Adjusting his tightening pants, he approached, winding his way through the throng of people who should definitely know better than to buy into the bullshit of magic.
He peered through the side slit of the canopy. At least he'd managed to find the mayor, who was currently sitting across from Sophie while she thoroughly examined his hands.
No doubt checking his fingers for diamonds and his wrist for a Rolex.
Logan moved his way up front, just in time for Sophie to stand and step outside the curtains with the mayor. She looked up at him, offering a half smile.
A jolt hit him hard and he connected with her, exactly the same way it had been that night in the alley and that day in her shop. He tried to tear his gaze away, but found himself unable to.
His thoughts drifted to satin sheets, naked bodies writhing together, and a full, soft mouth closing over his rock-hard shaft.
She blinked and her eyes widened. When she flicked her tongue over her upper lip and swallowed, he knew then that she was aware of what he was thinking.
"Logan! How are you?"
He shook off the connection and smiled at the mayor, engaging the excited man in conversation.
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"Sophie is a delight! What a coup to have her here tonight. She's brilliant, Logan.
And genuine, too."
The mayor patted him on the back and moved away, leaving him standing across from Sophie.
"Would you like me to tell your fortune?" she asked, her gravelly voice making him itch to take her mouth in ways he had no business thinking of right now.
Or ever.
"I think you've already told me all I need to know."
She shook her head, her dark hair falling over her shoulder, one slender strand dipping into the generous cleavage between her luscious breasts.
He wanted to reach for that strand and caress the plump flesh that contained it.
"I haven't even begun to tell you what you need to know."
"Oh, and what does Logan need to know?"
Logan whipped around at the sound of his mother's voice.
"Hello, Mother," he said, kissing her on the cheek.
She smiled at Logan. "Bon soir, mon fils." Turning to Sophie, she said, "This must be the Sophie Breaux my daughters have been telling me about."
Sophie rose and hurried over to his mother, enthusiastically shaking her hand. "Bon soir, Madame Storm. Comment allez vous?"
"Je suis tres bien, Sophie, merci. S'il vous plait, appelez-moi Angelina."
"Merci, Angelina," Sophie replied.
His mother glanced over at him. "Leave us for a few moments, Logan." She practically pushed him out of the draped room, then shut the curtains.
What the hell was that all about? He didn't believe for one second that his mother didn't know who Sophie was. Maybe she'd finally seen through Sophie's charade and was going to lecture her privately. Or throw her out of the place completely.
He should be so lucky.
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Too curious to walk away, he lingered, talking to the people in line. Important people. Rich people. People prominent in their community.
All of them lining up to hear their fortunes told by a two-bit phony.
He shook his head, unable to fathom the attraction to magical bullshit.
After about five minutes, his mother pulled the curtain aside and motioned the next person in line to go in, then linked her arm within Logan's and walked with him through the crowds.
"I need a drink," she whispered.
He turned his head and regarded her. Angelina Storm was a beautiful woman. No matter how old she got, Logan would forever see her as youthful, exuberant and vibrating with joie de vivre.
But right now her normally dark complexion had gone pale.
"What's wrong?"
She feigned a smile he knew wasn't sincere. "Nothing's wrong. I'm thirsty."
"Is it something Sophie said?" He stopped and glanced toward the tent. "I can ask her to leave if she upset you."
His mother patted his arm. "She did no such thing. Now quit worrying and go get me that drink."
Deciding not to press her right now, Logan led her to the bar and handed her a glass of champagne. She downed it in a few gulps while he stood by, shocked speechless and desperately wanting to know what happened when his mother had spoken to Sophie.
When she finished, she set the glass down on the bar, kissed him and said, "Bring Sophie to the house for dinner on Sunday."
"Huh?"
"Oh look. There's Maria Dupree'. I really need to speak with her. Five o'clock Sunday, Logan. Don't be late. Ta-ta."
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Ta-ta? That was it? Bring Sophie to dinner, and she leaves?
Was he fucking dreaming the past week of his life? What the hell was the matter with everyone? Was he the only one to see through Sophie to the fraud she was?
"Vous etes ainsi baise, mon frere." Aidan stepped around him to the bar, grabbed two glasses of champagne and winked. "See you and Sophie at dinner Sunday."
Yeah, he was screwed all right. Aidan's laughter echoed in Logan's ears long after his brother had sauntered away.
*
Logan didn't look happy.
Did the man walk around with a perpetual frown? Sophie watched his determined approach with a mix of trepidation and intense, feminine interest. She even sighed appreciatively.
How could she not? He was beautiful, walking toward her with a stealth-like grace that caused her heart to tumble and her pulse to skitter.
She looked around, expecting to find at least the clean-up crew taking down the tables. There was no one left in the ballroom but her and a man who didn't look one bit happy.
"Stay away from my family," he said as soon as he stopped in front of her table.
She blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but you're not going to play it with my family, or with my business associates."
"I was invited here tonight by Lissa."
"I don't care. I don't want you around my family."
"You don't want me around you, is what you really mean." She turned to finish packing the boxes containing the tools of her trade. "Really, Logan, you might as well 34
Winter Ice
get used to the fact that I'm in your life now. As I mentioned before, we're destined to be together, and there really isn't anything you can do about that."
Too afraid to look up and see his angry reaction, she kept her head focused on the box, waiting for him to fire back a retort.
But he didn't. For awhile, she wondered if he'd turned heel and left the ballroom. If it wasn't for the fact she was so in tune to him, she'd think he'd done that very thing.
But he hadn't. She heard his breathing, smelled his unique scent, felt the vibrations of mixed emotions emanating from him.
"Get out of my life, Sophie, and stay out."
With a sigh, she folded the flaps of the box closed and turned to him. "I can't. You need me."
He jerked the table away so quickly she barely saw it. In an instant he had pulled her forcefully against him, his fingers biting into her upper arms.
"Get this straight, Sophie. I don't need you. I didn't before I met you, and I don't now. I will never need you or the brand of magic--and I use the term loosely--that you bring. You're nothing but a fake."
His anger should have frightened her. His insults should have angered her. His hands grasping her upper arms should have, too. Instead, they had the opposite effect, because she knew he'd never hurt her. Her body heated, her skin flushing, her panties moistening with a quick flash of desire for the man who was trying to freeze her out of his life.
"I understand this is difficult for you, Logan. After all, you don't really know me that well, and yet I know you better than you know yourself."
"You don't know a goddamn thing about me."
She took in his breath as it wafted across her face, delighting in the smell of cinnamon and fine brandy.
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"Why are you fighting what's between us? Don't you feel it?" She reached up and covered his hands with hers, knowing that as soon as she did the jolt would hit them both.
He felt it, too. She knew he did. She could tell by the way his eyes quickly widened, then narrowed and darkened. "Stop that."
"I didn't do anything."
"Yes, you did." He dropped his hands from her arms, but she refused to let him walk away. She held tight to them, feeling the energy increase.
"I'm much stronger than you, petite fille. Don't fuck with me."
"Perhaps it's you who wants to fuck with me, but you're afraid to lose some of that careful control you possess."
His eyes narrowed, his voice deepening. "You couldn't handle me if I really let go."
She sucked in her lower lip to keep from blurting out that she wanted him.
Desperately wanted him, in a way even she didn't understand.