Logan

by Melissa Schroeder

  She took a sip and sighed. Angus had bought the best, of course.

  “So, what about you and Logan,” Maggie asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, what’s going on with the two of you?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Oh, no, don’t give me that. I know better than anyone—well, except for Rena—how you act around men. The fact that you don’t really flirt with Logan is a tell, love.”

  She made a face. “How would I get him into my bed anyway? He has no reaction to the voice.”

  Maggie was about to take a drink, but she lowered her glass slowly. She studied Meg for a moment or two. “You don’t think all you have is that voice, do you?”

  Meg shrugged, trying to push away the insecurity that weighed heavy on her soul. “I will admit, I’ve used it a lot over the last few years. It’s kind of difficult to think a man is immune to it.”

  “Don’t ever think that’s all you are. We are more than just our abilities, Meg. So much more.”

  She wished she could believe, but she didn’t have it in her. “I guess you could be right.”

  “And something happened.”

  She glanced up at Maggie.

  “I knew it. You were both acting strangely on the plane this morning.”

  “He kissed me.”

  “When?”

  “Last night in the kitchen.”

  “I just knew it. I told Angus there was something going on and he said to mind my own business.”

  Meg rolled her eyes. “Men.”

  “Exactly. So, what are you going to do about it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, what are you going to do about it? You seem to have feelings for him.”

  “Right now, I think we need to concentrate on the job. After that, we can worry about the man.”

  Maggie smiled. “That sounds like a plan.”

  And then, Meg could disappear for a while and think about how to get that man out of her blood.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Logan’s skin crawled the moment they stepped into the party. The chatter of people assaulted his senses first. The cloying tones of people who thought they knew art always aggravated him. Now, though, it was worse. He didn’t know why, but the further they’d gotten from the apartment, the more irritated he had become.

  Both he and Angus had inviting smiles tossed their way. Normally, he had no problem with that. Women were a delight to him. He loved them all. Old, young, tall, short, thin, round…he usually could enjoy their company. Right now, however, he had to fight to keep the sneer from curving his lips. In fact, he felt almost physically ill.

  “Oh, for the love of God, stop fidgeting.”

  He looked at Angus, wondering what his brother was about. “I’m not fidgeting.”

  “In your head. I can feel you trying to figure a way out of this function, but it’s the best way to meet Morin.”

  “I’m no’ trying to get out of the party.”

  Angus looked at him for a moment longer. “Then what the bloody hell is bothering you?”

  “These women. I feel as if I’m being hunted.”

  Angus studied him a moment longer, then a smile curved his lips. “Ah.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Angus shook his head. “Nothing.”

  Before he could press his brother further, a waiter walked by with a tray full of champagne. Both of them grabbed one, as the man passed them. Logan watched the room carefully, trying his best to keep his mind on the mission. They didn’t want to stand out, and they definitely didn’t want to appear to be on the hunt for Morin. As Logan had said, he met the man once. It would be suspicious if they sought him out.

  “I guess we should mingle,” Angus said.

  Logan nodded and followed his brother through the ballroom. He knew this was better than coming with the women first. It was a casual way to meet the man they wanted to defeat, and seeing Meg right off would set Morin on the defensive. This way it would look like an accident.

  The crowd parted in front of Angus, and Logan saw Morin. Just like the first time he had met the man, he was dressed in the most expensive fabrics and surrounded by younger women. He was always surrounded by them, from what Logan knew of Morin. Logan might have only met him once, but Morin was the type of man who needed the attention of beautiful young women to feed his ego. And, he could understand Morin’s attraction to Meg. Logan was confident Meg would draw many admirers—even without the ability to lure them with her voice.

  Morin would not have cared that Meg had been just this side of legal. It would have given the middle-aged millionaire another notch in his belt. She might be a grifter, but then, she had been a young girl. No matter how circumspect her reasons for being in Paris were, he knew without a doubt, Morin had taken advantage.

  His hands started to ache and he looked down. He realized he’d fisted both of them.

  “Take it easy, Logan. We don’t want him to know anything about us.”

  He flexed his hands trying to ease the discomfort. “All these people know who we are.”

  “They think they do. Only those we care for know about us.”

  He nodded, as he took a deep breath. It was then that Morin noticed them. For a second he studied them, then his face cleared and he smiled. Without hesitation, he walked over to them.

  “Logan Lennon, so nice to see you again. I did not know you were coming to Paris.”

  “Spur of the moment kind of thing. Came with my brother and his wife. Have you met my brother?”

  “No, I have not.” He looked at Angus. “This is not Callum.”

  He laughed. “No. Callum is my cousin. This is my brother Angus. Angus, this is Pierre Morin. He’s known to be a collector of sorts.”

  “Of sorts,” Pierre chuckled. “It is nice to meet you. And your wife?”

  “She’s back at the apartment sleeping. Jet lag.”

  “Oh, that is too bad. Hopefully I will get to meet her while she is here.”

  “I’m sure you will,” Logan said smoothly. Knowing Morin’s reputation, he probably thought he could seduce Maggie. Bastard. “So, what is the party for tonight?”

  Morin’s cold blue eyes sparkled with excitement. “I just acquired the most wonderful jewel.”

  As he spoke, Logan studied the man and the people surrounding him. After hundreds of years, all of them were good at judging people. Or they had thought they were. But, for Logan, he always liked to look beneath the surface. Everyone had something they liked to hide, something they didn’t want anyone to know about. Hell, most people refused to admit their failings to themselves.

  Everyone gathered around Morin had ulterior motives. Most of them were easy to guess. Money and power were aphrodisiacs for some people. But beneath that, there was something else, something that left his stomach churning.

  Something was wrong. Before he could pinpoint just what it was, his brother drew his attention with a comment, and Logan rejoined the conversation. He pushed aside his concerns and played the role he’d been sent to portray.

  * * * *

  “I would say that went well,” Angus said, as they walked up the stairs to Meg’s apartment.

  Logan grunted, still unsure of his feelings at the moment. He didn’t know what it was, but something was nudging at his senses. A warning, perhaps, but something strong enough to make him feel ill.

  It could have been the travel, or maybe he had eaten something that didn’t agree with him. Of course, the further they’d gotten from Morin’s party, he had felt better and better.

  “I’m glad you have so much to add to the conversation.”

  “Sorry, I’ve my mind on other things.”

  Angus chuckled, as he dug the apartment keys out of his pocket. “Think that thing isna a thing but a who.”

  Logan wanted to argue with him, but if the two hundred plus years had taught him one thing, it was that he would have a better chance at beating a brick wall in an argu
ment. Angus was tenacious.

  Angus unlocked the door and Logan followed him into the foyer. There was soft music playing and…giggling?

  Logan glanced at Angus, who shrugged. “You never know with women—especially witches.”

  They made their way to the dining room, which was…a mess. There were at least four empty wine bottles. Plates of food scattered the table where they had apparently decided to have a feast of some sort.

  But the women weren’t there. Instead, they were in the living area again, and working their way through the fifth bottle. Lord, how could two such little women drink that much wine?

  Maggie was listening intently to what Meg was saying, even though it made absolutely no sense.

  “Well, this is a fine mess,” Angus muttered, although there was a lot of humor in his voice.

  Logan nodded but said nothing. He had never really seen Meg like this. Hell, he hadn’t seen Maggie drunk either. He paid no attention to his sister-in-law. As always, Meg drew his attention. Her hair was a mess of curls, her face was flushed, and there was a sloppy smile on her face. He couldn’t stop the smile that curved his lips.

  “It definitely is,” he said, answering his brother.

  “And so, when you do that spell, have you found it works?” Maggie asked.

  Meg shook her head. “That’s the thing. It doesn’t work. Well, unless the jackass loves you already.”

  Maggie frowned. “Then why would you do the spell to begin with? Especially one that had all those ingredients? Where do you get bat brains in this day and age?”

  “Well, because men are idiots.”

  Maggie sighed and nodded, as if she understood the reasoning. She drained what was left of her drink. Then, she frowned. “I’m out of wine.”

  “Here,” Meg said,

  “Hey, what do you think about going out tonight? The guys are out and we could go stir up some trouble.”

  He shared another glance with Angus, who was smiling.

  “Yeah. Let’s do it. It would be fun to mess with people. We could send a few of them screaming.”

  Angus shook his head and stepped into the room. “I think you should stay in tonight, love.”

  Maggie frowned at him. “Quit sneaking around like that.”

  Neither Angus nor Logan pointed out that they had been standing in full view for several minutes.

  “I just think in your state, you should stay home love. Logan and I don’t want to unleash drunken witches on Paris.”

  She sighed. “You spoil all my fun.”

  Angus chuckled, as he lifted her out of the seat and over his shoulder.

  “Angus McLennan, put me down.”

  He smacked her on the rear end. “You said you wanted some fun, and I’m happy to be of service to you, Mrs. McLennan.”

  She lifted her head and waved at them, as they headed out the door.

  There was a long silence after the newlyweds left the room. Then, Meg sighed. “So, now it’s your turn to get me into bed.”

  He blinked. “I beg your pardon.”

  She giggled, falling back onto the couch. “You are so stuffy for an artist. Most of the artists I know are free spirits.”

  Normally, he was. Out of all of the Clan, he was known for being easy going. Not much got on his nerves and if it did, it didn’t last for long. For some reason, when he was around Meg, he became a version of his father, a man who never understood Logan’s passion for art.

  “Either way, you need to go to bed and get some rest. We’ve a busy day ahead tomorrow.”

  She rolled her eyes and stood up. “Sure thing, commander.”

  “I’m not the commander.”

  “Yes, that would be Callum, now wouldn’t it?” He opened his mouth to tell her to hurry up, but she rambled on as she walked over to him. “That would make you what, like a major? Or whatever you Brits call it.”

  “I am no’ a brit.”

  Her lips curved. “Oh, sorry. I just think of you as related.”

  Her tone told him she knew exactly what she had done. It was then that he realized she was practically naked. The t-shirt she was wearing had seen better days. She apparently forgot to add pants to the outfit.

  “Now, let’s get me to bed, shall we,” she said.

  She wobbled a bit, but righted herself as she made her way out the room. He followed behind her, worried that she wouldn’t be able to make it up the stairs.

  Of course, it was the worst position to be in, he thought. At least the t-shirt covered her ass, which frustrated him too. He kept getting quick glimpses of black silky material each time she gained a stair. And each time he had to resist pressing his hands against her rounded ass.

  She lost her balance and fell back against him. He kept them both from falling down the stairs by grabbing her by the waist.

  “Oh, my,” she said, her voice breathless as if in anticipation.

  He ground his teeth and righted her. She was drunk and no matter that they had kissed the night before, he would not take advantage of her.

  Meg turned and flashed a smile at him. “Thanks.”

  He felt the power of that single look to the depths of his soul. Was this what men felt like when she sang? He didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. Knowing she could do this to men with just the sound of her voice made everything somehow worse. He finally got her to her room. She almost tripped over the threshold, and he had to catch her again.

  He righted her and she turned to face him. She was smiling at him, those dark brown eyes sparkling up at him, and again he felt that power, the sexual lure she held over him. But there was something else, something that called to him, pulled at him, made him think he would never be able to let her go.

  “Thank you for the escort, your highness”

  He would normally correct her, but he liked her teasing. “You’re welcome, wench.”

  They stood there for a few long silent seconds. Her smile slowly faded.

  “Oh, to hell with it,” she said. Before he could translate what she meant, she jumped into his arms and kissed him.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Logan didn’t respond at first. He couldn’t. He was too stunned by Meg’s actions. She pulled back for a moment. She didn’t open her eyes really, and she barely spoke above a whisper when she said, “Give me a little sugar, Logan.”

  Her Southern accent had deepened, and it danced over his hormones. There was something about that slow, soft tone that brought him out of his frozen state.

  She didn’t wait for him to respond to her request. Instead, she took his face in her hands and slammed her mouth against his again. She slid against him, her full, unbound breasts pressing hard against his chest, as she dove inside his mouth. Now he did respond. He slanted his mouth, as he slipped his hands down to her ass and pulled her tight against him. His cock hardened, his body heated, and he felt himself slipping under the spell she wove. She moaned. God, he loved when she did that. He was losing himself, ready to back her up against any flat surface and shag her. Drunk or not.

  That thought gave him enough of a scare to pause. He realized he was definitely taking advantage of the situation, and needed to stop it before it got out of hand

  He wrenched his mouth away and gulped in huge breaths. She moved closer, if that was possible, and tried to kiss him again.

  Logan grabbed her hands. “No.”

  She opened her eyes, but just barely. The pout she gave him was perfect.

  “What do you mean no?”

  “Tisn’t right. You’re pissed.”

  For a second, a look of confusion marred her expression. “Pissed?”

  Then he remembered she was American. Yes, she had spent a long time abroad, but deep down, she was an American witch.

  “Drunk. Very, very drunk.”

  She smiled. “Yes, I am. But not that much.”

  “Really, because it looked like the two of you went through five bottles.”

  She shrugged. “Doesn't affect us like it affec
ts you and your kind. Besides, don’t men like taking advantage of drunken women?”

  “Not honorable men.” And for the first time in his very long life, Logan regretted being one. He wished he could ignore the rules his parents had taught him years earlier.

  She slipped her arms around his waist, then slid her hands down to his ass. “Come on, Logan, be a little bad with me. Just this once.”

  There was a small part of him that told him to say no. But, a bigger part, the one screaming in his ears and controlling his hormones, was in charge. When he looked down at her, he realized she might have been right about the alcohol. Her eyes were clear, and she had a determined look about her.

  “You promise me you won’t regret this?”

  “Promise.”

  She had barely finished the word when he cupped her face in his hands and bent down to kiss her. He didn’t waste any time. He backed her over to the huge canopied bed. They reached it and he tumbled them over. It was the only reprieve he was going to grant her. He settled on top of her and started to kiss her again. She didn’t hesitate. Her response was as wicked as the need he had for her. Everything that had been building for weeks surged forward, encouraging him to conquer her.

  She apparently had no problem. He pulled back and then tugged at her shirt. He had it off her in seconds, tossing it on the floor behind them. He didn’t care. Instead, he could only stare at the treasure he had unearthed. Fair skin, amazing breasts, with the most beautiful rosy nipples begging for his hands…and his mouth.

  He licked his lips when he realized she was only wearing that little scrape of black silk. Then, he felt her hands at his throat. She was undoing his tie.

  He stopped her by grabbing her hands. “I am not going to lay here naked and have you completely dressed, Logan.”

  He smiled and helped her with the tie. Before he was completely done, she was working her way down the buttons on his shirt. He shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket, throwing it on the floor beside her shirt, and then he surrendered.

  Bracing his hands beside her on the mattress, he bent his head and took one turgid tip into his mouth. She moaned, arching up off the bed, as she speared her fingers through his hair before molding her palms to the back of his head. As he kissed a path to her other nipple, she wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed her sex against his cock. Even through the layers of clothing he still wore, he could feel the heat of her.