“You wouldn’t be suggesting I set you up?” Disbelief and humor lit his gaze. “I’m interested, not desperate. I can get my woman without Gran’s help.”
“Your woman?” She swallowed a laugh. “That has a Neanderthal sound to it.”
He shrugged. “I kind of liked it.”
“You would. So, how about breaking down the door, Tarzan?”
“If I give it a shot, will you have that drink with me?”
“You wouldn’t stoop to using your grandmother but bribery is okay?”
“Is that a yes?”
She believed he had nothing to do with their current predicament. The eccentric older woman would definitely pull a stunt li
ke this. The only question was why. Emma certainly couldn’t think Catherine was an acceptable choice for her grandson nor could she believe Logan incapable of getting his own dates.
Speaking of dates, she had a decision to make. The closet, which had seemed so large when she’d first entered, was shrinking by the minute. She couldn’t breathe without inhaling the scent of spice and man, an erotic combination that stole her breath and threatened to take her sanity next. One drink in a public place was much safer than hanging out alone with him now.
She glanced at his handsome face and forced a casual shrug. “One drink,” she agreed.
She hoped she didn’t live to regret those two little words.
Chapter Three
Relief at her acceptance warred with the steady beat of desire pounding inside him. “Should I be flattered that you accepted?” Logan asked. “Or insulted you want out of here so badly?”
“Neither. I accepted because I’m thirsty. Now, give it your best shot.”
He wouldn’t have an inflated ego as long as Catherine was around. Logan was honest enough to admit he wanted her by his side for awhile. Long enough to get to know the cautious woman with the sassy mouth.
He needed time, but time freely given, not under duress. He eyed the door and slugged it as hard as he could with his shoulder. His bad shoulder. Hell, after years of college baseball, both shoulders were bad, and this one rebelled against his attempted escape. It rolled in the socket and he groaned in pain.
Catherine was by his side in an instant. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault,” he muttered through gritted teeth. He counted to ten and waited for the pain to subside. Since it often popped out in his sleep, Logan was used to the routine. Slowly, the shoulder numbed as the pain eased.
Soft hands reached for his collar. Logan let her slip the jacket off his shoulders. If she wanted to play nurse, he’d let her. He wasn’t proud that he was taking advantage of her concern, but he doubted he’d have a better chance to catch her with her guard down.
She lowered herself to the floor, her back propped against the wall. “Sit.”
Logan lowered himself beside her.
She turned and began working the sore muscles in his arm with her fingertips. The pressure felt so good he groaned in relief. “That feels great. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Now, tell me how we ended up like this. What made you think Emma was in here?” Catherine asked.
He leaned his head backward and focused on the rhythmic motion of her fingers pressing through his shirt and into his skin. “The cocktail server who said, ‘Your grandmother is waiting for you in the coat closet.’ Nothing unusual or sinister about that…” Her fingers pushed deep and eased off, caressed and massaged the sore muscle. “Unless you know my grandmother. Mmm. A little deeper.”
She complied. Those fingers worked magic and Logan found himself seduced… by her scent, her touch, by her.
“Better?” she asked.
“Much.” As close to perfect as he could get without lying naked beside her.
“Someone should come looking for us any minute,” she said.
“If you believe that, you don’t know my grandmother.”