Blind Date with the Boss (Heads or Hearts #6)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

‘WHERE are we going?’ Sally asked as the BMW purred through the forest of skyscrapers in Sydney’s CBD.

‘My place.’

Logan’s quiet answer sent a jolt through her that almost launched her out of her seat.

‘Is that okay?’ he asked, shooting her an anxious sideways glance.

‘Yes. Absolutely.’ Her voice was surprisingly calm and confident considering that Logan Black was taking her home, almost certainly to make love to her. She closed her eyes as the impact of this washed over her, bringing wave after wave of shivery excitement.

It was so hard to believe this was actually happening. But it felt right, perfectly right. The whole “boss” fa?ade had fallen away this evening and Sally had seen a man facing his greatest fear.

Even if she hadn’t already been totally smitten by his good looks, or touched by the way he’d tried so earnestly to learn to dance, and with the way he bought white roses for his grandmother, and a thousand other sweet things about him, she would have fallen head over heels tonight.

Tonight, she’d looked into his eyes and she’d seen his soul stripped bare. His vulnerability had given her new courage. She longed to offer him comfort, support, strength, humour – whatever he needed. Everything she had. Heart and body and soul.

He turned off the street and drove into the ground floor garage of a tall apartment block, a pillar of glass and steel. A flurry of nervous excitement rose from Sally’s stomach to her throat. Logan turned to her and smiled, gorgeously, and she took a deep breath.

‘Let me guess,’ she said. ‘You live on the top floor.’

‘I do. I hope you’re not afraid of heights.’

‘I’m absolutely terrified of them.’

About to get out of the car, he hesitated and looked concerned.

Sally grinned. ‘Only joking.’

‘Minx. I’ll bet you climbed all the tallest gum trees when you were a kid.’ Reaching out, he pretended to cuff her cheek, then he leapt out of the car and Sally quickly opened her door.

As they walked to the lift, Logan took her hand and she could feel the warmth of him running through her like a current.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and smiled. ‘You OK?’

Her only reply was to squeeze his hand.

They were alone in the lift as it climbed upwards and he drew her to him and kissed her cheek. Floating on a cloud of desire, she turned in his arms, lifted her lips for another kiss and Logan obliged with enchanting slowness.

‘Now that we’re being honest with each other, I can tell you that’s been a recent fantasy of mine,’ she murmured against his jaw.

‘To be kissed in the lift?’

‘To be kissed by my boss in the lift.’

He chuckled. The lift doors slid open and they stepped out. Sally’s heart drummed as Logan swiped a plastic tag over a keypad and the door to his penthouse opened.

It was like stepping into a movie set. Logan’s open plan penthouse was stunning with acres of glowing timber flooring, modern Scandi-style furniture and sleekly minimalist kitchen fittings. Discreet mood lighting and walls of glass revealed the magic of inner Sydney’s nightscape.

Sally looked about her with wide-eyed delight. His home was the complete opposite of Chloe’s cosy town house and yet, despite its grandeur, Sally thought it offered a sense of welcome and surprising serenity.

‘This place suits my needs for the moment.’ Logan reached for her hands. ‘Are you hungry? My housekeeper leaves frozen meals. I could zap something in the microwave. Do you like Vietnamese food?’

‘I don’t know,’ Sally said. ‘I’m afraid I’ve never tried it, but I’m sure it’s delicious.’ She looked at him from beneath lowered lashes. ‘But I’m not really hungry.’ Not for food .

He took the hint and drew her closer, ‘So, tell me. Have you ever been kissed in a penthouse?’

‘Never,’ she whispered, slipping into his arms, easily, happily.

He nuzzled her ear and sent delicious shivers scampering over her skin. ‘Is it one of your fantasies?’

‘I’ve just added it to my list.’

Her eyes drifted closed as he kissed her with lazy and tantalising thoroughness.

‘Nice,’ she murmured dreamily. ‘Now, what’s your fantasy?’

He chuckled. ‘You’re taking a risk, aren’t you?’

‘I don’t think so, Logan. I trust you.’ How wonderful it was to be able to say that.

For a moment the amusement in his eyes faded. Gently he traced the curve of her cheek. ‘I hope I deserve your trust, Sally.’

She gave him a playful punch in the midriff. ‘Stop worrying.’

‘I can’t help feeling responsible for you.’

‘I’m a grown woman. You’re supposed to feel lust for me.’

‘That’s a guaranteed certainty.’ He tucked a curl behind her ear. ‘I’ll happily share my fantasy with you. It’ll only take a minute to organise.’

Scant minutes later, Sally was curled beside him on a big red sofa, with a glass of chilled white in her hand, while the rich and glorious sounds of the Brahms violin concerto rolled over them.

‘I’ve listened to this music every night since we talked about it at the teambuilding workshop,’ he told her. ‘And I imagined you here, listening to it, too.’

Stunned, she set her shaking glass down on the coffee table. Every night? It was incredible that Logan had been thinking about her all this time. Incredibly fabulous.

‘And – and what did I do?’ she asked. ‘In your fantasy?’

‘Oh, you sat very close.’ With his arm around her shoulders, he kissed the top of her head. The gorgeous music swelled and soared above and around them and Sally closed her eyes and nestled against him. He smelled so good – a musky male scent mixed with the clean fragrance of his laundered shirt.

The music slowed to the especially beautiful section they both loved. They sat listening and to Sally the notes were like kisses caressing her skin… here… and here…… and here…

And here…

‘I think Brahms must have been in love when he wrote this music,’ she said.

‘It’s very possible. He fell in love quite regularly.’

‘Did he ever marry?’

‘No. He had affairs, apparently – a very famous one with Clara Schumann – but he was completely committed to his art.’

‘For which we’re very grateful,’ Sally said softly.

Logan’s fingers sifted through her curls. ‘Your hair is such an amazing colour and it’s so silky and soft.’ His deep voice had turned husky.

‘I’m rather keen on your chin.’ She pressed a kiss against his stubbled jaw. ‘It’s so raspy and rough.’

The music wound higher and higher, mimicking the tightening coil of wanting inside her. ‘Logan, I do hope you made love to me in this fantasy.’

‘Oh, Sally!’

He pulled her closer, sealed her mouth with his and desire flamed between them with the speed of fire in dry grass. Suddenly they were kissing and touching with reckless fervour. Sally arched into Logan and his hands slipped under her blouse. His thumbs brushed the tight peaks of her breasts and longing pooled inside her.

Her cry of need echoed his and in the next heartbeat, they were frantically helping each other out of their clothes.

? * ? * ? *

Sally and Logan lay naked, their bodies loose and relaxed in the aftermath of their lovemaking.

‘Thank you,’ she murmured as she nestled her head on Logan’s shoulder and watched the moon reach through the high circular window to cast interesting patterns over their bodies. ‘You’ve no idea how grateful I am.’

He chuckled softly and his hand settled on her waist. With a slow possessive action, he traced the pale, moonlit curve from her waist to her hip. ‘I’m sure the gratitude is mutual, Sally.’

‘I’m not just talking about sex.’ Sally took a quick breath. It was time to tell this man who’d just made sweetly tender and passionate love to her, that he’d released her fear. ‘I had a bad experience at a dance. I was almost raped and –’

Logan’s hand stilled.

‘—I’ve been frightened of men,’ Sally told him.

He sat up swiftly. ‘That’s terrible. Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘I – I didn’t want to scare you off.’

‘You poor girl. If I’d known that, I would have been mor gentle with you.’

‘You were perfectly gentle, Logan. You were gently perfect.’ She took his hands. ‘I must confess something.’

‘Something else? What is it?’ His voice sounded choked, as if he’d swallowed pebbles.

‘Coming to Sydney has been a bit of an experiment.’

‘I’ve been part of an experiment?’

‘Sort of.’ But I didn’t plan it that way. I came here to prove to my family that I’m okay now. They were getting too worried about me, tiptoeing around me, treating me like some sort of patient. When Chloe left me her house, I’m afraid I jumped at the chance to escape. And then, when you asked me to help you with dancing lessons, I realised you’d offered me the perfect chance to face up to my fears.’

Logan’s face was in shadow so she couldn’t see his reaction, but then he leaned forward into the puddle of moonlight and his grim and strained expression betrayed his shock. ‘You took a terrible risk, Sally.’

‘Not really.’

‘I might have been as bad as the mongrel who attacked you.’

‘You sound like my brothers.’ Lifting his hands to her lips, she kissed them. ‘Right from the day you fell in the duck pond, I knew you were really nice.’

‘Nice? I hate that word.’

She shrugged. ‘Now you’re pretending to be tough again, when you’re really a softie.’ With her fingertip, she traced his jawline and it was anything but soft. ‘Seriously, you really have helped me more than you could guess. Getting to know you, learning to trust you, having you make love to me – it’s all been –’

‘Therapeutic?’ Logan supplied as she searched for the right word.

Sally laughed, then dropped her head to press kisses into the shadowy base of his neck. ‘Honestly, Logan, you’re way better than any therapy.’ She let her voice sound sultry.

Releasing a soft sound, half growl, half sigh, he gathered her in and whispered in her ear. ‘Honestly, Sally, I’d recommend a little more of my therapy.’

She smiled in the darkness, snuggled closer. ‘Isn’t honesty the best thing?’

Logan woke early to the sounds of morning traffic rising from the streets below and to an unfamiliar sense of well-being.

Beside him, Sally slept soundly. She looked impossibly young and defenceless as she lay there, with her bright curls tumbling over the pillow and the white sheet pushed aside to reveal one sweet, pink-tipped breast. He thought again about what she’d told him about the mongrel at the dance and he was gripped by an overwhelming desire to protect her.

But that urge was tempered by an equally irresistible desire to wake Sally.

A few soft kisses would stir her and she would roll towards him, welcoming the new day with more lovemaking – open, honest, tender-sweet, unabashed lovemaking.

Logan sighed heavily. That exquisite pleasure would have to be set aside for now. It was Friday morning and a particularly unpleasant business day awaited him.

He was used to waking every working morning to a sense of pressure and worry, but today he faced especially distasteful duties. Maria’s quiet but immediate departure had to be arranged, and he had to notify his competitors that he knew what they’d been up to. He also needed to take another careful look at his long-term strategies.

He went through to the kitchen, turned on his coffee machine, then went to the bathroom and shaved and showered. Sally woke when he came back into the bedroom with a towel around his hips.

She grinned at him, hitched onto one elbow and let her eyes rake over his body with frank admiration and the temptation to dive back into bed with her was almost too much.

Sensing his hesitation, she looked momentarily disappointed, then sniffed the air. ‘You’ve already made coffee? Have I slept in? What time is it?’

‘After seven.’

With a groan she rolled to the edge of the bed. ‘Will we have time to go via my place, so I can get clean clothes before work?’

‘If you get a wriggle on.’

‘And I’ll need breakfast. I can’t function on a cup of coffee the way you can, Logan.’ In the bathroom doorway, she turned back to him. ‘I just remembered we’re going to the ball tonight.’

Her teeth flashed white and she sent him an excited smile before she disappeared, but Logan didn’t feel nearly so happy. The last thing he needed at the end of this difficult day was the ordeal of dancing in public with Diana Devenish.