In a hurry for his own lunchtime appointment, no doubt, tamping down her unease. Shani made her way through the heavy flow of cars, wending her way along the surface streets toward the Good Sport headquarters. Between the traffic and a few unfortunate red lights, Shani was five minutes late.
Set up amphitheater style, each of the two-hundred-plus seats with a pull-up desk, Good Sport’s large conference facility was packed. Stepping inside, Shani tried to see through the milling bodies, searching in vain for an empty seat. As she scanned the noisy room, she lingered on the face of each tall, dark-haired man, instinctively seeking out Logan. But if he was here, she couldn’t find him in the mass of people.
Just as she’d resigned herself to standing in the back, she spotted a friendly face. Marilyn, a Web designer on the MiniSport team, waved to Shani from the far end of the fifth row, gesturing beside her to what had to be a vacant seat. Shani threaded her way through the crowd, smiling and greeting the few other employees she recognized.
Once she’d made her way to the other end of the fifth row, Shani saw two empty places beside Marilyn. As Shani picked up the thick notebook on the seat next to Marilyn, she spied an index card in the aisle seat with reserved written across it. “Is the other for Clint?”
Marilyn pointed across the room. “He’s sitting over there with a couple of the other managers. He asked me to save this one for you.”
A woman Shani recognized from Human Resources shouted above the din for everyone to take their seats. With employees settling into their places, Shani finally had a clear view of the front of the room. In a cluster of a half-dozen men and women in business suits with visitor badges clipped to their lapels, Logan stood with his back to her.
Her breath caught at the sight of him, as if she hadn’t eaten dinner with him last night, hadn’t watched him drive away just that morning. The kiss they’d shared might as well have been yesterday instead of weeks ago. Her mouth still tingled from the memory, the flesh along the back of her neck warmed as if his breath curled there.
Whether he turned because he’d finished his discussion with the visitors or he sensed her focus on him, she didn’t know. She only prayed he couldn’t somehow detect the thoughts rampaging through her mind.
When he moved toward her, every nerve in her body seemed to fire at once. She had to will herself to remain in her seat instead of jumping to her feet and running from the room.
He picked up the fat black notebook on the seat beside her. “How are you?” he asked.
“That seat’s reserved,” she said, barely mustering the breath to speak.
“For me,” he told her.
Of course it was. “I think it would be better if we didn’t sit together.”
“It would.”
He pulled the desk up over his lap and set the black notebook on it. As the cluster of visitors assembled on the stage below, he leaned close enough for only Shani to hear his murmured words. “I had to be with you, anyway.”
His bald statement sent heat shooting through her. Then he shifted, bringing his knee within millimeters of her thigh. To an onlooker, it would seem innocuous. Logan had only needed to stretch out his long legs to get comfortable.
But to Shani, it was as if he’d claimed her by intruding ever so slightly into her space. She could ask him to move away, would have if it had been another man. But with Logan, she wanted to get closer, to touch him, to feel him skin to skin. Just as she had after that dinner two weeks ago.
The speaker seemed to drone on, incomprehensible to Shani’s overheated mind. Her world centered on an invisible thread of connection between her and Logan. Everyone else in the room might as well have vanished.
When the benefits presentation finally concluded, Logan slipped from the row to go speak with the visitors. Shani rose, relieved she wouldn’t have to squeeze past him to escape. Logan’s spell on her lingered, but her mind cleared enough that she could smile at Marilyn and say her goodbyes.
Just as she reached the door, about to make her escape, a hand brushed her shoulder. Logan’s voice rumbled in her ear. “I’ll see you tonight for dinner?”
She moved aside so that others could exit. “Yes. Of course.”
“I’ve made a reservation for seven o’clock at Il Paradiso.” He spoke softly, his expression neutral, no doubt to give the appearance of a businesslike conversation between them.
She didn’t know what would be worse—going out to dinner when she was tired from a long day or sharing the meal in the more intimate setting of his home or the cottage. She wanted to run away from him; she wanted to bring him closer.
“If you change it to seven-thirty, I could get a short nap in.” At least then she’d have more energy to resist the urgings of her overactive imagination.
“I’ll pick you up at seven, then.” He turned on his heel and walked away.
She walked to her car in a daze, wondering how she would absorb anything in her lectures today. She had to get her mind back on track. Considering the mire she was already in with her industrial organization class, it was imperative she give her afternoon classes her full attention.
It wasn’t until she was in her car, waiting to pull out into traffic, that she saw the dark green sedan parked in a far corner of the Good Sport lot. She wouldn’t have noticed it at all, except that it was backing from its parking space just as she passed the row.
It drove slowly along the aisle toward Shani, then stopped halfway down. Although traffic had cleared, Shani waited, looking back at the car, a prickling along her skin.
Movement caught her eye as a white minivan backed from its parking space between Shani and the green sedan. With a squeal of tires, the Nissan backed up, veered into the nearest lane, turned around and made a quick exit.
Shani hesitated long enough for the minivan’s driver to honk at her before she headed out herself and made her way to campus.
Chapter Seven
After disrupting Logan’s entire afternoon, it looked as if Shani would unsettle his evening as well. At seven-thirty-five, she had yet to make her appearance at Il Paradiso.
It was his own fault. He’d been tied up with a call to his manufacturing plant in Mumbai with no hope of getting home in time to pick Shani up at seven. He’d called her at six-thirty and they’d arranged to meet at the restaurant at the appointed time. He could tell from her sleepy, liquid voice that he’d woken her from her nap, and desire had shot through him as he imagined her warm under the covers.
Even now, the image had the power to drive heat through him. Logan lifted his glass of merlot and took a sip, hoping to douse the fire. But the fine wine couldn’t banish Shani from his awareness any more than work had since they parted company after the all-hands meeting.
Logan had chosen Il Paradiso because he knew the owners, Vince and Charlotte Anzalone, and because it was a place he conducted many of his business deals. He’d had some lunatic idea that he would be better able to behave himself here, at this watering hole for movers and shakers in the Sacramento area, than he could in Shani’s cottage.
But he’d forgotten Il Paradiso’s subdued lighting, the way the table layout and strategically placed greenery provided intimate niches for each customer. In the corner booth in which he’d been seated, he could kiss Shani, press her back against the soft leather and no one would be the wiser.
Damn. He shook his head to cast off his wayward thoughts, then checked his watch again. Seven-forty. Where was she?
Logan fumbled in his jacket pocket for his cell phone. Before he could dial, he caught a glimpse of Shani through Il Paradiso’s glass front doors. Then she stepped inside and all coherent thought vanished from his mind.
A dress the color of merlot shimmered on her body, clinging to her still-slender curves, spaghetti straps glittering with rhinestones. The full, flowing skirt barely cleared her knee, and the bodice covered her small breasts modestly, but every inch of visible skin glowed golden, begging for a man’s touch.
The waiter, Tre
nt, pointed her toward Logan’s table and she started through the dining room, every man in the place tracking her graceful progress. A state assemblyman sharing dinner with a lobbyist knocked over his water glass as she passed him; the CEO of a local tech firm jumped when his wife kicked him under the table for staring.
Logan rose to seat her, glad of the excuse to take her hand and ease her into the booth. Even Trent, who should have been as unmoved by Shani as he would by any woman, couldn’t seem to stop grinning as he hurried over to lay a napkin in Shani’s lap.
A surge of possessiveness took hold of Logan as he slid around next to her. Every man in the room was gasping with envy, but this woman was with him. Even as he realized how wrong that feeling was, even as he tried to suppress it, every cell in his body felt more alive now that Shani was here.
He grappled with his empty mind, trying to remember what he’d wanted to discuss with her tonight. “You’re late,” he finally said, at a loss to say anything else.
She reached for her water glass, Arianna’s silver unicorn necklace catching the light as Shani leaned forward. “I fell asleep again after you called and only woke up about thirty minutes ago. The first dress I pulled out of the closet wouldn’t zip up past my waist.” She looked around the room, a trace of worry on her face. “I hope this one is okay.”
He nearly laughed. The only problem was that Charlotte would be ticked when none of her male customers ate another bite due to the distraction Shani caused. “It’s fine,” he told her, a monumental understatement.
The kitchen door swung open and Charlotte zigzagged through the room with the salads Logan had ordered. Vince was right behind her with the pepper grinder, as if they didn’t have Trent and two other waiters to do the job.
Charlotte set the Caesar salads down and Vince wielded the two-foot-tall pepper grinder. Logan knew if he didn’t introduce them to Shani, the two would linger by the table until dessert was served.
“This is Shani Jacoby,” he told them. “She was a longtime friend of Arianna’s.”
That was enough to satisfy Vince, but Logan could still see the speculative look in Charlotte’s eyes. He knew the Anzalones well enough and could have told them the rest—about the surrogacy, the fact that Shani was staying at his estate. But the same possessiveness flared up. Just as he wanted Shani to himself, he wanted the news of her pregnancy to remain private for the moment.
When Charlotte and Vince returned to the kitchen, Logan brought the conversation around to what he needed to discuss with her. “I have a favor to ask.”
He saw the wariness in her gaze. “A favor?”
“There’s a dinner on Saturday, a charity event. I’d planned to go alone, but one of the guests at my table had to back out. I’d like you to come with me.”
“I’m going to be busy this weekend.”
Jealousy burned a hole in his stomach. “You have a date?”
“No.” She reached for another roll and set it on her plate. “I’ll be working on an extra-credit project for my industrial organization class.”
“You have to take a break for dinner.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
For the first time, he heard the distress in her voice. All those years married to Arianna, he at least could discern when a woman was unhappy. Whether he could do any more for Shani than he’d been able to do for his late wife was another matter.
“What’s going on, Shani? What’s the matter?”
She shook her head, as if unwilling to answer. “Tell me,” he prodded.
Her confession spilled out. “I’m nearly failing the class. The extra-credit project has to make up for the dismal grade I got on the midterm.”
Relief flooded Logan. This was something he could help her with. “You should have told me.”
Her head hanging, she tore apart her roll. “I kept hoping a light bulb would come on and I’d magically understand it all.”
Fingers pressing lightly against her cheek, Logan turned her to face him. “You should have asked me for help. I have an MBA, I’m CEO of an international company. I think I might know a little bit about industrial organization.”
She shook her head, dislodging his hand. “I can handle this on my own.”
“The hell you can. Not if you don’t understand the material. It makes no sense to keep beating your head against the wall.”
“I have to stand on my own two feet.” She tipped her chin up, but the tears glinting in her eyes told him that despite her brave words, she was groping for a lifeline.
“Who told you that?” he asked. “Your mother? Your long-lost father?”
She wouldn’t meet his gaze. “No one had to tell me.”
A sudden flash of insight supplied the answer. “It was the bastard that fathered your baby, wasn’t it? Right before he walked out and left you to deal with your pregnancy alone.”
Now her light brown eyes flashed with anger. “That isn’t any of your business.”
“I say it is. You’re pregnant with my child. I want you in top physical condition to give my baby its best chance of continuing to term. If you’re running yourself ragged in your classes, stressing yourself out because you’re too proud to ask for assistance, I’m stepping in.”
She held herself stiffly, tension clear in her face. “I can handle this on my own,” she said again, but there was little conviction in the soft-spoken declaration.
He pushed on. “We’ll have our dinners early the next four nights. We’ll go through your textbook, clarify any concepts you don’t understand. I’ll schedule my weekend so I’m available to answer questions while you’re working on the extra-credit project.”
Even as he laid out his intentions, he realized the one flaw in his plan. He would be extending the time he spent with her beyond the hour or so they shared at dinner. The longer the time they spent together, the greater the temptation, the greater the test of his ability to resist touching her, kissing her again.
She fixed her gaze on him and for a moment, he wondered if she could read what was in his mind. “I don’t want you taking over every corner of my life. There has to be some part of me I can keep to myself.”
Every part of her seemed like a mystery to him. And he felt as if he was the one under her control. “Then consider it part of your job training. Consider it quid pro quo for attending the fund-raiser with me and filling out my table. But I’m not letting you fail the damn class out of stubbornness.”
Shani’s eyes narrowed, anger flashing in them, but Trent’s arrival at the table with their food derailed whatever she intended to say. She ate her linguine with white clam sauce in silence, but he could sense the explosion simmering under the surface.
Shani tamped down her ire with an effort, the cascading emotions within her tying her stomach up in knots. But she forced herself to eat at least half the plate of pasta the waiter had brought. She loved linguine with white clam sauce, but the fact that Logan had ordered it for her without asking her preference was just further proof of his domination of her every waking moment.
She waved off the cannoli that arrived shortly after the waiter cleared the plates. Uncanny that he’d picked her favorites—she adored the crunchy pastry stuffed with sweetened ricotta. But as unsettled as she felt, she didn’t dare take even a taste of such a sensual delight.
She waited until the waiter had brought Logan’s coffee and left them alone again. “I’ll accept your help. I’ll attend the fund-raiser with you.” She took a breath. “But you can’t touch me anymore. You can’t…kiss me.”
He didn’t so much as move a millimeter closer to her, but his gaze flickered ever so briefly to her mouth. A kernel of heat burned deep within Shani in response.
He nodded. “Agreed.”
“In seven months, once your baby is born, we part company. We won’t have any further connection with each other.” She ignored the ache that settled around her heart.
His bland expression gave away nothing of how he felt about her pronou
ncement. She doubted it mattered to him one way or another. “You’re under no obligation to me after the baby is born.”
Despair filled her at the reminder. She’d known it all along, had told herself as much every day. This life growing inside her was never meant to be hers. She was only a vessel. And unlike her own son, there was not even a genetic link with the tiny being growing within her.
She was just tired, worried about school, on edge because of her persistent attraction to Logan. That and hormones had thrown her emotions out of whack. With a good night’s sleep she’d be able to put the situation back into perspective.
Once Logan had finished his dessert and coffee, he paid the check, then walked her to her car. She would have just as soon sat there for a few minutes to gather her thoughts, to try to find a balance for herself after the turmoil of the past hour, but she could see Logan’s Mercedes near the exit, waiting. No point in signaling him to go; even if he could have seen her wave in the dark, she doubted he would leave.
So she pulled in behind him and followed the taillights of the Mercedes back to Logan’s. Once they reached the private road that led to the estate, Shani flipped up her rearview mirror to avoid the glare of headlights from a car that was behind her. After Logan made his left into the drive, Shani had to wait for an oncoming truck to pass before she could turn.
Logan’s gate had shut before she reached it and she had to enter the code again. While she waited for the gate to open, she noticed the car following her was still there. She edged forward, although she knew she was clear of the street and that the dark sedan should be able to pass. But it didn’t move.
Fear trickled through her, urging her to punch the accelerator and get through the now-open gate. But anger welled up in the wake of fear, and she wrenched open the car door. She hurried toward the sedan, shouting out, “Who are you? What do you want?”
The car took off before she could see the driver, before she could even be certain it was the same dark green Nissan. It wasn’t until it had gotten well down the road that it occurred to her she should have noted the license plate number. But for all she knew, it was someone lost on the confusing, twisting roads of Logan’s neighborhood, and the crazy lady jumping from her car had frightened them.
His Miracle Baby Page 7