Grey eyes widened, eyes that were slightly red from crying. 'But how can
you be?' Darcy swallowed hard.
He looked serious. 'Believe me, Darcy, I—' He broke off as the intercom
buzzed beside the lift.
After the way the evening had been cut short at the restaurant earlier, his
visitor was likely to be Fergus—and his cousin was the last person he
wanted to see at the moment. Well...probably not the last person, he
conceded; Margaret Fraser had to take that honour!
'Shouldn't you answer that?' Darcy prompted as the buzzer sounded a
second time, self-consciously wiping away all trace of her recent tears.
'I should,' he acknowledged reluctantly—because it was the last thing he
wanted to do.
He needed time, and space, to talk to Darcy, to explain. But with Fergus
waiting downstairs, now certainly wasn't that time. Except Fergus, if
allowed up here while Darcy was still here, was sure to say something he
shouldn't...!
'Darcy, will you have lunch with me tomorrow?' he found himself asking
quickly.
She gave him a considering look. 'What for?'
His brows rose impatiently. 'Because I want to have lunch with you!'
'Why?'
'Good grief, woman, just say yes or no!' he barked, annoyed at her delay.
'If you're only inviting me because you feel sorry for me—' she began
slowly.
'I don't feel sorry for you,' he bit out tersely. At least...not yet. If Margaret
Fraser ever did become her stepmother, then he might have reason to
change his mind! 'I just need to talk to you, okay?' he stated firmly, knowing
Fergus would be becoming fed up as he waited downstairs, having no doubt
that Parker would already have told his cousin that he was at home!
She gave a half-smile. 'Okay.'
'Good,' he said with relief. 'Now I'm going to take you downstairs, put you
into a taxi, and I would advise you to go to bed when you get home and have
a good night's sleep. As your mother told you, this won't look so black
tomorrow.' Especially as Logan intended finding out exactly what was
going on and doing something about this situation himself!
Darcy accompanied him into the lift. 'It certainly couldn't look any worse,'
she surmised.
Oh, it could, as Logan knew only too well, but not if it was handled
correctly. And he intended to see that it was!
Fergus levelled a look of cold criticism at Logan, for keeping him waiting,
as Logan stepped out of the lift with Darcy at his side.
'I'll be back in a moment,' Logan told him as Fergus would have spoken,
vaguely noting that Fergus did have the parcel from the restaurant with him.
He could sort that out with Darcy tomorrow. 'I'm just going to put Darcy
into a taxi.' He strode out of the building, Darcy held firmly at his side,
before his cousin had a chance to make any sort of reply.
Darcy turned to him before getting into the back of the taxi. 'You really have
been very kind,' she said almost shyly.
It wasn't a characteristic too many people would apply to him, Logan
thought wryly, but if that was how Darcy saw him, he wasn't about to argue
with her!
'Lunch tomorrow,' he reminded her economically. 'Twelve-thirty. At
Romaine's. It's—'
'I know where it is,' she assured him, reaching out to touch his arm. 'And
thank you once again.'
Logan stood and watched the taxi until it disappeared around the corner at
the end of the road, his thoughtful expression turning to one of hard
determination as he turned to walk back into his apartment building.
'Nice-looking girl,' Fergus remarked as he followed the glowering Logan
into the lift.
Logan gave him a cold look. 'She's Daniel Simon's daughter,' he rasped. 'But
then you already knew that, didn't you?' he added accusingly as the two men
stepped into his apartment, Logan striding straight over to the drinks tray to
replenish his glass, taking a grateful sip before pouring another glassful for
Fergus.
'Thanks.' Fergus took the glass. 'Yes,' he sighed, bending his long length
into one of the armchairs. 'I already knew that. This, apparently, is yours.'
He held up the parcel.
'Thanks.' Logan took it and put it on the side without further comment.
Fergus didn't have to know everything!
His cousin sipped the whisky. 'I know we were practically brought up on
this stuff, but I'm not sure we should be drinking it at the moment; neither of
us has eaten much this evening!'
'Come on.' Logan came to a decision. 'I'll cook us both an omelette—and
then you can bring me up to date with exactly what is going on!'
It only took a few minutes to prepare the omelettes and a salad to go with
them, the two men shortly seated at the breakfast bar; Logan had lived on
his own a long time now, was more than capable of feeding himself. And
anyone else who happened to be here. On this occasion, it happened to be
Fergus.