Rhyme

by Lexy Timms

  His dark eyes met hers, and she saw the same passion she remembered from their night together. Her breathing stuttered, and in that instant, she wanted him again. Wanted to go with him to see if there was something more... if there could be more to this than just one night of lust. But he’s your client.

  “Sometimes I do. I just might believe it happened to me. At least I want the chance to find out. Don’t you want that chance too, Olivia?” Logan’s voice was low, the smooth rumble she remembered. It made her just as week in the knees as it had the night they met.

  Logan was still holding her hands when the waiter arrived with their dinner. He spoke without taking his eyes from hers. “Have our dinner sent up to my room, please. And a bottle of Macallan, the best year you have.”

  Olivia was unable to hold back a laugh. “I should have known you’d pick the restaurant in your hotel. I was too distracted by being late to even notice.”

  Logan smiled at her as he rose, holding out his hand in offer. “You can’t fault me for trying. And unless you’re starving, I think there’s a better use for our evening, don’t you?”

  He was her client. And she didn’t really care. Impulsively, Olivia rose up on her tiptoes and kissed Logan. “I have to agree, Mr. Graham.”

  With another warm laugh, Logan pulled her toward the door. This time, it was Olivia who paused and reached back for the half-empty bottle of alcohol on the table.

  “Someone gave me some advice not too long ago, and I’ve decided to adapt it to my own needs” she said as her fingers curled around the neck. “Never leave the wine.” She grinned at Logan. “Not even for a handsome, wanton man.”

  UPSTAIRS, LOGAN LET them into his room, tossing the key on a side table. Olivia set the wine down, surprised at the modest size of the suite: just a small sitting area with a bedroom visible through a door to her right. Her memories of the rooms where he’d stayed the first time they met were a little fuzzy, too taken up with snapshot sensations of his hands on her body and her mouth on his.

  “This isn’t quite what I expected,” she admitted.

  Logan turned on the lamps sitting around the room, lighting it in a warm yellow glow. As he walked toward her, she took in everything about him: how the light caught in his dark eyes, the ever-present hint of a smile in the curve of his mouth, the high cheekbones and the straight nose. Damn, he’s gorgeous.

  “I don’t need all that much, just a bed and a closet. I’d rather spend my money on good Scotch and good food.” He reached out, one hand stroking over her shoulder and down her arm. “Or you, if I had the chance. I’ve never really had a woman to indulge. Might be something we’d both enjoy.”

  Olivia stared. “You’ve never had a girlfriend?” That was... pretty much impossible to believe.

  The touch of his fingers on her skin was setting a fire alight under her skin. As handsome as he was, and as much as she was attracted to him, she felt suddenly shy. It was easy to be brazen in the noise of the restaurant. But here, alone in his room, with his intentions clear, Olivia found herself hesitating. That he was her client complicated matters tremendously. It could get her disbarred. But only if someone finds out.

  “Not any serious ones, no. There are always girls around, hangers-on. You’d call them groupies. I can’t say I’m immune to them; I’ve probably bedded more of them than I should have. But that kind of thing doesn’t last.”

  “Any of them recently?” The words escaped before she could bite them back.

  Logan pulled her to him, his arms going around her waist. “No. Not a one since you. I don’t want anyone but you. With the others, usually I was just tired of being alone on the road. Not the best reason to take someone to bed, but there it is.”

  Olivia could feel the warmth of his body against hers, his strong arms holding her. She looked up, lost for a moment in his eyes. He leaned down. His lips were soft when he kissed her, but beneath the gentleness of the moment, she sensed his arousal, the passion from their first encounter barely contained beneath the surface.

  Her body remembered this feeling, his lips on hers, his hands on her body. But she wasn’t even a little tipsy this time, and the voice that had been absent before spoke up loud and clear. This is uncharted territory. It’s not safe. It’s wrong on so many levels.

  But louder and more insistent was the voice that told her this was a once in a lifetime chance at something she had never experienced before.

  Logan drew back to look into Olivia’s eyes. His expression was uncertain, and he rubbed a hand over her back like he was trying to take some of the resurrected tension from her body. “I see I’ll have my work cut out for me this time,” he said, smiling at her. “Maybe the Macallan was more helpful than I thought.”

  “Last time you weren’t a client,” Olivia pointed out. “The stakes are higher. And it’s more real, this time. Everything’s in sharper focus, I guess. I’m not seeing you through a haze of alcohol and self-pity.” She pressed herself closer to him. “But I want to be here.”

  “’More real.’ I don’t believe I’ve ever been called that. But I have been called worse.” Logan’s hands splayed across her back to pull her nearer, and his smile lit up his eyes. Then he grew more serious for a moment. “Are the stakes too high? Is this worth risking whatever it is that you have to lose?”

  Olivia wrapped her arms around Logan’s neck. Her body responded to his touch, his solid warmth, his undeniable sex appeal. A smile pulled at the corners of her lips despite her anxiety. “I think you could be,” she admitted. “But you’ll have to work at winning me over this time.” Her smile widened. “No magic potion.”

  Someone knocked. Olivia startled. The abrupt sound was accompanied by a discreet call of “Room service.” Logan kissed Olivia’s forehead and stepped away to open the door. A deferential waiter pushed a cart carrying their dinner into the room, prominent among the covered dishes a bottle of Macallan and two glasses.

  As the waiter left, Olivia saw Logan slip the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door before turning the lock. She tried unsuccessfully to suppress a giggle. Logan turned, mock serious frown on his face, but amusement lighting up his eyes.

  “I’m serious here,” he said. “You told me I have work to do. I want no chance of being interrupted.”

  Olivia waved her hands. “Oh, I know. It’s just...” She collapsed onto the couch in a fit of giggles. “I’m sorry. It’s just—I’m not laughing at you.”

  “I think you are,” Logan retorted, with no anger in his voice. “But I don’t mind.” He watched as she regained control. “You’re a bit skittish, and I understand. Maybe a case of the nervous giggles.” He reached out a hand to her, and she took it, letting him pull her up off the couch.

  “I’d just won a big case last time,” she said. “And just been dumped by my fiancé. My emotions were all over the place. And I was maybe a little tipsy when you rescued me.” She shook her head. “I tried to make you out to be the bad guy, but really I just wanted someone to blame. And I think you’re growing on me.”

  “Flatterer,” Logan laughed. “If you don’t stop being so complimentary, you’re going to give me an awfully inflated ego.”

  Olivia opened her mouth to respond, but Logan’s lips found hers and her reply was lost. His kiss was not only sensual and skilled, but intense, full of passion and touched with the longing that she remembered his kisses held. She let herself relax into his arms, let the kiss consume her.

  They broke apart for air. He straightened, arms still loosely around her waist. Eyes closed, Olivia swayed forward, lips parted. Her eyelids fluttered open.

  “Oh,” she breathed, dazed.

  “What do you think? Am I winning you over?”

  “Winning,” Olivia said, leaning in close once more. “Definitely.”

  “Are you ready to move from this spot, then?” Logan purred. “Because as much as I enjoy kissing you, I’d rather be doing it between the sheets.”

  “You have such a way with words, Logan.”<
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  Hand in hand, they moved from the warmly-lit living room through the tiny hallway, to the darkened bedroom she stood in Logan’s arms, slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt.

  “You know,” she said when he made no move to do anything but watch. “You could participate.”

  Her heart was beating fast, and she wasn’t sure if it was arousal or nerves. Olivia didn’t care; the consequences could wait.

  “I don’t want to spook you,” Logan said. His voice was gentle, and so was his hand when he brushed a lock of hair back from her face. “I want you taking your own sweet time.”

  Olivia undid the last button and pulled the shirt from his shoulders, running her fingers over the expanse of his chest.

  “I’m not skittish anymore, Logan.” She reached down and caught his hands in hers, guiding them up her body to cup her breasts. “I’m ready. I want this.”

  Logan groaned, low in his throat, and leaned down to claim her mouth, one hand curling tight around her hip. Any reservations that might have been lingering between them melted away, and Olivia met him fully, seeking just as much from him as he did from her.

  Eyes closed, she felt his hands moving over her body, felt the tug of the zipper on her skirt being pulled down, the soft whisper of fabric against her skin as he removed her blouse. She shivered slightly as cool air moved across her mostly naked body, then again as Logan held her against his warmth. Somewhere along the way he’d removed his jeans. He rolled his hips against hers, his arousal evident.

  “Come with me,” he breathed against her ear, and Olivia was reasonably sure she would have followed him anywhere just to hear that intimate whisper again.

  He led her to the bed, laying her gently down on the soft sheets. Olivia took the brief moment to catch her breath, only for it to stutter in her chest at the sight of him as he settled down to join her.

  “What do you say to long and slow and more than once?” he asked, his smile still sweet, but the heat in his eyes a clear measure of his intent.

  Olivia took a shuddering breath. No one had ever looked at her the way that Logan was. Not even Patrick. It made her chest tighten in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. She lifted one hand to press against his cheek and nodded, not trusting her voice. Ethics and rules could be left by the wayside; what she felt when she was wrapped in his arms was all that mattered.

  Logan’s smile grew. He leaned down, and she felt the curve of it against her lips until he deepened the kiss, his smile replaced with heated desire. With a smooth roll of muscle, he settled himself over her and parted her legs.

  His first thrust took her by surprise. Not in its force, or in his size, but in the total certainty with which he laid claim to her. There was no doubt in her mind that she was what he wanted, and he was taking what was his. And Olivia gladly gave him what he sought.

  She met him as an equal, taking as much as giving. Logan offered her pleasure, no argument there, but he also gave her something else, something Patrick had never managed.

  Beyond Logan’s sheer physical presence and his intoxicating sexuality, beyond the delicious movement of their bodies together, his arms around her offered security, and the freedom to let herself go. There was no calculation in his touch, no judgement in his eyes. He didn’t hold back, and he didn’t expect her to. His easy acceptance gave her the freedom to let the experience touch her heart.

  Near the end, as she cried out and arched against him, he held her face between his hands. His mouth brushed against her eyelids, her cheeks, her lips. All of his focus was on her, had been on her from the beginning. He murmured soft words she didn’t understand against her neck, and the vibration of them danced along nerves already shivering with ecstasy. Pleasure washed over her, bringing release with it. Her arms clutched Logan. Her legs wrapped around his hips. His words were lost in her cries.

  He joined her, then. His head thrown back, his body seeking its own release. Olivia watched as he gave himself over fully to what his body was experiencing, emotions playing openly across his face. It was... surprising—surprising and wonderful—to see him so unrestrained, letting himself go as freely as she had. Patrick had always held back, she realized as Logan looked down at her, dark eyes as dazed as she felt, a blissful smile on his beautiful mouth. And she, in turn, had never entirely let herself go till then.

  Boneless with afterglow, she lay in Logan’s arms. Both of them were still breathless, still a little unsteady in the aftermath. Olivia was reluctant to move, or to speak, not wanting to break the bonds between them. Minutes passed.

  It was Logan who finally took the initiative, lifting up on one elbow to look down at her. “That was good for you then?” Even in the dim light, she saw the teasing glint in his eye.

  “As you would say... Aye. T’was.” Giggles overtook her as Logan rolled his eyes, shaking his head in mock reproach. “Oh, no. I’m sorry. Never let me try to imitate you again.”

  Logan rolled onto his side next to her, and Olivia’s giggles subsided. His fingers traced the line of her cheek, her earlobe, moving down over her throat. She took his head, kissing his fingertips. “But yes. It was good. More than good.”

  It was Logan’s turn to laugh. “You’ll be giving me an unmanageable ego if you keep that up.” He grew serious. “But it is special. What’s between us. There’s something different with you, Olivia.” His hand still traced patterns over her skin, slow and preoccupied, his attention on what he was saying. “Sex is sex, and I’ve had plenty of that. Fun, yes, but nothing more. With you... it goes deeper. Lasts longer. I feel you here...” He took her hand, placing it against his chest, over his heart.

  Olivia felt her cheeks grow hot. It would have been better to tell him he was wrong. But she couldn’t. “It is,” she said. “Special. It’s—” She looked away from him, then back. “What were you saying to me towards the end? Those words? I couldn’t understand you.”

  “It’s Gaelic. Tha gaol agam ort...” Logan went silent, rolling onto his back, still holding her hand. She could feel his heart beating beneath her fingers.

  “And? What does it mean?” She leaned on her elbow, looking down at him as he lay with his eyes closed. He spoke without opening them.

  “Don’t be alarmed...remember, it was spoken in the heat of the moment. I don’t expect the same sentiment from you; I have no claim to lay there.”

  He opened his eyes, his look direct, unflinching. “It means ‘I love you’.”

  Olivia’s eyes widened. “And do you?”

  Logan turned toward her, kissing her fingertips. “I did when I said it.”

  “Do you still?” The words threatened to catch in her throat. He must be teasing me.

  But his eyes were serious, as was his voice. “Aye. I do. I know you don’t believe in love at first sight, but I’m holding to it, Olivia. And I’m willing to wait as long as you need for you to find out if you feel the same.”

  For a long moment, Olivia didn’t speak. She wasn’t sure which words would leave her mouth if she did.

  “Why did you leave last time without waking me?” she asked finally. “Why just a note?”

  “I was wondering when you’d ask about that.” Logan sighed. “It was selfish; I had a plan to catch, and I knew if I woke you there’d be no hope for me. I’d have never left. I wanted you too badly.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her in close, trailing fingers through her hair. “I saw you there, asleep, in the wee hours of the morning, and I thought I’d never seen anything so beautiful in my life. I wanted to wake you and take you, then and there. But I wrote a note instead, snuck away like a fool, and then... Well. We know the rest.”

  Olivia laid her head against his shoulder. His arm tightened around her.

  “I am sorry, Olivia. Truly. It was a coward’s way out. I should have woken you, made love to you again. Left you happy.” A smile slipped into his voice. “At the very least, I should have sung you back to sleep.”

  He sounded, Olivia thought, like he was wai
ting for her to declare him unfit and flee the room. She smiled against his chest. “It’s in the past now,” she said, gentle. “And I suppose I can forgive you for it.”

  She sat up enough to look at him. “Provided that you never do it again.”

  “Aye,” Logan laughed. “Never again.”

  The hand that had been idly stroking her hair curled into it, and he drew her down to him, his mouth finding hers. His teeth nipped at her lower lip, and Olivia gasped.

  “You do things to me,” he said, low and rough-edged. “Things that no woman has ever done. I can’t explain it.”

  His fingers traced the curve of her cheek as he spoke, over her throat, down to the fullness of one breast. She gasped again as they caressed her. His lips followed, and she arched up into the warmth of his mouth.

  When he lifted his head, she cried out softly in protest, and he rubbed a hand over her hip.

  “You’re all that I need,” he said, so close that his breath washed across her skin. “All that I’ll ever want.”

  It was a long time before they slept.

  Chapter Seven

  Olivia woke with a start. The room was still dark, the bed unfamiliar. But she knew she was in Logan’s hotel room. She rolled over, reaching for him, and found his arm and then his broad chest with her hands. He made a soft noise. Stirred awake. Without speaking, he rolled toward her, pulling her against his body, his mouth finding hers in the dark. The kiss had that same longing intensity, searching her lips for answers.

  It would be so easy to give in, to surrender to their desires and let him take her on that wild ride again. Olivia gently pushed him away instead and heard him sigh in the dark.

  “Logan, I can’t.” She bit her lip where he couldn’t see. “I have to... I need to go home and change. I can’t be late to work, and Ryan wants to meet with me. About your case.”

  She stumbled a little over the words and hoped Logan wouldn’t notice. She was going to have to deal with Ryan, and whatever wrong impression he’d clearly gotten from her. But before that... The realization of what she’d done hit her like a physical force. Her stomach dropped.