The One That Got Away (7 page)

‘I had his back though,’ murmured Evie. ‘If Max got too far in
debt to me I was going to start matching him, indiscretion for public
indiscretion.’

Logan’s eyes narrowed. Evie smiled and sipped at her
just-arrived soda. ‘You’re pulling my leg,’ he said finally.

‘Someone’s got to. You take life entirely too seriously.’

‘No, I take
contracts
seriously.
There’s a difference.’

‘If you say so.’

‘You’re sunburnt,’ he said and Evie nodded agreeably.

‘That’s because I’ve been to the beach.’

‘Was it good?’

‘Very good.’

‘Maybe there should have been sunscreen involved.’

‘There was. Though possibly not enough.’

‘What else do you do in your down time?’ he asked.

‘I like to travel. Explore new places. Even a new-to-me suburb
will do.’

‘On your own?’

‘It’s better with friends. But sometimes on my own.’

‘Any special friends I need to know about?’ he asked.

‘You mean lovers?’ she said and he nodded, his eyes narrowing.
‘No. I may not be marriage-ready, but one lover at a time will do.’

‘Am I currently the one?’

‘I don’t know.’ Time for truth and if it burned then so be it.
‘I guess that’s what I asked you here to find out.’

‘I’m only here for a week, Evie.’ His voice held a quiet
warning.

‘Sounds familiar.’ Hers held quiet challenge. ‘I like you,
Logan, in case you hadn’t noticed. Baggage and all. It wouldn’t be a hardship to
spend another week with you. Might even be fun.’

‘As opposed to...’

‘Intense, confusing, and ultimately heartbreaking. I’d like to
think that we have enough experience between us now to keep those elements out
of play.’

‘You don’t like intense?’

‘You’re right. There’s a lot to be said for intensity. That one
can stay.’

‘You calling the shots now, Evie?’

‘Only some of them. Feel free to voice your requirements
too.’

‘I want exclusivity,’ he said.

‘The feeling’s mutual.’

‘And freedom.’

‘I’ll do my freely exclusive best.’

‘Obedience.’

‘And sometimes you’ll get it.’ Evie edged closer, elbows to the
table, so much for manners. ‘You don’t want to dominate me completely, remember?
Or am I wrong about that?’

‘Just keep reminding me when I forget.’ He had his shoulders to
the padded black vinyl of the booth bench and one arm stretched out on the table
towards her. He looked gorgeous and confident and he leaned forward with a look
that spoke of barely contained hunger. ‘C’m’ere.’

Evie inched closer because she wanted to. Opened her lips
beneath his, because she wanted that too. The taste of him, not knowing what
type of kiss she’d get from him, and she wondered if he mixed his kisses up
deliberately—needy and greedy one time and slow and savouring the next. Whether
he ever had a plan...

Evie
never
had a plan once he laid
siege to her, but that would have to change.

Just as soon as this gentle whisper of a kiss finished.

‘You talk a good game, Evie,’ he murmured, and eased away
slowly. ‘I’m tempted to give you that week.’

‘This coming week is the one on offer,’ she said with a gentle
smile as she sat back and browsed the blackboard menu. ‘Let me know what you
decide. I think I’ll have the salmon, spinach leaves and pear salad. You?’

‘Rib eye.’

‘They do a nice one here.’ Small talk to settle her nerves. And
then the waiter came for their order and a side of bread arrived shortly after
that and Evie nibbled on it and her stomach settled further. The civic centre
bid had been submitted, she told him. Max was doing the follow-up courting.
Three bread-and-butter projects were out of the ground and well under way. Plans
for a luxury harbour-side residence were on the drawing board. Business as
usual. Enjoyable as always, that mix of creativity and calculation. There was an
eco house up in the Blue Mountains that she wanted to see. Canton tower in
Guangzhou, China. Hell, why not a world tour of giant Ferris wheels and fabulous
hotels?

‘That what you want to do this coming week?’ he asked quietly.
‘Because we could.’

‘Maybe
you
could,’ she said after a
moment’s startled silence. ‘The rest of us get to save for years, finesse the
dream and carry the sweet scent of achievement around with us when finally such
a trip comes to pass. But if it’s filling this coming week that you’re
interested in, I still have to work seven till three, Monday to Friday.
Wednesday afternoon I might be able to clear. How do you feel about roller
coasters and fairy floss?’

‘That’s your idea of a dream date?’

‘You don’t like roller coasters and fairy floss?’

Logan shrugged. ‘It’s been a while.’

For her too. Maybe it wasn’t such a good combination. ‘Does Max
know you’re having dinner with me?’

‘Not unless you told him.’

‘I didn’t.’ Which led to the next question that needed asking.
‘This week you’re currently considering sharing with me—do you care if people
know about it?’

‘Do you?’

‘No. But then, I’m not the businessman wheeler and dealer with
control issues.’

‘I wouldn’t call them issues, exactly.’

Maybe her multimillionaire wasn’t so self aware after all.
‘Would you want to stay at my apartment?’

‘I’m staying in a serviced apartment at the Quay,’ he replied.
‘You could come there.’

‘Yes, but it’s not your home, is it? Last time we did this I
was living in a student dorm and you were living out of a hotel penthouse. We
spent most of our time in that penthouse naked. Beyond our sexual compatibility
I had no real sense of you as a person. And you had none of me. I wonder if that
was a mistake.’

‘Do you really want me in your home?’ he asked.

‘Yes. My bed. My kitchen in the mornings. My life. For a
week.’

‘What if we’re not compatible?’

‘Then there’s nothing to worry about.’ Evie sat back and
regarded him solemnly. ‘The question you
should
be
worrying about is what if we are?’

* * *

Logan
ended up at her place for coffee. No
word from him yet on what he would do this coming week. No more words from Evie
either, regarding their relationship. Instead she invited him in and stood back
and watched him as he entered her apartment. Nothing special by his standards,
but more than adequate by hers. She wondered if Logan would recognise his
brother’s touch when it came to the design, but if he did he didn’t say
anything. Max had made his early reputation by converting row upon row of
inner-city warehouses into spacious three-storey apartments and this was one of
them. It was how they’d met. She’d asked Max for some structural changes and
he’d heard her out grudgingly. About halfway into the collaboration Max’s
reluctance had turned to enthusiasm.

‘There’s three floors,’ she said. ‘Kitchen, living area and
utilities are on the ground floor, office and spare room on the first floor and
my bedroom and living quarters are up the top.’

‘You have a three-storey fire pole,’ he said.

‘Did I mention I like rides?’

Logan just looked at her.

‘I have stairs too.’ Gorgeous, floating stairs she’d designed
herself—one of the modifications she’d asked of Max. She’d started out with
grand plans for a minimalist lifestyle, but that was half a dozen years ago now
and homely clutter had moved in. Not a showpiece, this apartment, but a home.
Comfortable sofas in mismatched colours. Mismatched cushions too. Lots of colour
to balance the unpainted concrete walls and exposed girders. Logan was looking
up at those rooftop girders now.

‘What are you looking for?’ she asked.

‘Trapeze.’

‘Huh.’ She’d never considered a trapeze before, though she had
considered bungee apparatus. ‘You think I’d need a net?’

‘That or a last will and testament. You know, I never
once
figured you for a thrill seeker.’

‘Really? You don’t think me sliding so willingly up and down
the pleasure-pain endorphins might have clued you in?’

Logan shrugged. ‘Not sure I was thinking at all when I was with
you before, Evangeline.’

‘And now?’

‘Well, I can still remember my name,’ he said. ‘That’s got to
be a good sign. Have you given any thought to what might happen
after
our week is up?’

‘Logan, I’m not sure we’re even going to get through
today
. There’s still three hours of it left, and
forgive me for saying so but you don’t seem to want to be here.’ Evie was
nervous. Logan looked nervous. Hardly an ideal combination.

‘It’s just...this is your home.’

‘Yes.’ She eyed Logan speculatively. ‘Logan, have you ever
been
in a woman’s home before? Apart from your
mother’s?’

‘I have aunts as well,’ he murmured.

‘You know what I mean.’ She meant had he ever been to the home
of a woman he’d bedded, or intended to bed.

‘No.’

‘Nervous?’ She turned to a high kitchen shelf and pulled down a
bottle of half-empty Scotch. Good Scotch. Glasses came next and then she
unscrewed the lid and poured generously.

‘You really think that’s the solution?’

‘I’m willing to give it a whirl,’ she murmured before lifting a
glass and tilting it towards him and then downing it in one hasty swallow. ‘That
one was for courage, and here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to go over
to the lounge, turn on the television and channel surf until you find something
you want to watch. I’m going to put some nibbles on a plate and bring them over
and sit down beside you and relax. There’s a slim chance you might relax
too.’

‘Don’t count on it.’

‘I’m not,’ she said dryly. ‘What do you think the courage was
for?’

Logan shot her a smile and picked up her glass and his and the
Scotch bottle too before sauntering over to the lounge.

She joined him a short time later, dimming the lights on the
way. Easier to ignore all the bits and pieces she’d filled her life with after
that. Not so easy to ignore the effects of Logan’s nearness, the subtle scent of
sandalwood on his skin. The strong, sensual shape of his lips or the ripe red
colour of them. He was so very kissable.

And clearly he felt completely out of place.

Two minutes she lasted. Two minutes before her hands were
roaming his chest and Logan’s hands were in her hair as he laid silent, lazy
siege to her mouth. Evie knew she was coming apart under Logan’s touch but there
was nothing she could do to prevent it. Did he
know
how closely attuned to each other they were in their lovemaking? How rare that
was? Rare for her, at any rate. Maybe for Logan it was perfectly normal. Maybe
he made every woman he bedded feel as if she were the only thing that mattered
to him in this world.

Maybe that was just his way.

Vocal—that was new. The husky oaths that fell from his lips
like endearments. The groans that sounded like prayer.

On her back now, because that was where he wanted her, with her
legs drawn up on either side of him and his mouth not leaving hers. Sinuous, his
movements as he rubbed up against her. Sensuality his weapon of choice.

And he used it with devastating effect.

* * *

Kissing
was easy, thought Logan. Kissing was a
hell of a lot easier than talking or trying to fit into a life that was not
his.

His shirt came off, and Evie’s would have too, but she slid out
from beneath him and pushed him back against the sofa with a palm to his chest
as she straddled his hips.

‘My house,’ she murmured. ‘My rules.’

She pushed his arms back until they rested outstretched along
the back of the sofa and set her lips to his triceps and he shuddered beneath
her touch and closed his eyes and let her play. Pure pleasure, no pain, and he
craved this just as much as he’d ever craved the other. Such a slow and easy
slide into sensation. The wet lick of tongue against sensitive skin. The brush
of soft hair over hardened nipples. The slow creep of moisture and heat and the
tightening of his balls when finally she freed him from his clothes and loosened
her own and he slid slowly into her.

Not always rough and fighting for control. Sometimes—when the
mood was upon him—he could be exquisitely, unthinkingly...

Gentle.

* * *

Evie
woke the next morning in her bed. She’d
lured Logan there eventually and the slight shift of her head confirmed that he
hadn’t yet left. He lay sleeping instead, and in the quiet half-light of dawn
Evie studied the man she’d tangled with so exquisitely last night. More
beautiful asleep than awake—and always had been. Less guarded when he was asleep
and far more innocent-looking. Slept on his tummy with his hands beneath the
pillow and his head and one knee crooked towards her. As if he’d watched her
slide into slumber before surrendering to it himself.

Fanciful notion, and she knew it. The man had been sated
towards the end. He would have closed his eyes and been asleep within moments,
just as she had. No time for analysis of the lovemaking that had taken place.
The frightening, soul-stealing beauty of it.

That was what morning-afters were for.

Slowly, so as not to wake him, Evie slid silently from the bed,
slipped a robe from its hanger and headed for the stairs, no need to put it on
now. She’d shower downstairs where the noise would not wake him. No need to wake
him for, once she did that, Logan might go.

She had a feeling he’d want to go.

‘I’d kill for coffee,’ he said as her toes touched the first
step.

Evie turned and found herself in receipt of a sleepy gaze that
swept her from head to toe. Not the full-wattage smile; he wasn’t even trying
and
still
he warmed her through.