Never Look Back, page 16
His nostrils flared. “I imagined you in that dress, and my imagination didn’t come close to doing you justice.”
Redness flushed, and I spread my palm down the bodice as if it could smooth out my emotions that were racing wild. “Do you like it?”
Foolish girl, inviting the pain.
I didn’t know how to stop.
Logan straightened to his full height and took one step forward. Overpowering. Mind bending. Every single thing I’d once thought right.
“Do I like it?” His voice was close to a growl. “I’d forgotten what beauty really was until I found you standing in that basement.”
Heat flashed.
“Logan…we need to be careful.”
“Fuck being careful.”
He prowled my way. Every step he took sent a reverberation across the floor.
His hand landed on my hip, and he angled down to get in my face. “And for the record, there is nothing careful about the way you look.”
I stared up at him. “What if I asked you to be?”
Careful with me?
Careful with us?
Careful with this whole situation?
His mouth tipped into a wicked smirk. “You asked your father to stay with me, Aster. You didn’t just throw caution into the wind, you kicked it out the fucking door. And if he gave you thirty days?”
He spread his hand out over my cheek. “Then we’re going to use it.”
My insides trembled.
A landslide.
A toppling of stones.
Then he stepped back and stretched out his hand. “Do you trust me?”
Reservations clashed with the faith I’d once had in him. Faith that he would always stand up for me. That above the money, the greed, the desires, he would always hold me highest.
I wanted to believe he would hold me there again.
I accepted his hand without giving him an answer.
A thunderbolt raced my flesh.
Every touch.
Every time.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Dinner.” He said it simply, but there was an undercurrent in his tone that lifted chills on the nape of my neck.
Nerves that warned I was slipping into the unknown. When Logan told me he had a plan, it meant there would be action.
He wasn’t going to stand idle.
He was all in.
I worried that might be the greatest risk of all.
I whispered, “Okay.”
“Good girl.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to my forehead when he said it.
A soft sigh.
A humming of need.
The faintest smirk when he stepped back.
“We should go before we’re late.”
He led me out into the main room, helped me into my coat, and pressed his nose to the back of my ear. Inhaling, he murmured, “I think you have me hypnotized, Aster Rose.”
Without question, that was reversed because I walked along beside him to the elevator, leaned into his side as we rode it down, and relished in the feel of his arm linked around my waist like a leash.
Tension bound and built and blinded in the confined space.
A silence that screamed a million things.
Need and regret and far from pure intentions.
When the doors swept open, he guided me to his car and helped me into the passenger seat. He leaned in and reached over to buckle me.
It stole my breath all over again.
He slowly eased back, and his gaze tangled with mine as he went.
If he kept this up, I was going to succumb right then.
He rounded the front and slipped into the driver’s side, and he pulled out of the lot and onto the road. It took all of three minutes for him to be pulling into the valet in front of an upscale steakhouse attached to a hotel.
He was out and to my side in a flash. Opening the door, he extended his hand. I took it, felt the flames that licked up my arm and set fire to my insides.
I sucked in a stealing breath.
I was in trouble. So much trouble.
Leaning closer as he led me inside, his voice was a rough scrape at my ear, “Trust me, Aster.”
I wanted to. God, I wanted to.
But how did we make it past all that had been tainted? Past the ugliness?
Would there be anything left beyond it?
“Lawson,” he told the hostess.
“Right this way.”
She led us to a small table in the middle of the restaurant. It was covered in a black, draping tablecloth and adorned with a large white bouquet of fresh flowers with candles in the middle.
“Aster.” He said my name like a secret as he pulled out my chair, and his hands caressed my bare shoulders as he slipped off my coat.
“Thank you.” It barely made it to a whisper when he helped tuck me into the table.
He situated himself across from me. Severity played in his green, hypnotic gaze.
The dangerous kind. The kind that promised I wasn’t going to make it out of this unscathed.
He was up to something.
“Wine?” he asked.
“Please.”
A bottle or three.
When the server showed and introduced himself, Logan ordered us a bottle of Malbec.
“You look nervous.”
“And you look suspicious.” I said it with a bough of anxious curiosity.
That smirk danced around his delicious mouth. “Is that so? Suspicious? Surely not me?”
It would be a whole lot easier if he didn’t affect me this way.
“Nothing but a common criminal.” I didn’t know if it was a tease or a plea.
A deep roll of laughter punted from his mouth before his eyes narrowed. “I should hope you could recognize one.”
It was almost a taunt.
Almost pain.
All except for the truth of it.
“I suppose I should be able to.”
I sat back when the server presented our wine, and I managed a weak, “Thank you,” when he poured me a glass.
“I’ll be right back to take your orders.”
I took a shaky sip, and I let the dark, fruity flavor coat my tongue and throat as I swallowed and contemplated what to say.
“How deep does it go?” I finally hedged.
Logan was angled back in his chair, so casual the way he was, though there was no missing the ferocity that rolled through his body. “What are you implying, Aster? I’m as straightlaced as they come.”
A grin cracked his gorgeous face.
All faked easiness.
I leaned forward. “If you want me to trust you, you need to be honest with me.”
He blew out a sigh, chewed at the inside of his cheek, tapped his fingertips on the table as he studied me. “The gambling and some not so on the up and up investments. When we left LA, we left the rest behind.”
Then he shocked me when he leaned over the table. His palms were planted on the top, and his tone shifted from mild to lethal. “But I have a feeling that is about to change.”
Unease stirred in my chest. “The last thing I want is to cause you trouble, Logan.”
He roughed out a disbelieving sound, though there was something soft about it. “Oh, sweet Aster, you have been a lifetime of trouble, haven’t you?”
Hurt underlined his words, and I fidgeted, took another sip of my wine, and fiddled with a piece of my hair when the server returned.
We ordered our dinners, and when the server walked away, Logan lifted his glass in my direction. “To a new beginning.”
My teeth clamped down on my bottom lip. “And which new beginning is that?”
His smile was too dry. Too casual, though it radiated with an intonation of hate and power. “The one where Jarek Urso never touches you again.”
“I can drink to that.” The words wobbled free on an outpouring of my own determination.
Logan sat forward. There was something furious in his demeanor. “Drink to it? I can promise it.”
My throat thickened. “Logan…”
“I promise you,” he said again, words a growl. “He needs to be reminded of his place. Trust me, Aster.”
It was underlined with implication.
Worry burned through my being as I watched Logan from across the table as the server placed our salads in front of us.
“Is there anything else I can get for you while we await your entrees?”
“We’re fine.” Logan didn’t look away from me as he dismissed him.
Under his stare, I felt the ground tremble.
The whirring of the air.
I took a bite of my salad to distract myself from the magnitude of it.
As if the entire world was focused on me. My skin flushed.
That was right when a tacky, clammy awareness crawled over my skin. I looked up, over Logan’s shoulder, toward the bar on the far side of the restaurant, compelled by the tension that bound the air.
Black eyes stared back at me.
Jarek.
I gulped as fear crashed through my being, and my body heaved forward in shock.
Revulsion.
Loathing.
A sickness I couldn’t escape.
The fact that no matter where I went, Jarek would be right there.
My attention snapped back to Logan who looked as if he were about to go on a rampage. As if he were barely keeping it together.
“Did you know he was here?” It was a rattle of terror.
He gave me a tight nod. Did he have any idea the danger he was putting us in?
“So you brought me here?” The accusation was fueled by fear.
“I told you to trust me, Aster.”
My face pinched. “How can I trust you when you’re parading me around like bait?”
“Don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re not already the end-goal, Aster. You are the cup and the crown and every jewel that has ever existed.”
The blood thudded heavily in my veins.
“If you want me to help you, you have to trust me.”
Every line in his face was hard.
Every cell bated.
A tremble of foreboding in the air.
From across the room, I could feel Jarek tremoring, too.
It felt like I was being ripped between the two of them.
Logan pushed back his chair a fraction and patted his leg. “Come, sit on my lap, let me feed you.”
I gripped the edges of the table. “Are you insane? What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m simply reminding him of what he can no longer have.”
“You are trying to start a war.”
“What I’m doing is trying to set you free. And if a war is what it takes, then so be it.” The words were clipped, his expression fierce, the inevitability set deep in the wells of those green eyes. The browns and golds swirled from their depths.
Entrancing.
Enticing.
He patted his leg again. “Come here, Aster. My rules, remember?”
I’d almost forgotten the power I’d left him with.
I guzzled the entire glass of wine in search of courage, and I pushed from the chair.
Jarek never averted his caustic stare, and I could feel the lances of anger blistering through the room. It clashed with the stupid need that suddenly welled up in me as Logan sat there watching me like I was his.
Possession seared through his gaze as I slowly moved his way, but it was different than the way Jarek viewed me.
Logan looked at me like I was the treasure.
The reason.
The destination.
My breaths were jagged as I eased around to his side, and I settled down onto his lap, angled across him so both my legs draped off to one side.
Warmth spread fast, goosebumps a flash that sizzled along my arms and skated to my nape. Logan curled an arm around my waist, and I curled both of mine around his neck.
I was inundated with his aura.
Clove and cinnamon and corruption.
I knew that’s what he was set on.
He would see to it that even if I walked away, I would never be the same.
“Good girl,” he whispered in my ear.
Rage flooded the atmosphere.
My heart raced. Pounded and shook.
It was such a risky game.
Shaming Jarek.
Logan showing off his prize.
Needling a knife that just might end up in our backs.
A rustle moved through the restaurant, and eyes shifted our way, peeking, and others outright staring.
“They’re all looking at you,” Logan murmured in my ear. “The most gorgeous woman in the room. In the city. In my universe.”
Shivers tumbled down my spine.
“What they’re thinking is this is horribly inappropriate.” My response was barely a gasp.
The roughest chuckle scraped up his thick throat, coating me like a covetous caress, and his voice dropped even lower. “No, Aster, every man here wishes he were me right now. Including your husband.”
That was a growl, and he shifted me so that my legs were under the table, hidden by the cloth, though my body was still angled, my side pressed to his chest.
His chest that was big and warm and vibrated with bristling strength.
He reached into the basket and tore off a piece of bread, and he angled in so his lips were right next to mine when he balled it and slipped it into my mouth.
It was warm and soft, and I felt it like the soft lick of his tongue.
Then he slipped his hand under the table, his palm on my bare thigh where he slid his hand up under the slit, riding the bare flesh.
I gasped and curled deeper into his hold.
Logan ran his thumb along the top line of my inner thigh.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Shivers raced and greed rushed and desire pounded through my bloodstream.
It twisted me into a needy bow. Every cell rode a razor-sharp edge. Anticipation a slow burn that singed my skin.
“Logan.” The plea was out before I could stop it. “This is a bad idea.”
He leaned in to whisper in my ear, “No, Aster, men are the most reckless when they’re angry. When they’re pushed up against a wall. I’m merely showing Jarek where he stands. Most of all, he needs to know you no longer belong to him.”
I was the reckless one considering I could almost forget Jarek was even there.
I was losing all semblance of control.
Conceding to every brush of this man’s wicked, wicked hands.
Falling deeper into his darkness where I’d never find my way out.
And still, I let him continue, let him knead his fingers into my thigh, let him press his mouth to my neck as I peered over his shoulder at Jarek who was incensed.
A short fuse that was at its end.
His bastard jaw clenched, and his hand wrapped so tightly around a tumbler I was sure it would bust.
Logan shifted to send a smirk Jarek’s way.
Gauntlets and games.
This was so messed up. So wrong. And still, I remained on his lap like I was chained.
So foolish because I could run, but I couldn’t get away.
Jarek tossed back the rest of his whiskey before he shoved to his feet and tossed some cash onto the bar. His stare remained locked on us for one brutal beat before he stormed out and into the lobby of the hotel.
“This is wrong,” I whimpered, still holding onto Logan. I was worried if I let go, I would float away.
“Is it? Or is this exactly what you wanted?”
“I don’t know what I’m doing, Logan.”
“Men are motivated by three things, Aster. Money, women, and power. He’ll have none of them left when I’m finished with him, and you, Little Star, will be mine.”
My arms curled tighter, though the words climbed free of where I wanted to keep them locked. “Thirty days, Logan.”
It was all we had.
We were nothing but a time stamp.
One that might cost him everything.
Anger vibrated along the hard flesh beneath his suit.
My mangled, tattered heart flapped in the wind.
He let his arms fall to his sides. “You can get off my lap now.”
Shame burned through my body when I finally pulled away. Cheeks hot, I fumbled back to my side with a slick of humiliation burning me through.
I just couldn’t pinpoint what brought on the shame.
The server showed up with our meals just then, and I edged back, embarrassment tinging my cheeks.
What had I let him do?
Degrade me?
Is that what this was really about?
A show of hand?
A vendetta he would do anything to avenge?
Did he hate me that much?
I stared at my food.
“Eat, Little Star,” Logan said, no emotion in his voice other than the inflexibility of stone.
My head dipped, and I at least found the self-preservation to make one request. “Please, don’t call me that.”
Leaning forward over the table, he brushed the hair back from my face and set his palm on my cheek. “I wish I could stop.”
SEVENTEEN
LOGAN
I handed off my credit card to the server to pay the ridiculously expensive bill for the dinner Aster had barely eaten. The girl hadn’t cast me a glance while she’d picked at her food, while I’d sat there like my guts were getting chewed up and Aster was the one who was going to spit them out.
Thirty days.
Thirty fucking days.
And she had every intention of leaving me.
I wasn’t sure what had come over me. I didn’t plan this dinner with the intention of pulling the stunt that I had.
I’d just wanted the show.
To send a clear message to Jarek that we were not deterred. That we were not afraid.
Then I’d pushed it to a place I shouldn’t have let it go.
The possession that had wound through my being. The urge to hold her that had twitched through my fingers.
I blamed it on that dress.
The all-consuming need I’d had to touch her in front of him. To prove to him that he could never have her again.
Or maybe I’d just been trying to prove it to her.
