He stiffened. ‘I don’t spend all my life eating in expensive restaurants.’
Her amusement had annoyed him, she could tell that. ‘I’m sorry, I—Paul!’ she exclaimed in dismay as the baby let out an agonised yell. ‘Excuse me,’ and she hurried from the room.
The little boy was standing up in his cot crying for all he was worth, his cherubic face creased up as the tears flowed freely.
‘It’s all right, darling,’ Callie soothed as she plucked him up into her arms, a tiny nappy-clad figure in a pair of navy blue pyjamas, his blond curls ruffled into disorder.
He didn’t seem to want to stop crying, not even after she had changed his nappy and applied the soothing cream to his gums. He just kept screaming, his breath coming in short gasping sobs, and she was beginning to panic when Logan opened the nursery door.
‘What’s wrong?’ he frowned, looking totally out of place in this baby-orientated room.
Callie gave him an angry glare. ‘Well, if I knew that—’
‘Okay, okay,’ he cut her off tersely. ‘So you don’t know what’s wrong with him?’
‘No,’ she snapped resentfully.
‘Give him to me,’ Logan instructed.
Her arms tightened protectively about the soft, cuddly body. ‘He doesn’t usually take to strangers.’
He sighed his impatience. ‘I’m not going to hurt him.’
‘I didn’t think you were!’
‘Then hand him over,’ he said abruptly, his jaw rigid.
To her surprise Paul stopped crying as soon as he was in Logan’s arms, his little arms going about the man’s neck, his head flopping down tiredly on his shoulder.
‘His teething cream will stain your shirt,’ Callie whispered worriedly.
‘I’ll cry about it later,’ he taunted.
A lump caught in her throat at the trusting way Paul was watching Logan with his big blue eyes. There was a saying about not being able to fool animals and children about a person’s nature, and Paul obviously trusted Logan implicitly.
Logan was talking to the baby soothingly now—although what he was saying made Callie blush. ‘So you’re the one keeping Callie awake at night, hmm? I must admit I’d prefer more mature competition.’
‘Logan!’ she said warningly.
He chuckled softly. ‘You know he doesn’t understand a word.’
‘No, but I do,’ she blushed.
‘You go and tidy up while Paul and I have a man-to-man talk,’ he said with amusement.
Callie went, not wanting to hear what might be said to the baby next. What an infuriating man he was turning out to be!
To her surprise Logan quietly left the nursery about ten minutes later.
Her eyes widened. ‘Asleep?’
‘Asleep,’ he nodded.
‘How did you do it? Marilyn sometimes walks up and down with him all night, and it doesn’t do any good.’
Logan sat down, stretching his long legs out in front of him. ‘That’s because he doesn’t like being walked up and down. I sat down with him in the rocking-chair and just talked to him.’
‘Oh,’ she frowned her chagrin.
‘Yes,’ he was smiling now. ‘I told him it isn’t polite to interrupt another man’s date with a beautiful woman, and that he would have to wait until he was older and get his own girl-friend.’
‘Oh!’ She was blushing now.
He shrugged. ‘He understood perfectly. And now that he’s asleep…’
She watched in trepidation as he stood up to come determinedly towards her. ‘Er—Would you like dessert? I have some fresh fruit in my flat, or—’
‘You,’ he said softly.
‘Me?’ Callie gulped.
‘I’d like you for dessert. Or at least,’ he smiled at her expression of panic, ‘a portion of you.’
She would have liked to ask which portion, but it was already too late. Logan had joined her in her armchair, and as it wasn’t made to accommodate two people they were pressed very close together, Logan tenderly cupping her chin as his mouth claimed hers, gently at first, and then with increasing passion as she didn’t resist him.
Callie had been waiting for him to kiss her again ever since that first probing kiss, and her arms went up about his neck as she kissed him back, her body straining against his.
He kissed her throat, the hollow between her breasts visible by her partly unbuttoned blouse, his lips moving up to once again claim hers.
Callie felt as if she had known this man all her life, as if she had been kissed and touched by him before. And yet she hadn’t, she knew practically nothing about him but his name, and it was this lack of knowledge that finally made her pull away from him, holding him at arm’s length.
Logan was reluctant to release her, his grey eyes glazed with a passion that matched hers. ‘Callie…?’ he groaned, his dark hair ruffled by her fingertips, the top two buttons of his shirt undone by those same fingers.
But she hadn’t been able to resist the desire to touch him, to feel the smoothness of his flesh, to touch his heated body. And Logan had liked her to touch him, had encouraged her caresses with gruff murmurs in his throat.
‘I—Don’t rush me,’ she blushed. ‘I don’t even know you.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Do you need to?’
‘Yes.’
‘Okay,’ he accepted with a sigh. ‘Maybe I’d like to know more about you too. Let’s get more comfortable, hmm?’
Before she was hardly aware of it Logan had shifted in the chair so that he was the only one sitting in it, with her seated on his thighs, his arms firmly about her waist.
‘This is more comfortable?’ she derided.
Logan looked up with a grin, his eyes on a level with her breasts. ‘Well, isn’t it?’ he drawled.
‘For you maybe—’
‘But not for you?’
She would have liked to have said no, but the truth of the matter was it was very comfortable, and the smell of his tangy aftershave was very potent to the senses. He smelt clean and masculine, and it felt very good to sit with him like this, made her feel small and protected. But then Logan’s height and breadth were such that any woman would feel this way when she was with him.
‘Are you still seeing Danielle?’ she probed.
Her interest in the other woman seemed to please him. ‘Meaning are you one of a number?’ he taunted.
‘Am I?’
‘No,’ he smiled. ‘I’m too old to cope with the intricacies of having two women in my life at the same time. I told Danielle on Saturday that I wouldn’t be seeing her again.’
Callie’s eyes twinkled mischievously at his description of being ‘too old’. ‘How old are you?’ she mocked.
‘Thirty five. Don’t tell me, you have a rule never to go out with a man over thirty,’ he groaned.
‘No,’ she laughed, ‘I don’t have a rule like that.’
‘I do,’ Logan told her ruefully.
Her mouth quirked teasingly. ‘Never to go out with a man over thirty?’
‘No, minx,’ he laughed softly. ‘Never to go out with a woman under twenty-five. And you are, aren’t you?’
‘Just a bit,’ she nodded.
He winced. ‘How much of a bit?’
‘Oh—about three years,’ she told him mischieviously.
‘Twenty-two!’ he groaned, closing his eyes.
Callie frowned, seeing that it really was important to him. ‘Does it bother you that much?’
He shrugged. ‘It won’t have to, will it?’
‘But does it?’
His arms tightened about her waist. ‘Not if it doesn’t bother you.’ It was almost a question.
‘It doesn’t,’ she answered without hesitation.
‘I was hoping you would say that.’ His lips moved caressingly across her throat. ‘What else would you like to know about me?’
‘I’m only curious—’
‘Of course. What else, Callie?’
She gave him a look of irrit
ation for his mockery ‘Do you have any family?’
‘Unfortunately, yes,’ he said dryly.
‘Logan!’
‘Sorry, little one,’ he chuckled. ‘I have a mother, but she wasn’t included in that “unfortunately”. My uncle, aunt, and cousin were the unfortunately. My mother is a darling, although her match making has become tiresome lately,’ he added with a frown.
‘Maybe she would like grandchildren,’ Callie blushed. There was something unsettling about discussing a man’s offspring with him on a first date!
‘I’m sure she would,’ Logan agreed. ‘But as it means I have to take a wife she’s going to be disappointed.’
Her eyes widened. ‘You don’t intend getting married?’
He sighed, completely serious now. ‘I suppose one day I’ll have to.’
‘Have to?’
‘Mm. There’s the family business. I’ll need someone to take that over. It certainly isn’t going to fall into my cousin’s clutches,’ he added darkly.
‘You don’t like him?’
‘He’s an idiot.’
‘Logan!’ she laughed her surprise at this cruelty.
‘Well, he is,’ he dismissed. ‘He’s been dominated by his parents all his life.’
Rather like Donald. ‘I know what you mean,’ Callie nodded her understanding.
Logan’s brows rose. ‘You?’
‘No,’ she smiled, ‘just a—a friend. I had a very happy childhood, my parents were wonderful.’
‘Were?’
‘They’re both dead now.’
‘That’s tough,’ he commented.
‘Yes. You mentioned you were in business—what business is that?’
He looked sceptical. ‘You mean you don’t know?’
‘Of course not. I—Carrington…? Carrington Cosmetics?’ she groaned.
‘Right first time,’ he drawled.
Callie didn’t like the way he said that, almost as if she had been pretending not to know he owned the famous cosmetic company. Goodness, she probably wouldn’t have spoken to him if she had known. He was the Logan Carrington, the playboy owner of Carrington Cosmetics. No wonder Danielle had seemed vaguely familiar—she was the girl on posters and television who advertised the newest Carrington perfume, Passion, the perfume Callie had given Marilyn for her last anniversary!
Goodness, this evening of baby-sitting and eating take-out Chinese food was even more out of character for Logan than she had realised. She struggled out of his arms and moved to the other side of the room.
Logan watched her, dark and dominating, his appearance less immaculate than when he had arrived, although no less disturbing. ‘You didn’t know, did you?’ he said quietly.
Callie sighed. ‘This may be a blow to your ego, but no, I didn’t know.’
‘Hell, I’m sorry, Callie. I thought—’
‘You thought I was attracted to the owner of Carrington Cosmetics and not Logan Carrington the man,’ she said wearily.
He stood up. ‘I can see I was wrong—’
‘You were!’ She was angry now. ‘I had a friend who told me that possessions don’t make the man.’
Logan looked abashed. ‘She was very astute—’
‘He,’ Callie corrected abruptly. ‘My friend was male. And I think that tonight I’ve finally understood what he meant.’ And she also understood how Jeff had known that. He could have been another Logan Carrington, could have used his power and influence many times to make life easier. But Jeff hadn’t needed the trappings of money and position to make him the most wonderful man she had ever known. She didn’t know how she could ever have remotely likened Logan Carrington to Jeff! ‘I think you’d better leave,’ she said distantly.
‘Callie—’
‘Please,’ she shook her head. ‘The same friend also said that money warps people, and after tonight I’m inclined to agree with that too.’
Logan drew in an angry breath, his nostrils flaring, his lips thinning. ‘Maybe we were better off not knowing about each other.’ He picked up his jacket. ‘I wasn’t aware that I was spending the evening with a narrow-minded girl who’s easily influenced by other people’s misguided opinions.’
‘I’m not—’
‘Aren’t you?’ He shrugged his shoulders into the velvet jacket. ‘You’ve just quoted the opinions of some long-haired lout who’s read his way through a few Marxist books and now thinks he’s an authority on socialism. Tell me, Callie, if it works so well why are so many people defecting from Russia?’
‘I—’
‘Because it doesn’t work, that’s why,’ he told her coldly. ‘On paper it’s Eden, all for one and one for all. But in theory it’s just oppression at its worst. Okay, so I have money, and I made it by producing such frivolous things as cosmetics and perfumes. Maybe your young friend should take a vacation in one of these socialist countries, see how those people really live!’
She had opened a hornets’ nest. Logan flushed with anger, his eyes cold. ‘I didn’t mean—’
‘No, I’m sure you didn’t,’ he sneered. ‘Go back to your socialist friends, Callie. And in future I’ll stick to my rule not to get involved with impressionable children!’
‘Logan—’
‘Goodbye, Callie!’
He slammed the flat door so loud as he left that Paul instantly woke up, taking her attention for the next half an hour. But Logan was right about the talking. Paul slowly drifted back to sleep as she rocked him in the chair, murmuring softly to him all the time.
The flat seemed very quiet when she came out of the nursery, and strangely lonely too, the only reminder of Logan’s presence here this evening the faint aroma of his aftershave.
She hadn’t meant to anger him, and he had been completely wrong about Jeff. He hadn’t been a socialist, he had felt that if someone worked for what they earnt then they were entitled to it, but he had obviously felt that the money he received from Spencer Plastics was not made by his merit but because of who he was. She hadn’t meant to imply that Logan hadn’t worked for his money, hadn’t wanted him to storm out of here never to see him again.
And she wouldn’t see him again, she knew that. Heavens, if only he knew, she was just as much of a capitalist as he was, was part owner of a successful firm, had so much money coming to her she didn’t know what to do with it!
It got so late that in the end she dozed on the sofa, receiving one telephone call from Bill to tell her that there had been no change in his father-in-law’s condition.
There had been no further word from him when she finally crawled, stiff with discomfort, from the sofa at seven o’clock the next morning. Paul would be waking for his breakfast in a minute, and what he was going to make of the absence of both his mother and father she had no idea. But she could take a good guess.
She had thought a lot about Logan Carrington during the long silent night, and she had decided she owed him an apology. Whether she had meant to or not, she had passed judgment on him, had been scornful and condescending about his way of life. She had been hypocritical, and she deserved his anger.
When Bill arrived home at seven-fifteen she was glad of his help with the inconsolable Paul. The poor baby was crying as if everyone had deserted him! And maybe to him it seemed as if they had.
But the arrival of his ‘Dad-dee’ did a lot to calm him, so much so that Callie even managed to get some cereal down him while she listened to Bill.
‘The doctor thinks Ted’s going to pull through now, the worst is over, thank God. But Edith, Marilyn’s mother, collapsed when the doctor told her he should be all right. Marilyn wants to move in with her mother for a while, and I think it’s probably the best thing too.’
‘Yes,’ Callie nodded understandingly. ‘Although I’ll miss you.’
‘Let’s hope it won’t be for too long,’ Bill said ruefully. ‘I know Ted’s ill, and Edith needs us, but I’m not sure I can take living with her for too long.’
‘I’m sure it won’t be for long,’ s
he assured him, being quite familiar with the discord between Bill and his in-laws. ‘You have to come back for Christmas, it will be Paul’s first real one. He was only three months old last year.’
‘That’s five weeks away. You don’t think we’ll be away that long?’ he groaned.
‘I hope not,’ she grinned.
Bill frowned. ‘You weren’t frightened here on your own last night?’
Callie suddenly became very interested in feeding Paul his cereal. ‘No, I was fine.’ She didn’t feel now was the time to tell Bill that she hadn’t spent the evening alone, just the night.
‘Was Paul good?’
‘Oh yes.’ She went on to tell him about the new trick of talking the baby to sleep.
‘I’ll tell Marilyn,’ he said absently. ‘Hey, would you mind packing Paul’s things while I deal with Marilyn’s and mine? Then you’ll have to be getting to work, won’t you?’
‘Heavens, yes,’ she groaned. ‘I’d forgotten!’
‘Well, from what I’ve discovered about Spencer Plastics so far you soon won’t have to work another day of your life if you don’t want to. I have to agree with your opinion of Sir Charles, he’s a snob of the first degree. He refused to see me at first, until I told his secretary I was your lawyer, then he was falling over himself to be polite.’ He smiled with remembered enjoyment. ‘I put on my most haughty air.’
‘Good for you!’ she laughed, lifting Paul down from his high-chair and carrying him through to the bathroom for his wash.
Bill followed, to help in the washing of his son. ‘I’m in the middle of doing a report for you. I’m afraid Ted’s stroke will put that back for a while. I’m going to have trouble doing my ordinary job, let alone this extra work for you.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ she dismissed. ‘The shareholders’ meeting isn’t for another three weeks, maybe you’ll have it finished by then?’
‘As there are only three of you, Sir Charles, his sister, and you, maybe they wouldn’t mind cancelling it for a while? I don’t want you going in there without all the facts.’
And she didn’t want to go grovelling to Sir Charles for more time either! ‘Maybe you could arrange that, if you get time,’ she added hopefully.
‘Of course,’ he agreed instantly. ‘It’s the least I can do. Just don’t worry about it for a while. And when you do go to the meeting I’ll be with you.’
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