me for a moment before asking, "What about your sisters? I'd love to hear about them."
An image of Elspeth flashed in my mind, a memory of a day long ago, of her pallid face and brave smile. I grabbed my water glass and gulped down half its contents, but the tightness in my throat lingered. "That would also be part of the serious conversation we'll have later."
"You can't use that excuse for everything I ask you abo
ut."
"I won't. Just...pick another topic. Please."
"All right." She scrutinized me for a moment, her attention making me squirm like I hadn't done since I was a teenager and my parents had caught me sneaking a girl into my bedroom after midnight. Fortunately, Serena gave up her scrutiny, sighed, and smiled. "Tell me about your cousins, then. That can't be serious territory. You cousins are some of the happiest people I've ever met."
"Every single one of them is completely insane."
Her smile broadened, and her eyes sparkled with humor. "You can't fool me, Logan MacTaggart. You like your cousins. Evan is your best friend."
My best friend? I didn't remember ever having one of those. Wasn't it something people only had in movies? Serena and Keely were best friends, but it was different with women. Wasn't it?
Serena touched her fingertip to the spot above my nose, between my eyebrows. "You've got a little divot there, which means you're confused. You shouldn't be. It's obvious you and Evan are best friends."
"Bollocks. I hardly know him."
"You're in America now, and we say bullshit instead of bollocks." She traced a line down my nose with her finger, tapping it on the tip. "No bullshitting, Logan. You were Evan's best man when he married Keely, you flew all the way to America because he asked you to, and you took a job he offered you even though you're sure it was just a matchmaking scheme. Why would you do that unless you're very fond of Evan?"
"Maybe I did it for Keely. It's hard to say no to a pregnant woman." We both knew that was bullshit, but after years as a covert agent, my default response in uncomfortable situations was to lie and evade. When Serena opened her mouth, I held up a hand to silence her. "I'm overflowing with shit, I know. Maybe I do like Evan, but I have no bloody idea if he's my best friend. He should have a say in that, shouldn't he?"
"Let's call and ask him."
Her cheeks dimpled when she said it, and I knew she was teasing me again.
"Go on," I said. "Call Evan."
"Is that a dare?" Her lips cinched into a tight pucker, but they twitched as if she struggled not to smile. "I can't call him. I didn't bring my phone."