“You thought I’d gone up the mountain?” He looked stunned. “I might be a bit reckless, but I’m not an idiot.”
“But... you’re drenched.”
“I’m only wet from the walk back. I’m fine.”
Fine. He was fine? He wasn’t going to be fine for much longer. “Walk b-back from where?”
He hesitated.
“Hunter and Connor... they checked the hotel,” Min said. “You didn’t stay there.”
If he hadn’t been in any of the hotel rooms, and not up in the snow, then where had he been? Who had he been with?
“Were you with that woman?” she asked. “That... Cynthia?”
He looked more amazed than when she’d suggested he’d gone up the mountain. But astonishment morphed into outrage in a heartbeat. “No.”
“Some other woman?”
“No.”
“Then where the fuck were you?” she demanded, those tears stinging her eyes again. “You didn’t call, you didn’t answer my calls... I can tell you, you’re in more d-danger now than you would have been if you were out in that snow.”
“I thought you didn’t care.”
Was he actually smiling? Seriously? She pushed past him, had to get out. Away. He was an absolute jerk.
He grabbed her, pulled her close. Wet, dirty tux and all.
She stiffened. So pissed.
Only then she felt his strength, his heat. The vitality as his heart slammed against his ribs, the vibrations reverberating within her.
His heart was racing. And his arms were suddenly so tight around her.
“I’m sorry. Sorry. That was... I’m sorry.” He held her in place. “I went for a run.”
She closed her eyes and rested her forehead on his chest. “You what?”
“Went for a run. I know. Stupid.” He grunted. “But I was hot and angry and I needed to clear my head. I didn’t mean to stay out so long. Knew the storm was coming, but once I got going I lost track of time.”
“Where did you go?”
“Along the road. Just was gonna go there and back. But I got there and the sky fell in...”
“Where’s there?”
He was silent a long moment. “There’s a chalet we own about ten miles away. Isolated, off the main road. It’s very private.”
“You ran ten miles in your dress shoes? In the snow?”
“There’s a fireplace. I broke in and stayed warm. Rode out the storm.”
“What about your phone?”
“Out of range. The chalet is up the hill. No reception.”
Up the hill, in the snow, in the dark, in a freaking tux. He’d really wanted to get away, hadn’t he?
“That woman... Cynthia.” His heart picked up speed again. “She’s part of what bothered you last night?”
“I heard you talking,” Min whispered. “It seemed p-personal.”
“Why didn’t you ask me about it?”
She hadn’t wanted to hear it. And it wasn’t really her business. She had no real claim.
“She’s not my ex,” Logan said. “She’s Rex’s ex. One of my father’s many mistresses.”
“Oh.” Min bit down on her lip. No wonder Elaine had been watching her so closely. Logan’s mom knew. Min lifted her head and pushed on his chest. He loosened his arms enough so she could look up and see his face. “I’m sorry.”
Logan met her gaze, the stormy blaze still in his eyes. “You know that accident Connor had when we were kids?”
She nodded “He told me that you saved him. That you know how to survive in this environment.”
“He tell you why we were alone?”
She shook her head.
“Our father was supposed to be coaching us. But he was too busy fucking his assistant in that small chalet.”
She made a small sound in her throat. His arms loosened, like he was about to step back.
“It’s what he does,” he said huskily. “It’s where he always went. He’s had countless affairs. So many.”
“Your m-m-mother knows?”
“Of course. She turns a blind eye. Everyone pretends everything is perfect.”
And it so wasn’t. It was so broken. And Logan had been left alone. Min’s heart ached. “When did you find out?”
“That day. I needed him and he wasn’t there. The chalet was the first building I got to and I found him with her. Connor was bleeding out on that mountain and it was my fault and dad was getting off... I walked in on him.”
Min bit her lip to stop from interrupting him. Because she could feel him trembling against her, his heart still thudding. Still hurting.
“He said nothing.” Logan lifted tortured eyes to hers. “He never talked about it. Never admitted it. Never apologized. Never asked me to say nothing—I guess he knew I’d stay silent. He just yelled at me for taking Connor that far off the trails.”
Min twisted her fingers into his wet shirt, holding on to him. “Connor’s accident wasn’t your f-fault.”
But Logan looked sombre, marked with an old, deep scar. “I dared him. I pushed him. He was younger and not as strong and I should have known better.”
“Your father should have known better.” Not to leave two competitive kids on the mountain alone. Not to stray from his wife. Not to destroy his son’s innocence and faith that way.
“I always said I wasn’t going to be like him...” Logan muttered.
Min hurt, silenced. Because he had been, right? He’d told her he cheated.
His arms tightened fractionally and Logan looked straight into her eyes. His were that pale ice blue. Honest, resigned.
“I had an affair with my team-mate’s girlfriend,” he said. “She cheated on him with me. I let that happen, no, I made it happen. Wanted it to.”
“W-w-why?” Min pressed down on her lips. Why had he wanted to do that? To destroy someone else’s happiness? Because she knew how much that hurt—to be the one betrayed.
“At the time, I thought I liked her,” he said huskily. “But looking back, I think it was the challenge. He was my greatest threat on the slopes and I...”
“...wanted to win.” She got that about him.
His head lowered. “I guess I was trying to prove that I could. At least that way. Doesn’t make me a nice person, huh?”
It made him a needy person. Needing to win no matter the cost. Needing to win something—anything. Needing to be wanted. Needing to be loved.
He seemed to have it all—to be utterly spoilt. But maybe he’d missed out on the fundamentals. The basic security of loving parents and that acceptance, the knowledge they loved you no matter what. Because he hadn’t been loved, unless he won.
It didn’t make his actions excusable, but perhaps understandable.
“What happened?” Min asked.
“Eventually she told him. It blew up.” He looked to the f
loor as he answered. “Blew up the whole damn team. In the end he forgave her. They’re married now and have a couple of kids.”
She’d gone back to the other guy?
“She b-broke your heart?” Min asked quietly.
“No,” he shook his head, his gaze snapping back to hers. “She made the right choice.”
Had she?
“I never could have made her happy for long,” he said simply. “It never would have lasted.”
So Logan had been the other guy. He hadn’t been playing off two women at once. It shouldn’t make any difference, it shouldn’t make Min feel any better about it. Because he’d lied to a colleague. Betrayed a team-mate. A team-mate who was also a competitor. It must have been such a mess.
“Did you stay skiing as a t-team?”
“The week after they got back together, I crashed out in that race.”
The one when he’d hurt his back and made the decision to end his competition career. Now she understood. In trying to win what wasn’t his, Logan had lost it all.
“Connor is so different. He’s this disciplined man,” Logan said. “You’ve seen him. So rigid and tough—with him there’s never doing anything wrong. His self-control is legendary.”
Whereas Logan’s? Not so long ago she’d said he didn’t have any. But he did. He had more self-control than any man she’d met. Time and time again he’d shown her his ability to deny himself.
“I don’t want to be like Rex,” he said, his words rushing like he couldn’t say it all fast enough. “I don’t want to be that selfish. I don’t want to use people the way he does. I don’t want to use you... I’m so sorry I made you come here with me. I’m sorry I put you in a position where you felt so uncomfortable. I fucked up. I thought it’d be fun and I didn’t think there’d be these consequences like your mom...” He broke off, breathing jerkily. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay.”
“Logan.”
“And I’m sorry I was out all night and made you worry. All of you,” he grimaced. “It was the last thing you needed.”
She lifted her hand to cup his jaw. His skin felt hot. He needed to stop beating himself up. He was so beautiful, so tortured. So sorry.
And so was she. She’d let her own insecurities make her doubt him on something as small as a half-heard conversation. And there he was, tormented by his own family’s mess. By his own past. As was she.