by Nicole Fox
“You look amazing; I knew you would clean up well.”
“Thanks,” Logan said, trying to keep his discomfort at this whole plan to himself.
But somehow she knew. “Don’t be nervous; you don’t have any lines. All you have to do is stand there and look mean.”
Logan made a grumpy face at her, crossing his muscled arms over his chest.
Running her emerald gaze over the length of him, she chuckled. “No, just a little meaner.”
Logan sneered a little harder, stood a little taller. And he was rewarded with a big smile on Francesca’s beautiful face.
“Damn, this woman is trouble.”
“See, you’re a natural at this.” Francesca reached out a hand to him, then quickly took it back, like she was having to fight not to touch him.
That thought sent fire through his blood.
“We’re doing an interview, so all we need is for you to be tough and a little overprotective. Make it seem like I’m something precious to you that you are guarding with your life. Don’t say anything. These TMZ guys are like piranha fish; if you say a single word, they’ll find a way to twist it. We’re going to make up some story about a break in or something as an excuse for why I suddenly need a bodyguard.” Francesca had a paper rolled up under her arm, and she took it out to bang it on the table a few times. It made a hollow thump thump thump sound as she pondered his appearance. “I know what you need!” she said snapping her fingers and throwing the newspaper to the table of his dressing room. “An earpiece. Let me see what I can find for you.”
Francesca left, and Logan heaved a sigh. “This is going to be harder than I thought,” he whispered out loud to himself. Every inch of that woman turned him on, and every inch of him wanted to touch every one of those inches. But he shouldn’t be here.
Glancing down, Logan caught an eyeful of the photo on the front page that Francesca had been carrying around. The photo was huge, in color, and on the front of the entertainment section. The picture was of two, attractive, smiling young people, hand in hand, dressed to the nines. The young man was a redhead with pale skin and a handsomely chiseled face. The girl looked like she could have been a model out of any magazine, her lithe figure wrapped in a sparkling gown that drew the eye. But the shining dress couldn’t distract Logan from the words printed in bold above the photo.
DAVIS THORNE AND FRANCESCA SAVOY ON THE ROCKS
Thorne seen at the Starlight Gala with new lady. Francesca nowhere in sight!
“Davis Thorne, hmm? This is the boy we are trying so hard to make jealous. He doesn’t look like much.” But Logan turned away from the photo, trying to keep his opinion out of it. It was none of his business, after all.
But he wanted it very much to be his business.
# # #
Francesca
“It was a horrible break in. I no longer feel safe being alone.” Francesca managed to squeeze a few tears out at those words. “We are doing what we can to recover. Since nothing went missing, we haven’t gotten the police involved, but it just had me a little worried.” She glanced gratefully up a Logan, her face lighting up to see him standing so close to her. She could feel herself tense a little, thrills running along every single one of her nerves at the sight of that body so close to hers. “Thankfully, I don’t have to be alone anymore.”
The reporter looked a little surprised when Francesca turned back to him. “You two seem to have a little more going on than that.”
Francesca didn’t have to pretend to blush at that. “Is that so? We are quite good friends.”
“Just friends?” the reporter asked, his tone very suggestive.
“Good friends,” Francesca answered, winking a little at him.
“Well, I’m glad you found something to make you feel safer. I’m surprised that with a break in like that, you want to be out in public so soon.”
Francesca sat up a little straighter, fire in her emerald eyes. “I may have taken a few extra precautions, but I will never hide away because of a threat or a break in. A Diamond never submits.”
The reporter asked a few more questions and made a few more suggestive remarks about Logan, brushing up against, but never quite asking, if Francesca and Logan were in a relationship. Francesca answered the questions with dignity, pretending she didn’t notice the growing chemistry between them.
The interview went well, at least by Diane’s standards. Davis would probably see the interview in the morning, if Francesca knew TMZ. She still felt guilty at manipulating Davis’s emotions for money, but it was what her mother wanted. Why had she made that stupid bet? “I really wish Mother hadn’t insisted on me getting back with Davis. The only thing that could make this worse would be a sobbing phone call from Davis, begging for me back.” Unsure how to feel, Francesca and her sexy bodyguard returned to her place.
Chapter Eight
Logan
“A most perfect interview,” Francesca said, and not for the first time. But her emerald eyes were dull and unhappy. “I don’t think it could have gone better if I had scripted it!” She laughed, her giggles sounding hollow to his ears. “Didn’t it go well, Logan?”
He made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, opening the door to her mansion a little too hard. All this for some cheating prick that doesn’t deserve her. Logan sighed, trying not to make his distaste too obvious. This was for the money, he told himself for the thousandth time.
But that was difficult to remember when she was so close to him. “I’m going to win,” she said, pulling off her boots and tossing them haphazardly to the side. “And,” she said, turning to face Logan as she closed the door, “I like winning.”
Before he could stop her, Francesca was too close. So close he could smell the coconut of her conditioner and the spicy, sort of cinnamon scent of her skin. The mix filled his nostrils with the smell of her, and Logan could immediately feel his body react, hardening up like he was still a teenager with no control.
It was too late when Francesca noticed, her eyes glittering as she made that final spin, putting her within easy reach for a kiss. Their eyes locked. The false smile faded from her lips, replaced by a kind of confused awe. His whole body on fire, Logan did the stupidest thing he’d ever done in his life.
He kissed Francesca Savoy.
Her lips tasted like candy-flavored lip gloss, the clean smell of her invading to lay claim to Logan’s sex-clouded mind. Her lips were soft, pliant from surprise, and full under his own, and Logan nearly shuddered under the power of that gentle brush of lips.
Realizing his mistake immediately, Logan pulled back, nearly slamming his head into the front door as he tried to put some space in between them. Francesca looked up at him through her long, dark eyelashes, her bedroom eyes darkening with something that looked a lot like lust. Her tiny, beautiful wrists came up to rest on his shoulders, her fingers sliding along the back of his neck.
There was something intensely innocent about her too-big eyes, about the way her lips formed a pout that set every inch of Logan’s body aflame. With a shy-looking smile, Francesca inched forward. Logan’s breath hissed violently through his teeth as he inhaled sharply. But that didn’t stop her.
Tugging on his shoulders with her delicate hands, Francesca bent Logan to her will. No matter how much stronger he was, he couldn’t have fought Francesca off if he’d wanted to.
And right now, he really, really didn’t want to.
Pulling her closer, Logan picked Francesca up into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding herself up and pressing her perfect mouth to his. This kiss was much less gentle, the hunger of her lips, tongue, and teeth assaulting his common sense. He knew this was wrong, that a guy like Logan didn’t belong in a world like Francesca’s. But he couldn’t seem to convince his body of it.
But then there was a knock on the door behind him, and it shattered whatever had built up between them.
# # #
Francesca
Francesca was liv
id with whoever was on the other side of that door. God, Logan was hot. Her whole body was on fire just from a single kiss, and she could drown a person in her panties right now. No one had ever made her feel this way with just a kiss, no one had ever made her so wet without even trying.
Never in her whole life had she ever wanted to take someone right on the damned hardwood floor of her front room.
Taking a deep breath, Francesca untangled herself from Logan, dropping back to her feet. She wiped her mouth off with the back of her hand, her eyes dripping fiery rage. Taking another, deeper breath, she tried to re-center and realign herself in preparation for whatever visitor was on the other side of her front door.
Logan stepped away, but not too far away.
Francesca braced herself, then opened the door. Her face slackened with surprise, her whole body turning into one giant piece of ice. Never in her life had she ever gone from being turned on to cold granite in a matter of seconds, but seeing Davis Thorne knocking at her door felt like a bucket of ice water being poured over her.
She stood there, staring at her ex stupidly, a war of emotions twisting up her insides. He looked much the same as he always did: handsome, put together, and clean cut. Pale and proper.
Francesca waited for the rise in her pulse and the butterflies in her stomach that normally occurred when he was around, but instead she just felt empty and cold.
Davis’s eyes ran up and down Francesca’s body like she was a purchase he was considering. Then his eyes moved over to Logan, whom Francesca temporarily forgot was still there.
“Can I help you?” she asked Davis, her feelings all jumbled up. She didn’t know what to think of him coming here.
“Hey, babe. Did you miss me?” he asked like nothing had happened between them. His mouth pulled up in that familiar, wicked half-smile, the one that Francesca used to find so completely charming.
It didn’t look charming now. Francesca crossed her arms over her chest. “No, I didn’t. And I’m not your babe anymore, so please get out.” The nerve of him! How dare he come into her house like nothing had changed!
“Oh, come on, babe, I just want to talk to you.” Davis held out his hands, a beseeching look on his beautiful face. “That’s all. Just want to talk. Alone.” He was suddenly glaring over at Logan again who was standing right behind Francesca. She couldn’t see Logan’s face, but she could feel the rage boiling up in him from here. Wincing, Francesca took a step back, pressing against Logan’s body. Suddenly, she felt a little better, and the world looked a little clearer.
“Anything you want to say to me, you can say in front of my bodyguard.” Francesca lifted her right hand, putting it over Logan’s which rested on her left shoulder.
Davis snorted, rolling his eyes. “Babe, it’s me. You don’t need a bodyguard between us. Just let me talk to you for a moment, alone. Outside. Five minutes, Francesca. That’s all I ask.”
Francesca wanted to open her mouth and tell him to screw off, that he didn’t deserve those five minutes, but the words caught in her throat. The expression on his face was one of pleading, and it was an expression that Francesca always gave into.
“Not happening.” Logan’s voice came from over her shoulder, quiet but firm. There was no arguing with a voice like that.
Annoyed, Francesca turned back to Davis. She didn’t like Logan assuming he could speak for her. She didn’t like it all. Sighing, she pushed those thoughts away. “Deal with Davis first, then talk to Logan about his sudden possessiveness.”
Davis, however, was a man used to getting his way. “Fine, Francesca. I try to come here and stitch fences, and you act like a spoiled little bitch.”
Francesca made a face. “You mean ‘mend fences,’ Davis,” she said, automatically. She hadn’t meant to correct his idiom, but it was so incredibly wrong that she couldn’t help herself.
Throwing his hands in the air, Davis just made a disgusted sound. Francesca could feel Logan’s hand tighten on her shoulder, probably in anger. “Seriously?”
Francesca cleared her throat, trying to get Davis to settle down a little. His anger along with Logan’s was making the massive front room of her house feel small. She needed to defuse this situation before it got any worse. “Just tell me why you are here, Davis. Please. Calmly.”
“Fine,” he snapped, turning to face her straight on, his eyes locked with hers. “I was hoping that you and I could talk about this misunderstanding and get back to where we had been. But I see there’s no point. Once you’re done sleeping with the help, you selfish cow, give me a call and maybe I’ll think about taking you back.”
Francesca felt hot, then cold, then hot again. Her skin crawled, her chest inflating with hot, angry air. Never in her life had she ever wanted to actually tear someone’s hair out, but Davis was really pushing the right buttons tonight. Taking a deep breath, Francesca didn’t know what she was going to say, but it was not going to be nice.
Unfortunately, Logan had the same sort of idea.
Before she could say anything or think to stop him, Logan had thrown himself forward, grabbing both of Davis’s arms into what looked like a wrestling hold. It looked painful, but not in a permanent way. But one small movement of Logan’s arms could pop Davis’s arm out of his socket or break a bone.
Francesca gasped, every muscle in her body locking up like someone had put her in a freezer.
Logan’s voice was void of all emotion when he said, “Take that back; that is the last time you show disrespect to Ms. Savoy.”
Chapter Nine
Logan
“There’s a right way to do things and a wrong way,” Francesca said, her voice soft like she was talking down a rabid animal. “And this is the wrong way, Logan.” Her beautiful green eyes were locked with his, her tone pleading.
The worst part was that Logan knew she was right. But more than anything in the world, Logan wanted to break this little bastard’s arm and show him what disrespecting women got you where he came from.
“If you do it, it will bring police reports and scrutiny, neither of which you can afford.” With a huff, Logan twisted just a tiny bit harder, making the wimpy idiot cry out in pain before finally releasing him. He wanted to clock the kid in the face so badly, he had to force himself to take a step away from the sobbing bitch to keep from doing it. That pretty face of his needed a little rearranging, but sadly, Logan was not going to be the one to do it.
“All right now, if you don’t mind. Logan, your job is to protect me from physical threats, not insults.” Her eyes are like fire as she stares him down. “Please apologize.”
“I am sorry, Davis,” Logan responded, sounding a little robotic. Although it was completely insincere, Davis seemed to take it at face value. Maybe he was just as bad at social cues as he was with everything else.
Davis rubbed his shoulder delicately, a sulky look on his face.
But Francesca knew how to handle him. She was like a diplomat, able to get anyone to agree with her, given enough time. “Now, Davis; you know there is no reason to insult me or the ‘help’ as you so brutishly referred to Logan. He’s a man that works for his bread, just like your father was before he made all of that money. There is no shame in working, and I expect you will treat my employees as you would anyone else.”
Looking slightly ashamed, Davis looked away from Francesca but didn’t say anything. Logan was shocked at the use of cajoling and stern talking-to that she used to turn both of their rages into faint shame. She defused the situation like a bomb technician, and Logan knew he’d found a woman with an incredible talent. She didn’t yell or curse, even though the man-child in front of her had cheated on her less than a week before.
By the time Davis left, Logan was filled with a kind of admiration he’d never felt for another human before. Francesca was one-of-a-kind. And, holy shit, was she hot.
# # #
Francesca
Closing the front door behind her, Francesca locked the door and took a deep breath. Well, th
at was over at least.
But now there was Logan to deal with.
She turned to face him, ready for a fight. Self-centered jerk was just staring at her like nothing had happened, a blank, almost bored expression on his sexy face. She kind of wanted to strangle him for causing all this trouble then having the nerve to look like he hadn’t done a single thing wrong.
“You know that Davis has the right to press charges if he wants to.” She crossed her arms over her chest as she stared Logan down. Anger honed his already sharp features, making the muscles in his jaw tense and making those sculpted features even more becoming. Francesca wanted to run her hands over that face again, feel his skin under her trembling fingers as she kissed him. Wrapping her arms close…