Chapter 17: Chapter 17

Not Another Valentine StoryWords: 6170

LAUREN

Clearing her throat and standing straighter, she said, “The guests are meant to be in the ballroom,” but the rasp in her voice betrayed her.

Logan shook his head, stepping closer, his hands in his pockets. “You’re avoiding me,” he said.

Determined to stay firm in her resolve, she fired off a response, making sure the bite in her tone was clear. “You should probably take the hint, then.”

He smirked and brought a hand to her face, guiding a lock of hair behind her ear. “Or, you should drop the act and let us both out of our misery.”

Lauren swallowed hard, her body on fire to do exactly that. Her cheeks warmed, and she moved her head away from his hand. “I…I told you, we can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Well,” she said, taking a moment to curse herself for not having thought of a solution to their first hurdle, “Shana, for starters.”

Logan swiveled his head, then shrugged. “She isn’t here,” he said. “She won’t find out, and it won’t affect her job. What’s your next reason?”

His hand rose to her face again, but she jerked her head back.

“~It~ won’t affect her job? What is this ‘it’ to you, exactly?” Lauren asked, her heart pounding because of the dangerous direction in which she was steering the conversation.

His face revealed nothing as he took a moment to answer; it was clear why he was such a successful businessman. “You asked for one night, sex only. I want more than one night.”

Her heart skipped a beat, though her brain wasn’t sure why. It was the most political answer he could have given: he acknowledged what she’d said she wanted, and he told her what he wanted, all while revealing nothing about his feelings.

So did he want more than one night of sex only, or did he want more than one night with sex and feelings, meaning a relationship?

Deciding it didn’t matter because a relationship was out of the question, Lauren considered whether she could do the fuck-buddy thing.

If she could find a way to guarantee that Shana’s job would be secure and that no one would find out so his name wouldn’t eclipse hers, could she have a purely physical relationship with Logan?

Casting those big ifs aside, Lauren knew she wasn’t built that way. She couldn’t remove feelings from sex—her emotions were already going crazy from one night with him.

Lauren sighed. “There are plenty of women dying to have more than one night with you, Logan. You don’t need me.”

She stepped to the side to go around him, but he put one hand on her shoulder and one on her hip, guiding her to the wall. Then he caged her with his arms, getting close and bathing her with his heat and cologne.

Logan’s gaze smoldered with intensity. “I don’t need you. True. There are other women. Also true.” He pressed his body against hers. “But I want you.”

Her stupid heart skipped another beat as he brought his lips as close as possible to hers without kissing her. She hated that she didn’t move away, that her willpower weakened around him like his presence was its kryptonite.

He was saying things she wanted to hear, but at the same time, he wasn’t telling her anything.

Knowing she was being an idiot, running for the red flags like she didn’t know it was going to end badly, she asked a question that had been plaguing her mind since Valentine’s Day. “Why?” she whispered. “Why do you want me?”

Logan held himself firm, eyes locked onto hers and lips hovering. Lauren couldn’t breathe as she waited for his answer. After what felt like an eternity, he opened his mouth to speak, but heels clicking down the hallway interrupted them.

In an instant, Lauren’s airspace cleared of Logan’s presence. In one stride of his long legs, he was three feet away from her, but from the way her body reacted, she’d have thought he was on the other side of the world.

Shivering from the absence of his body heat, Lauren drew in deep breaths, his scent still lingering in her mouth, just as a stunning woman came around the corner.

She wore a black designer gown, most of her thin, tall body—heavy in all the right places—on display beneath the sheer jeweled fabric. Her hair was piled high in elegant curls atop her head.

Giving Logan a sly smile, she said, “There you are, darling. I’ve been looking for you.” She draped her arm through Logan’s. “Daddy would like a word.”

Lauren’s stomach dropped despite herself. Of course he came here with a date. He was Logan Hawke, a notorious player and ladies’ man. He could fuck and move on, which was why she’d agreed to one night with him.

But if he’d moved on, why was he still chasing her?

~He’s just messing with my head, getting back at me for sneaking out on him~, Lauren concluded. ~He doesn’t really want me. He wants to win.~

With determination and willpower back up, Lauren plastered a tight smile on her face. “I need to go check on the kitchen staff. Excuse me,” she said then took off toward the party.

Lauren yearned for her sweatpants and trashy reality TV shows—and more wine—but since she could have all that when she got home, she went back to focusing on the event, on her career.

She spent the next two hours going through her checklists, checking on her client, and mingling, away from Logan of course, but her mind couldn’t be solely on the job.

Heading out the back to the gardens that were off-limits to guests, she leaned against one of the out-of-sight archways. Resting her head on the wall, she closed her eyes, letting the chilly air and drizzle quiet her mind.

This year’s Valentine’s Day curse was really having fun with her. She’d rather be stood up, dumped, or cheated on because those effects didn’t linger. They didn’t create constant nagging thoughts that impacted her career ambitions.

Hearing footsteps in the gravel to her right, Lauren sighed. “This area is off-limits to guests,” she said, opening her eyes, standing straight, and turning to face them. “Please go ba—”

It was him.

Logan strode up to her, not giving her time to back away, but as soon as his lips crashed down on hers, she no longer had the desire to stop him.