Can't Buy Me Love (Sinclair Sisters 3)

But if he thought she’d crumble that easily, then he didn’t know her at all. Agnes could resist this temptation. She had a backbone of steel. Logan had no idea what he was up against.

Agnes pulled the tray toward herself, whisked off the napkin, and gaped. It was the exact meal they’d had at the spa. There was no way the hotel kitchen had made this. No, this meal had been ferried in from the only other restaurant in town. As she sat staring down at it, there was a flash, and she looked up to find Bernadette aiming her phone at her.

“What are you doing?” Agnes demanded.

“Nothing,” she said. “I was just wondering if you’re going to the movies at the community center tonight.”

“No! And close the damn door.”

As her office door shut quietly, Agnes massaged the ache in her temples and groaned. Her phone lay on the desk in front of her, tempting her to just call Logan and tell him she was giving in. But, no, she could resist his onslaught. She was made of iron.

After switching off her phone, she dug into the meal, all the while trying not to breathe in Logan’s scent.

It was almost nine before Agnes finished up in her office. Dragging her tired body up the stairs to her room, she longed for a hot bath, some chocolate, and at least fourteen hours sleep.

Instead, her room had only a shower. And she had to be back at her desk by seven in the morning. At least she still had a bar of chocolate in her fridge. Chocolate helped everything. She opened her door, stepped into her room, and stopped.

Folded on the end of her bed was a massive, plush wine-colored blanket, an electrical cord wound in a circle on top. Agnes had seen those blankets in Invertary’s gift shop and had longed for one, but it’d been just out of her price range—until her wages came in.

Now here it was.

She ran her fingers over the sensual material, already eager to plug in the blanket, switch it on and wrap herself in its warmth.

A piece of folded paper sat beside it on the bed. Agnes picked up the note and read it.

I didn’t want you to be cold.

Agnes sat on the edge of her bed, pulled out her phone and dialed Logan.

She’d been wrong. There was no fighting this. This kind of temptation was too much to resist. All she could hope for now was that he was so terrible in bed it put her off him for life.

The call went straight to voicemail, so she left a message. Just three small words before she hung up.

“I want you.”

Chapter 13

Logan dried his hands, shut the dishwasher and reached for his phone. He’d been elbow deep in water so had let the caller leave a message. With a swipe of his screen, he accessed his voicemail and promptly lost the ability to breathe, because the message was from Agnes. And all she’d said was, ‘I want you.’

Damn.

He ran a hand down his face as his stomach filled with butterflies and his heart raced. All at once, he was a teenage boy again, nervous before his first date. Hanging his head, he muttered some curses under his breath. That woman was twisting him inside out.

“Who was on the phone?” Drew said as he sauntered into the kitchen.

Fighting to get his reaction under control, Logan turned to face his son. “I have to go out. I’m needed at the hotel, and I could be gone all night. Go next door and get your gran for me, will you?”

“You do know I’m old enough to look after Darcy, right?” Drew said, but he was already heading for the door.

“Not overnight you aren’t.” He didn’t care how many bolts they had on the door, or how sensible his kids could be, they weren’t spending the night alone.

He found his daughter lying upside down on the sofa, reading a book. He crouched beside her. “I’m going out. Gran’s coming over, and she’ll put you to bed, okay?”

There were no arguments about her being too old for anyone to put to bed. She just said, “’kay. Night, Dad.” And carried on reading.

With a smile, Logan kissed her forehead before getting ready to go out.

Her knitting under her arm, his mother appeared as he pulled on his jacket. “Work?” she asked as he kissed her on the cheek.