He’d have to take it slow. “What I want is something special,” he said thinking aloud. “More than a plain old beer.” He glanced down at her hands, noticing the blunt nails and clear polish for the first time. No fancy frills, colors, or artifice to this woman, he thought, and was more than pleased. He leaned over the edge of the bar. “I want you to create magic,” he said in a deep voice he barely recognized.
“You’re too old to believe in magic, buster.”
If the magic had left her life, he wanted to be the one to restore her faith. Bizarre how quickly she’d gotten to him, but after years of bland women and uninteresting relationships, Logan recognized a gem when he saw one.
“I’m old enough to know what I want, but not too old for you.”
“Want to bet?”
“I’m a gambling man.” He reached out and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. The tiny silver pendants hanging from her earlobe were intriguing. A delicate contrast to her sharp tongue and pr
ickly exterior. He lowered his hand, letting his fingers trail down her soft cheek.
She sucked in a startled breath, then coughed into her hand. “Don’t read too much into that. I swallowed wrong.”
He laughed. “You’re hell on a man’s ego.” Not that he believed her professed disinterest. The rapid flutter of a pulse beating in her neck and the flush of pink that stained her neck and cheeks betrayed her.
“All in a day’s work.” She smiled.
The flash of white teeth revealed two dimples on either side of her luscious lips. He vowed to taste that smile before the night was out.
“Speak or go away,” Catherine said. “What do you want, Mr. Montgomery?”
Time was running out. He glanced into her eyes before leaning close and whispering in her ear.
* * *
To make your dreams come true.
A thrill spun its way through her veins. At least fifty guests and party favors later and she still couldn’t suppress the tremor of excitement Logan’s words brought. Thanks to his husky tone, she knew what he desired, but the sincerity in his eyes made her want to believe he meant more than a cheap fling. Yet after those heart-stealing words, he’d stood, reminded her she had other guests waiting, and left, walking through the double doors and into the Montgomery mansion. He’d never looked back.
Her instincts had been right. He’d seen her as an interesting diversion. When she hadn’t proved easy, he couldn’t be bothered with the chase. She shrugged. No big deal. Hadn’t she already backed off herself?
So why was the disappointment so lingering?
She had no doubt Logan Montgomery was a man capable of fulfilling every fantasy she’d imagined—and some she probably hadn’t. Just the thought of him made her body hum with a sexual awareness she couldn’t mistake. Oh, he’d be good and she’d enjoy herself, but this was a man capable of getting inside her soul.
They weren’t meant to happen. Not without someone getting hurt. She being the someone who came to mind. One reckless night wasn’t worth a sacrifice in self-worth.
And he obviously wasn’t interested in pursuing more.
Over the next hour, the clouds darkened, and the guests began a slow trickling out of the estate. The budget on this party had enabled her to splurge on everything—including cleanup—and the crew was waiting to take over. The woman they’d hired as manager would supervise the next shift. By this evening, no remnants of the party would remain. Catherine had no reason to stay.
She edged past the few remaining guests and slipped into the wide entryway that led to the coatroom in the foyer. Yellow and white satin wrapped around the circular staircase in the corner and draped like border paper high on the walls. More than once, she cringed as her sneakered feet squeaked against the freshly waxed marble floor. She entered the closet that was larger than the room she’d shared with her sister growing up and hit the light switch on the wall.
Despite the ominous clouds, the day had started off with potential and the closet was empty of jackets and coats. Catherine’s rain slicker, brought more out of foresight than need, stood out in the empty room.
“Gran!”
Catherine turned at the sound of the deep, compelling voice in time to see Logan glance inside the walk-in closet. “Gran!” he called once more. “Is that you?”
“Not unless this party has aged me more than I thought,” Catherine said from the back recesses of the room.
He continued his path straight toward her. “Not a chance.” His gaze settled on her face, intense and focused. “Beauty and a smart mouth—you’re a lethal combination.”
She chose to detour around that remark. “I thought you already left.” She curled her hand around the soft plastic of her coat as if a solid grip would keep her safe from her rioting hormones and a sexy man.
“Keeping tabs on me?” he asked with a cocky grin.