by Maisey Yates
“Right now? It benefits me to keep people guessing.”
“Well, great job. I’m still guessing.” Addison knew that she was baiting the beast, and that was unlike her. No, unlike her was the understatement of the century. She never pushed, never made waves. It was what she’d watched her mother do for the past twenty-two years. It was what Addison herself had done from the moment she understood what was expected.
“I’m sure you’ll find confirmation of some kind before this is over.”
“And while I’m here?”
He turned away from her, his broad back filling her vision. “Don’t come into my room.” He started to walk away from her, toward the door she imagined led to the rest of his quarters. “I’ll be in the office in fifteen minutes. Hopefully Rome hasn’t turned to ash by the time I get there.”
Chapter Five
Logan gritted his teeth and lowered his head, palms braced against the tile wall of the shower, as a spray of cold water hit his back. A punishment, a reminder.
A reminder that he didn’t deserve anything half so comfortable as a warm shower, and that he certainly didn’t deserve the hot, cutting slice of need he’d experienced when he looked at Addison.
He didn’t deserve sexual arousal, much less the opportunity to act on it. Not that he’d been entirely without invitation since his return from the island, but he’d never been tempted to indulge.
When Addison appeared in his gym, he’d been torn between two desires. The first desire had been to growl at her, terrify her, so that she ran not only out of his gym, but out of his hotel. Out of his life.
That desire hadn’t bothered him. That desire, as far as his desires were concerned, was a fairly normal one. It was the second desire that had him standing in a cold shower, seeking punishment, seeking pain.
It was the second desire that left him feeling that he wanted to crawl out of his own skin. The desire to pull her hard against his body, to cup her face and claim her mouth, fierce and hard and deep. To forget the past four years of hell, to forget why he was no longer allowed to touch women. Why he never allowed himself to touch anyone.
But just wanting the last four years erased wouldn’t make it so.
He cursed and slammed his hand against the hard tile, the biting pain overriding the tight ball of need he was fighting.
What he needed was to get back into the gym. To exhaust himself past the point of feeling. To make himself forget everything except for physical exhaustion.
But he’d promised to go into the office. The office that currently contained the woman who was causing all his problems. In fairness, Addison wasn’t the source of all his problems. But she was most certainly the source of his hard-on. Which, at the moment, was the most pressing of his problems.
Logan stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his waist before he continued on into his bedroom. His phone, which was sitting on the nightstand, was ringing. Very few people had that particular number. Which meant it was an important call. One he couldn’t ignore.
He walked over to his nightstand and picked up the phone, catching the green accept button and raising it to his ear. “Black.”
“Do you really need to answer the phone that way? I doubt anyone but me or your sister ever call this number.”
Logan let out a heavy sigh. “Sorry, Mother.”
“Bad day?”
“Just a typical day. Training a new assistant.”
“Didn’t you just train a new assistant? You have a bad habit of scaring them off.”
“I’m still trying to figure out if assistants are just a particularly skittish breed, or if I’m scarier than the average boss.”
His mother laughed, the sound off, filled with more sadness than humor. “I think you know the answer to that, Logan.”
“I’m certain you didn’t call to make small talk about my employees.”
“You’re right, I didn’t. I called because we have a bit of a situation.”
“Nothing to do with Elizabeth, I hope,” he said
“Professional rather than personal issues, thank God.”
“But nothing I’m going to like, I have a feeling.”
“No, I’m afraid you won’t like it.” She paused for a moment, and he could hear a wealth of unspoken words in the silence. “Logan, we need you.”
*
Logan stalked into the office, the bad mood he’d been in before now magnified by an astronomical factor.
And seeing Addison sitting at his desk, poised, composed and unruffled—as though their encounter in the gym had never happened, as though it had really been nothing more than a conversation that had ended in neither of them touching the other—when he himself had felt the intensity of an entire subtext of longing only enraged him further.
“Lucky you, Addison. Your job just got harder.”
Her pale eyebrows shot upward. “Am I to be looking for needles in haystacks? Or perhaps for the more personable side of your personality?”
“The second one. Though I imagine you wish it had been the first.”
She blinked, her expression almost comically blank. “You know, I chose both of those options because they were outlandish.”
“Just because I didn’t laugh doesn’t mean I didn’t get the joke.”
“But…it’s not a joke.”
“I suppose that all depends on how you look at it. But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m going to need some help.”
Addison stood from her position behind the desk. “You were just mocking my reasons for being here. Just a socialite hiding from the press.”
“Which is exactly why I need to. Because you are a socialite, and the implication of the title would be that you’re good with all things social.”
“I think that’s less true these days. Hanging out with me is social suicide.”
“Happily for the both of us, I’m a much bigger social liability than you are.” He began to pace the length of the room, restless energy filling him. The day had started out badly, his anxiety so aggressive from the time he’d rolled out of bed that morning that it had nearly choked him. That was why he’d gone to the gym rather than the office. Because some days the physical activity helped burn away the icy fingers of terror that grabbed him and refused to let go.
Of course, other days there was nothing to help. Other days it was just a slow, private descent into his own personal hell.
Today had been one of those days. The kind of day where nothing would be able to pull him back from the brink. Unfortunately he did not have the time to indulge himself. He had things to do.
And unfortunately for Addison, he needed her to accomplish them.
“I don’t really see how that’s happy for either of us. It would be better if neither of us were a social liability.”
“It depends on how you look at it I suppose. If we’re dealing in limitless possibilities, I would simply prefer not to be needed socially. If that were the case, it wouldn’t matter if I was a liability or not.”
“Was that a joke, Logan?”
“No,” he said.
“Of course not. So, what sort of social skills do you need from me?”
“What kind of social skills do you think I lack?”
“Be reasonable, Logan, I’m not a miracle worker.” For the first time since she’d swanned into his office yesterday, Addison appeared ruffled.
It was oddly satisfying.
“I don’t expect you are. However, I feel that you must be accomplished in the fine art of conversation, and standing around looking lovely at society functions.”
“Yes,” she said. “I am all those things. But I fail to see how any of that is helpful to you. I mean, it isn’t as though you’re planning some big ball, are you?” Her expression contorted into something that looked a bit like horror. “Oh no, Logan, you are not hosting a ball, are you?”
“Not as such. Black Properties is, though. And my wonderful mother has called to inform me that my pres
ence will be required.”
“Okay,” Addison said, drawing the word out so that it was several syllables in length.
“I will also be required to give a speech.”
Addison shifted her weight from foot to foot. “All right.”
“And there is the small matter of the fact that I haven’t left this hotel in more than three months.”
*
Addison stared at Logan, and she knew that she was not succeeding in keeping her expression unreadable. That her practiced, gracious face was failing her completely.
More rules crumbling. More Treffen tenets falling.
“Is that some kind of expression…? Like a figure of speech? Some kind of inside joke you came up with yourself in your years on the island?”
Logan looked at her, his expression blank. “Why would that be an expression? What could it possibly mean beyond the literal denotation?”
“I really don’t know, I was just looking for something less…” She tried to find a word that wasn’t inflammatory. “…upsetting than you not having left the hotel in three months.”
“I told you that you would see what I was talking about.” He said it with such tired resignation. No shame or embarrassment, but with a certain amount of finality that made Addison ache.
“It doesn’t mean you’re crazy.” She didn’t know why she was trying to comfort him. Possibly the only creature on earth with less need of comfort than Logan Black was a panther.
A humorless smile curved his lips. “Oh, really? And what would? Mood swings? Foul temper, a history of violence?”
“You don’t have those things. Well, you don’t have all those things.” Addison put her hand on her forehead and started to pace. Logan was already pacing on the opposite side of the room.
He stopped midstride, the sudden absence of movement nearly as disturbing as the pacing had been. “According to my mother, if the new project doesn’t get off the ground, we’re going to start hemorrhaging investors like we’ve severed an artery.”
“And why is that she knows this and you don’t?” Addison might not have a brilliant business mind, but she’d spent enough time with businessmen over the years to understand they should be the first to know these things about their own companies.
“Luncheon talk.” He started pacing again. “For obvious reasons, I’m not always up on gossip. My mother, on the other hand, is very good at getting people to chat with her. She may not be CEO material, but she’s pretty brilliant with certain forms of corporate espionage.”
“So your investors are starting to have concerns?”
“It appears so. And I can hardly blame them. From a business perspective I imagine an erratic CEO doesn’t seem like a very safe bet.”
“No one seems to have had a problem with you for the past couple of years.”
“Because I’ve done what I could to use the anxiety to my advantage.”
Addison stomach squeezed tight. “Anxiety?”
Logan turned sharply and planted his hands on the desk, the sound sharp and stark in the silence of the room. “Did you imagine I was just antisocial?”
“Well, frankly, yes.” She could see very clearly now that that had been an oversimplification of things. Could see now that it has been easy to put his behavior down to him being irritable, or him simply being an unpleasant human being.
“When I control things, most people come out of their interactions with me with the same impression you have. They never have to see the underlying issues.” He pushed off the desk and shoved his fingers through his hair. “However, when I have to go out, things get tricky.”
“What kind of tricky? I understand that you’re not used to talking about this. But being vague isn’t going to help.”
He tilted his head to the side, deadly light glittering in his blue eyes. “I am not weak.”
Addison swallowed hard. “I know.” She didn’t know this man, not really. Sharing a couple of conversations with him, feeling her pulse speed up while she watched him work out, did not equal knowing him. So why this moment, that quiet statement, made her ache, she didn’t know.
“When I first came back, everything was fine. Well, not everything, but once I got my physical strength back I felt like I was settling in.” He took a deep breath. “I was back. Numb, but back. It was when the numbness started wearing off that the problems started. I don’t like crowds,” he said.
“Understandable.”
“Or traffic. Or…being outside. In the city at least. I didn’t think being outside when I wasn’t in the center of Manhattan would be a problem.”
“That,” she said, “is slightly more problematic.”
“No shit,” he said.
“So, what happens? You just don’t like it? Okay, obviously it’s more than that, or I assume you would have gone outside at least once over the past three months.”
“Panic attacks,” he said. “At least that’s what the doctor said they are. I went to the doctor after the first one because I thought I was dying. Dying of some horrible parasite I must have picked up on the island. Turns out I was just forgetting to breathe.”
“Oh, Logan, I’m so sorry.” Addison moved toward him, stretching out her hand, about to touch his shoulder, trying to offer some comfort.
Logan jerked back, his expression fierce. “Don’t. Don’t touch me.”
Addison pulled her hand back against her chest, knowing she looked as rattled as she felt. He made her feel so helpless. So not like her. “I… I’m sorry.”
“No, this is why I don’t talk about it, and why I don’t push it. I’m not weak, and I don’t want you to look at me like I’m some kind of ticking time bomb ready to go off at any moment.”
“I would never have called you weak. But…are you saying you’re not a ticking time bomb?”
“I know how to disarm the bomb at least.”
“How?”
“Getting back to familiar surroundings.”
“Is that why you haven’t left the hotel?”
“Yes. I could never predict them. Could never master them. The last one happened on my way to a business meeting. I vomited in my car and had to turn back.”
“Do you know…why do you…have them?”
“I don’t know, Addison. I don’t like to talk to other people about my problems, so I haven’t spent a whole lot of time analyzing this one,” he said. “I just deal with it.”
“Okay.”
“But if I had to venture a guess, I’d say it’s related to the fact that I spent two years completely away from people, and cars, and all this noise.”
Her stomach tightened. “Fair guess.”
“I was used to it,” he said.
“Used to what?”
“The quiet. The peace. It’s off here. It’s loud. It’s busy. People go to bed so damn late. Why would you stay up so long after the sun goes down? It doesn’t make sense.”
“You used to all the time,” she said, keeping her tone gentle. “You were in the news all the time for your staying out all night.”
“Not now. Now I just think I was a dumb ass who needed a good dose of reality. I’d never had to deal with the consequences of my actions. Throw a gigantic house party where people trash the place and get sick? No sweat. My parents hired people to clean it up. Get caught messing around with two women at the same time? Who cares? It’s just Logan Black. Naked in a suite in Vegas? Part of his charm. But I learned consequences, Addison. And now I can’t unlearn them. There are consequences for everything. Whether they’re immediate or not. My entire life of getting away with whatever the hell I wanted came to a crashing halt when I realized that even my almighty dollars couldn’t control the damn weather. Twenty people. Crew, friends, lovers,” he bit out. “At the bottom of the damn ocean.”
Addison sucked in a shaky breath. “It’s not like you put a brick through the hull.”
“I might as well have, Addison.”
“You can’t take credit for the weather.”
<
br /> “No, but I can damn well take credit for taking the yacht out without doing proper investigation. Without talking to anyone, or listening to anyone. I can and will take credit for that. Don’t try to assuage my conscience. It’s way too late for that. I had a two-year sentence to think on that. A life sentence, really. So I’m serving it. Because it’s the best I can do. It’s the closest thing to atonement. Though it will never be close enough. Got any other platitudes for me?” he asked.
“None,” she said, looking back out the window. “Except you aren’t dealing with it. Staying inside for three months isn’t dealing with it.”
“I do not need the poor little rich girl burrowing in my spare bedroom to tell me how to deal with things. What I need is for you to help me deal with these panic attacks.”
“I’m not a therapist. As you so like reminding me, I’m just a silly rich girl who excels at attending parties.”
“And as such, you know how to look like you’re having a wonderful time even when you’d rather be anywhere else but where you are, I assume.”
Addison laughed softly. “That’s my specialty. Always act graciously, always pretend you’re having a good time.”
“Teach me how to do that.”
“It’s not the same.”
“I know,” he said. “Did I mention I’ll be required to give a speech?”
“Yes, but if you’re asking for miracles, why not go big?”
“Help me,” he said, his voice rough, his guard dropped completely. He looked desperate. He looked as though he needed her. She wasn’t sure if anyone had ever needed her before.
Chapter Six
The streets of Manhattan were not the depths of the ocean. Staring down Broadway was not the same as looking down into the icy, never-ending water. But to Logan Black it felt about the same.
It was late, after dark, and the lobby of the Black Book was mostly empty. There were a few staff members of his hotel wandering around very deliberately keeping their eyes averted.