Perception.
Why it was so necessary to go to such lengths? What was the reality beneath if his family had to work so hard to maintain appearances?
She looked out the window for a few more minutes before giving in to curiosity again. “So what’s it like?”
“What?”
“Summerhill.”
He swiped the iPad screen, bringing up the next page of the article. “It’s a mountain. There’s snow, a resort, spa facilities…”
It was an exclusive resort that attracted the rich and famous. A place Min was unlikely ever to go to of her own accord. She’d rebelled against the kind of social climbing that her mother was so hell bent on. She didn’t want to try to break into a scene that wasn’t a natural fit for her. But for Logan, this was his home. “Your family lives at the resort?”
“No,” he answered idly, still focused on his iPad. “The compound is alongside.”
“Compound?”
He glanced at her and had the grace to chuckle softly. “That’s what it’s always been called.”
“What’s that like?” What the hell was a ‘compound’? She had visions of security gates and private pools and personal indoor basketball courts.
“I don’t know what it’s like anymore.” He angled his head to look past her to the silvery clouds they were flying above. “I’ve not been there in years.”
“Haven’t you?” She frowned. “What about the ad campaigns?”
He only modelled for the Summerhill brand, his outdoor wear was all part of the same package.
“I flew in and out for those. Didn’t stop at the compound. Many were taken in a studio back in New York.”
“You’re saying they were Photoshopped?” she teased.
“All modeling campaigns are Photoshopped.”
“To get the right ‘look’?”
“Exactly.”
But his real-life look was unbeatable.
“You still ski though, right?” Didn’t he come here in his vacation and zip round off-piste or something?
He didn’t answer.
“Logan?”
“No.” He sat back in his seat. “There’s no point.”
No point? Didn’t he love it? Or had it only ever been about the glory—the winning? As ruthless a competitor as he’d been portrayed, she somehow couldn’t believe that. “You don’t miss it?”
“If you’re going to do something, you do it the best.”
What? She narrowed her gaze on him. “So because you’re no longer a national champ, you don’t do it at all?”
He shrugged.
“You’re that all or nothing?”
“Nothing’s worth doing unless you do it well. Unless you’re the best.”
“The best you can be.” She could agree with that, kind of, in some situations. “You don’t have to be the best in the world.”
He grinned. But there was a bitter edge to it.
“It wasn’t ever just fun?” She angled her head to see right into his eyes. “You didn’t love it?” Wasn’t there some feeling of freedom or something that he felt when going that fast down the mountain?
He shook his head. “It was cold. Why do you think I specialize in merino and warm layers?”
Was he joking? “You don’t miss it at all?”
“I want to win in other areas of my life. I have different ambitions. Modeling and all.” He winked.
She knew he trying to lighten up. Going back to the playful, playboy persona that he did so well. But it was a persona. He had depth, he just chose to keep it hidden. She glanced to his iPad. His different ambitions were business related. His investments. Was it all about making more money? How much did the guy need?
“Did Connor ski too?” she asked.
“When he was younger. He never competed at national level.”
“He didn’t like it?” Had he hated the pressure?
“He loved it. Still does. That’s why his home is on the mountain.” Logan sighed. “He had an accident. Nearly died. His left leg isn’t as strong. He couldn’t get past it to compete at elite level.”
“What happened?”
“Just an accident.” Logan crossed his arm over his chest and rubbed his shoulder. “They’re kinda common on the snow.”
He glanced at the iPad on his lap, couldn’t remember what he’d been reading. But he didn’t want to remember the scene flashing in his head now. That crimson on white. Connor crying. Logan trying to get help.
Logan alone. Leaving Connor even more alone.
“He’s okay though,” he added roughly. “He still heads up there anytime the powder’s fresh.”
After that accident, even when still a kid, Connor had been groomed for the company and hadn’t that turned out to be the best thing. Connor was brilliant at it. Too brilliant. Because he’d discovered his father’s other secrets. The shoddy advice. The business sleaze. But Connor had called him on it. Connor had cleaned it up and privately ousted his father. This public ‘handover’ now was purely a marketing ploy. They’d ensure that none of those questionable dealings would become public.
“Your parents must have freaked when you had your accident,” said Min.
Damn, didn’t she know to leave it alone? His accident was nothing compared to Connor’s. His accident had been the result of a reckless, last effort to win. He hadn’t been wounded that badly—not physically.
“I don’t know.” He snapped the cover over the iPad. “And I don’t care.”
He shouldn’t be saying that to Ms ‘Let’s Put Everything on Social Media’. Yet here he was, spilling the truth he’d never told another soul. “I don’t give a damn about how they felt.”
But his father had sure made his thoughts known. It was the final straw, forcing Logan’s decision to walk away. Finally free to do whatever the hell he wanted.
So he had.
Dreading the weekend, he was too pissed off to hold it in the way he should. “I was never going to meet my father’s goals for me.” He leaned his aching head into the soft cushioning of the seat. Nothing he’d achieved had been good enough for Rex. No matter what races he’d won then or what business deals he’d wrangled since. It wasn’t ever enough. So he’d given up seeking that approval, given up being good.
“I could’ve won it all and it still wouldn’t have been enough,” he said. “I broke my back trying. I failed. Then I quit.”
He’d always been reckless. Crashing out. Disqualifying by taking one risk too many. Desperation to win had always driven him too hard.
His coach had despaired, insisted that if Logan would just rein in a bit, he’d have it in the bag. That there was no need for the flair. But the flair was the only thing Logan had liked. He’d liked the danger of being right on the edge—either taking it out, or burning up.
Because at heart, he hadn’t cared. He hadn’t truly wanted to be there.
His father had labelled him out of control.
But no one was out of control like his own father. He just hid it behind a veneer of respectability and authority. At least Logan was honest.
After Logan’s own accident and secret scandal-laced exit from the ski team, Connor had supported him in creating the adventure clothing brand that had proved to be so popular world-wide. But Logan still didn’t have his father’s endorsement. He never would. And he didn’t want it. Not when the old man was such a cheat himself.
He realized Min was watching him with a worried expression and forced himself to relax. He slid the iPad back into his bag and reached for the wool blanket the airline provided. “Don’t you hate it how cold these planes get?”
He unfolded it, throwing it so it fell over her lap as well as his.
“Why didn’t you say ‘no’ to this weekend?” she asked, ignoring his smile.
She’d seen how much it bothered him.
“Because I’m not letting Connor down. Besides,” he pulled a full-flirt smile out. “I wanted to spend the weekend annoying you.”
He
r chin lifted. “You were doing that j-j-just fine in Manhattan.”
Too bad. He was doing it more and doing it now.
He leaned close and gently bit her lower lip, inwardly cheering when he heard her sharp intake of breath. He licked her lip to soothe the sting. He looked into her eyes— saw the green disappearing as passion lit. Irritation. Lust. Desire.
Yeah, she was the perfect distraction. He wasn’t going to be bothered by his father or any of the mess at all when he had a hot Min to satisfy. And damn if she didn’t take some satisfying.