Ineligible Bachelor (11 page)

Freddy swallowed hard. Logan in the dark had been über-distracting. She distinctly remembered his eyes reflecting every bit
of lightning they captured, his lips looking full and ready to kiss in the shadows playing off his face. A feeling of weight building inside her chest made her breathe hard and deep, as all her feminine synapses tuned into him.

She squared her shoulders. “It won’t be the same. We were alone in this huge place.”

“You were concentrating on the blackout, and I got your mind off it.” He tapped his lips with his forefinger. “If I remember correctly. I would call that pretty distracting. Suddenly, you seemed to forget that you signed an iron-clad contract to hook me up at the end of this adventure.”

Heat started to grow inside her, and she wondered if it showed on the apples of her cheeks, which burned as if they were seven inches from the sun. “Maybe you got close to kissing me, but I was nowhere near there.” She walked away from him.

“Is that so?” He tapped a forefinger on his chin. “Hmmm. Could have fooled me.”

“So you better get that notion out of your mind and concentrate on what’s ahead of you,” she said, hoping her voice sounded unemotional. “Because tomorrow, one lady gets you all to herself for a few hours, and it’s up to me which one.”

He turned to look at her. “You want a hint on which one I’d like?”

“No,” she said quickly. “But I promise this will be a positive experience if we stick to the plan.”

He pulled himself up and stood. “You never got around to telling me what the plan actually was.”

She smiled. “I guess that means I distracted you.”

“I guess you did.” He walked to her and parked one hip dangerously close to her before crossing his arms and looking down.

She leaned back in the chair to put as much distance between them as she could. His nearness was making it a little hard for her
to concentrate. “Ready to hear my plan?” she managed to whisper after looking up into his incredible eyes.

“I don’t know. Am I?” He put his hands on the armrests, virtually locking her in place.

She closed her fingers around the seat and looked up at him. “We can team up right now, outsmart Roberto, and have a whole lot of fun in the process.”

“What’s the catch?”

“I’ll pick the date; you keep it platonic.”

He straightened, a puzzled expression on his face. “How does that make it fun for me?”

“I’m sure word will spread among the women like proverbial wildfire. Each one will ramp up the interaction. Won’t it be fun to see what they do while you stay at arm’s length from them?” Lordy, she hoped she sounded convincing. She watched plenty of reality TV love shows. There was no other way she could think of to keep his lips off theirs and vice versa.

“I’m not sure that will work,” he said, straightening and sounding quite serious.

Freddy’s stomach lurched. “Why?”

“Won’t make good TV. There are always hugs and hand-holding and kisses. Why should my show be any different?”

“It’s your show now? A bit arrogant, don’t you think?”

“Well, it is called
Eligible Bachelor
, not
Blindside Your Best Friend
.”

“So that’s what this is all about. You’re still mad at me for getting you into this.”

“Trapping me into this,” he corrected.

She flipped her hand. “Whatever.”

As if she had also flipped his angry switch to full-on, Logan grabbed the armrests again and pinned her to the chair’s backrest
with his gaze. “It’s whatever it takes to get me through this little game and back to work.”

Freddy pressed herself as deeply into the woven fabric as the backrest would allow. Logan’s face loomed about two inches from hers. “Exactly what do you mean?”

“I mean I will play this game out and be darn entertaining about it because I don’t have a choice. If I don’t give good, convincing TV, then how can I possibly sell ad campaigns to clients? How effective does bombing in the ratings make me look for realistic marketing pitches?”

Freddy grimaced. “I’ll have to think about that.”

“And while you’re thinking about the corner you put me into, you can also think about this.” He closed the small space between them and kissed her.

As his lips closed over hers, she managed a small intake of breath. It didn’t take long for the blood to rush to her head and pound in her ears. His lips were warm and soft. They tasted like good wine—rich, spicy, with maybe a hint of boldness—and she wanted to taste a bit more. So she did the only thing she could think to do under the circumstances: she grabbed his shoulders and kissed him back.

She didn’t know when he’d pulled her to her feet or when he had put his arms around her. But suddenly, they were wrapped around each other, kissing with every ounce of passion they could muster.

How long the kisses lasted, she didn’t know that either, only that it had not been nearly long enough when he took his mouth from hers far enough to speak. “Well, this is a development the producers won’t see coming.”

“What do you mean?”

“I felt the way you kissed me back, Freddy. You can’t want me to kiss anyone else.”

He was right, so terribly right. She didn’t want him to kiss anyone else; she wanted him to kiss her and only her. Already well into the show, doing anything but fulfilling the contract she signed—albeit without reading it—would have serious consequences for Logan and his job. She had no choice but to finish what she started, no matter how much she hated the thought.

Her head swam from the kiss, but somehow she managed to clear the fog enough to speak. “It doesn’t matter much what either of us wants. It only matters about a signed contract with heavy-duty penalty clauses if either of us tries to break it.”

“Then you want me to kiss other women.”

“You know it’s not that simple anymore. The show’s filming. A lot of money has already been spent, money for the mansion, money to bring everyone here. And let’s not even mention the food and wardrobe bill for the cast and production staff. I bet it’s astronomical already. Have you seen the size of the key grips alone?”

“So it boils down to appearances and protocols?”

She shrugged. “What else could it be?” Had her face stayed neutral? Gawd, she hoped so because her insides were reeling.

“Okay.” He straightened and the warmth that bubbled between them dissipated, as fast as she imagined an ice cube probably would melt on Venus.

“Okay,” she repeated.

The ensuing silence roared, broken mercifully in a few moments by a chorus of voices in the hallway. Freddy looked over Logan’s shoulder toward the din. A large gang of people gathered in the hallway.

A woman with big hair and even bigger eyeliner pushed her way into the room. “We have two hours for hair and makeup.” She walked to Freddy and ran a hand through Freddy’s hair. “And I think we’ll need every minute of it.” She turned to Logan and
made a dismissing gesture. “So if you wouldn’t mind, I believe someone is laying out wardrobe for you in your suite.”

As three people surrounded her, Freddy watched Logan leave. Her heart sank deeper into her stomach. Someone pushed a chair right behind her knees, and she fell into it. She felt hairbrushes tangle into her hair.

“And this is the dress for tonight, people,” she heard Roberto say. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a flash of blue she had never seen on any color wheel. The dress hung from a satin hanger and looked ridiculously soft with the way it poured to the floor in graceful curves.

The makeup artist opened a huge train case and began mixing colors to match it. “Don’t worry, honey,” he said, setting out more brushes than Michelangelo would have used painting the Sistine Chapel. “I promise you’re not going to recognize yourself after I’m done with you.”

That’s good,
Freddy thought—because when she watched the show when it aired in a few weeks, she’d rather think someone else handed Logan over to another woman for the day.

Logan rubbed the back of his neck, trying to shake the headache that came on suddenly, almost dislodging the earpiece in his left ear.

“Remember to keep the left side of your body out of the camera angles as much as possible to hide the earpiece,” Roberto’s cautioning voice said. “If there seems to be a lull in the action, I’ll prompt you with something to do to pick up the pace.”

Logan shot Roberto a thumbs-up just as Emily approached.

She handed him a folded bit of paper. “I wrote this for you.”

“Another poem?” he asked, taking it from her hand.

She nodded. “I’ve decided to write a poem about each experience we have and then post them all on Facebook after this is over.”

Logan heard a loud sigh over the earpiece, right before Freddy’s voice.
“Oh, she is so out of here.”

He turned his head and feigned a cough to cover what would have been a laugh.

“Are you all right?” Emily asked him, touching his shoulder.

Logan smiled as he turned to her. “Nothing more than an annoying little irritation that pops up from time to time.”

“Let me get you some water,” Emily said, spinning on her heels.

“Annoying irritation?
” Freddy’s voice crackled in his ear.

Logan put his fingertips on the earpiece. “That about describes it.”

“What does the poem say this time?”

He unfolded the paper and read. “Something about the adventure of the chase and the spoils of war.”

“Something about that or exactly about that.”

He ignored the brevity in her tone. “And about how nice it would be to walk through the woods in the moonlight with me.”

“Good thing she’s a writer because she can use her imagination for that one. She is so gone.”

“You can’t toss her off the show just because she wrote me a poem.”

“Watch me.”

Logan tapped the earpiece. “What was that? You’re breaking up.”

Freddy started yelling—loud and nearly unintelligible because she talked so fast. Logan coughed again to cover a laugh and took the earpiece out, letting it hang over his shoulder. Every now and then, he’d lift the earpiece from his shoulder and angle it toward his ear. He could still hear Freddy yelling.

“Now what’s wrong?” Roberto asked, watching Freddy pace inside the library.

She stopped and turned slowly to him, pointing in the direction of the study. “That is the most infuriating man ever.”

Roberto looked pleased. “Perfect. Makes for good TV.”

She rolled her eyes, the universal sign of annoyance. “I hate it when you say that.”

Roberto picked up a clipboard from the desk and flipped through some blue paper. “Now, because you never let anyone capture the flag, we have a situation.”

She folded her arms over her chest. “Have I told you how much I hate that clipboard?”

“Daily since we got here.”

“At least you know.”

“Here’s another thing I know.” He briefly looked up at her before starting on some yellow pages. “The flag is out in the study on a tray.” He tucked the clipboard under his arm and glared at her. “And someone is getting it.” He paused for emphasis. “From you.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

In one motion, Roberto reclaimed the clipboard and began to read. “It says right here…”

She raised her hand to stop him. “I don’t care what it says on the paper you have under your arm. You told me that the contestant who manages to capture the flag gets that date.” She pointed with each word. “They didn’t, so they don’t.”

“It says right here,” he continued ignoring her, “week one, Logan goes on a date with the first contender.” He flipped to the last sheet and angled it toward her. “Your signature?”

She pressed her lips together. “Yes.” The words barely slipped from behind clenched teeth.

He pointed. “Then one of them gets the flag, and I suggest you start thinking about which one gets lucky.”

Freddy pasted on a forced smile and entered the study with the show host. Everyone turned toward them. Logan nodded at her. Some of the contestants waved their hello.

“Ladies, if you wouldn’t mind,” the host said. He gestured beside him. “Logan, please join us.” Logan took his place.

Freddy could feel her facial muscles begin to twitch. Holding the artificial smile on her face started to get painful. She looked at Logan. His smile seemed genuine. He might be enjoying the situation too much.

“And now the unpleasant part of the day,” she heard the host continue. “One of you will be going home.” The contestants groaned, some of them catching Logan’s gaze and putting on an exaggerated sad face.

Oh, you bet someone’s going home,
Freddy thought. But she didn’t know who. Panic set in. She had been so infuriated with Logan, she forgot to think about choosing one.

That had to have been his plan, she decided. No matter. She held each of the contestant’s gazes one at a time. The one most googly-eyed would be toast, and right now the poet looked like the most likely candidate.
Bye-bye, blondie.

But before she could say anything, the show host threw her a curve. “But Logan, you can save the unlucky lady.”

Logan looked more interested. Freddy felt her smile slip. No one ever said anything about a save.