Irreplaceable (4 page)

Alone at last, at least except for the mumbling of voices
not quite audible through the door. I chose to ignore it and slipped off my
robe, gown, and white cotton panties. I stepped slowly into the warm shower and
sat on the cool metal seat.

The shower sprayer detached and I held it in one hand
while the other lathered soap over my abused body.

I had to admit that by the time my hair was washed and
body clean, I was exhausted. The only issue that bugged me was my back, which
was in need of a good scrub from all the lying down I’d been doing over the
last couple days. The sponge baths hadn’t seemed to be enough, and it was the
one place on my body that still felt oily and grimy.

With a grunt from the stab in my chest, I reached out and
grabbed the towel, wrapping it around my front. After I was covered as well as
possible I then turned around so I could call Jeffery in and see if he could
help. It was his job, right? I had no clue, but I was desperate. Still, I
wasn’t going to show him more than necessary; he’d only see my back and a bit
of my ass. It would be worth it to feel clean again.

Leaning back I stretched my arm through the shower
curtain and knocked on the door.  

 “Can you help me a moment, Jeffery?” I yelled.

Straightening myself back on the seat, it hit me, would
Logan might intervene yet again? Would he be that pigheaded?  I should have
told Jeffery to throw him out but I didn’t have it in me. I just wanted to have
the sweat washed from my back, was that too much to ask?

I closed my eyes and begged for a little luck.
Please
don’t let Logan come in, Please don’t let Logan come in, Please don’t let Logan
come—
.

The door opened, and when I peered over my shoulder,
there he was—blocking the door.

“Get out!” I screamed, closing the curtain back all the
way.

Jeffery was there on the other side of Logan, yet I
couldn’t see him. I could only hear him explaining how he was going to call
security. Logan stood firm, his hands on each side of the door frame, back to
me.

Was this a joke?

“What do you need?” Logan asked, craning his neck back.

What do I need? Ha, where to start that list? Aside from
you getting out of my room and leaving me to finish putting myself together?

I was tired and ready for bed, so with a loud, drawn-out
sigh expressing my annoyance, I conceded and held the washcloth out, keeping my
back to him and eyes glued on the tiled wall ahead of me.

“Sir, security is on their way up,” I heard Jeffery tell
him.

My shoulders slumped forward.

“That’s not necessary, but thank you. Alright Logan, you
want to help be my guest!.”

Logan shut the door, grumbling something under his breath
to Jeffery.

“I need help washing my back.” I glanced over my shoulder
with narrowed, threatening eyes. “If one single finger strays, I swear it will
be gone!”

A single soft chuckle caught in his throat, and then I
felt him move forward. His breath was on my skin, followed by the warm, soapy
washcloth.

“Run the water down your back,” he said, his voice
strained.

Was I affecting him? I highly doubted it. He’d seen more
naked backs than most men I knew.

I held the sprayer up over my shoulder and pulled my hair
out of the way. Logan started at my neck, his fingers kneading the cloth
against my skin, wiping away more than just grime. I closed my eyes and relaxed
into the gentle feeling of the cloth over my tender back as he moved over my
shoulder blades, taking his time not to miss a single spot.

“Does it hurt?” he asked after a few moments of silence.

“No.”

It wasn’t a lie—it really didn’t hurt. I’d caught a
little glimpse in the mirror the day before of the superficial scratches across
my back from the impact of the pavement, but there was little pain. Although
that could’ve had something to do with the painkillers I was on, the more I
thought about it.

The cloth cleaned the base of my back, and I could’ve
sworn I heard him release a ragged breath.

“Cassandra—”

“Don’t.”

Once the cloth was gone, Logan leaned over and turned the
water off, then wrapped my robe around me. He didn’t speak a word and neither
did I, but it didn’t matter. I was hurt and angry, and all I wanted to do was
heal my body before my heart.

We needed the silence; without it, he’d reel me back in.
I knew that now. There was no doubt that my body was still attracted to him.
I’d stand no chance, and that wasn’t an option.

I swore right then as I stood from the shower seat,
looking over at him, that I wouldn’t let him charm me again. My heart was off
limits, and it was time to prove that I was strong enough to put myself back
together.

Logan left the room, and I dressed in a clean gown and
fresh panties from my small suitcase near the counter.

Logan was there to help me back to bed when I opened the
door, dragging the IV pole behind me. Jeffery was standing in the doorway, and
I wondered what Logan had said to him to put that look on his face.

I fixed a reassuring smile on my lips and watched him
relax visibly.

“I’ll leave you alone now, but if you need anything at
all, just buzz,” he said before leaving.

“Thank you,” I said, slightly miffed he’d allowed Logan
to help me in the bathroom.

Once I was tucked back into bed, Logan handed me a glass
of ice water as though he could read my mind. My throat was parched. I sipped
while he sat back in his chair, where he remained until the end of visiting
hours. I didn’t speak to him again, making it clear he was unwanted.

I hoped he’d leave me in peace and spare me the agony of
enduring his beautiful eyes on me any longer. However, like before, he remained
staring down at me thoughtfully the entire time until the nurse entered and
informed him it was time to leave.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Cassandra. Sleep well,” he
said, standing and walking to claim his coat.

“There’s no reason to come back. I’m done, Logan. You
can’t change how I feel.”

He slipped his watch back on and unrolled his sleeves
before pulling on his coat.

“Good night.”

That was all he said as he left the room, leaving me
alone with my thoughts and resolute commitment to keep myself as guarded a
possible to protect myself from him, no matter what I had to do. I wouldn’t be
that girl again.

The next morning, Logan was back
by the time breakfast was served. He removed the cafeteria tray I’d been
picking at and replaced it with a covered plate. He lifted the lid, revealing a
beautiful omelet with all the fixings. Ignoring him, I dug in. It tasted as
good as it looked.

Concentrating on the food, I smiled when I heard Logan
leave the room. Was he really giving in? Taking the hint that he was wasting
his time? If so, then why would he show up to begin with? I held little hope.

As I assumed, he hadn’t taken the hint. He was back less
than a minute later, with a file box in his hands.

My brows knit together as he sat in the chair beside me
and opened the lid. I watched, too curious to look away, when he set the box
and lid on the floor and pulled out a stack of catalogs.

Was he really going to do some shopping here? I swallowed
another bite, controlling the flurry of annoyance growing when he held up a
Pottery Barn catalog and red marker, smiling.

“You don’t have to talk to me, but I thought you might
want to fight off some of your boredom by helping me finish the details of
Julia’s new place.”

Julia’s house—the house I bet him she would love and, if
she did, he’d be my slave for a weekend. I grimaced at the thought of me being
indebted to him.

“I was hoping to have it furnished by spring break and do
the big reveal to her then,” he continued, setting the items at my side on the
bed when I made no move to take them from his hands. “She still doesn’t know,
and I’m sure you’ll want to make it look perfect…unless you’re calling off the
bet?”

I wanted to say, “Yes—the bet is off, and you’re crazy,”
and scream at him to get out of my room. But instead, I swallowed the bite of
egg in my mouth and nodded. “A bet’s a bet.”

After breakfast, I scoured the catalogs diligently,
circling the most lavish, expensive items I found—ones I knew she’d love, but
would impact Logan’s bank account the most. The Restoration Hardware catalog
was just the ticket for that.

It was in his hands, and I watched as he sat back in the
chair, leg rested over his knee, flipping through pages. He circled something,
then dog-eared a page. My attention was piqued—he’d been going through the same
book for over an hour, and only pulled the marker from his ear a total of five
times to note of something he liked.

Curious, I dropped the catalog in my hand and snatched
the one from his. The whole picture of him sitting there browsing for furniture
was ridiculous, but still he sat there most of the morning. The page he’d been
on had a bright-green circle around a beautiful leather sofa with silver-stud
detail. The piece was gorgeous, but the fact that he’d picked it left me
unsettled. With a quick hand, I pulled the cap of my marker free with my teeth,
letting it protrude from my lips as I drew a giant X over his circle.

“And what’s wrong with the sofa?” he asked, slightly
miffed. He must’ve really liked it, which further pushed me to veto it.

“Too masculine.”

He eyed me skeptically as I flipped through, starting
over from page one until I landed on another item he’d circled: a stunning blue
Moroccan area rug. I honestly would’ve chosen it, as well. With a shrewd smile
in his direction, I crossed out the item and moved to the next page.

One after another, I crossed out his items and circled things
I liked better. If I wanted to win the bet—and I did
—
I needed the house to be perfect: feminine and homey. I had it
in the bag, especially since Logan had moved on from the furniture catalogs to
paint chips.

Before I could snatch the array of colors from his grip,
he moved his hand back, shaking his head with a soft chuckle.

“Not so fast. You may be taking over decorating the place,
but the color scheme is all mine. I’m not giving you the entire upper hand
here.”

My brows rose suggestively, and I feigned an exaggerated
pout. “Oh, and here I thought you’d let a girl win. You know, so you could be
my little slave for a couple days. All those possibilities...”

He was visibly affected by my seductive tone, but it
didn’t take long for his open mouth to shut into a boyish smirk. He leaned
forward, handing over the color palette. “Do your worst, sweetheart,” he
whispered. “I’m already at your will.”

I rolled my eyes in response. “On second thought, you can
pick the paint. I’m confident enough without it to win this hands down.”

He only grinned, watching me as I resumed my circling of
knickknacks for the bookshelves I chose. Yeah, I was buying everything Julia
would need and more.

After lunch, my head began to
throb, and I knew what that meant. I looked to the clock on the wall: after one
o’clock. It was time for my daily exercise—the worst part of the day. I loved
to work out, to run and stretch, but this was different—painful.

I closed my eyes and yawned to feign exhaustion, hoping
he’d take the hint and leave me to rest so he wouldn’t be around when Marilyn
came to collect me.

It didn’t work.

“Feel free to rest. I’m going to step out to call my
assistant to come collect everything that needs to be ordered, then I’ll be
back.” He stood and switched out the light.

Alone at last, I smiled to myself as he walked to the
door just as Marilyn entered.
So close.

“You know what time it is, Miss Cassandra.” Marilyn’s
voice was soft and sweet but had an undertone of authority, and I’d seen it at
work. No point in fighting the woman.