Logan's Redemption (4 page)

“Look, Dorie,” he said, running frustrated fingers through his hair. “I need this job. Your dad trusted me enough to hire me. I have no problem working with you, but you seem to have a huge one with me.”

Her nostrils flared and her eyes narrowed. She looked like a cornered cat, ready to pounce. God, she was beautiful. His tenuous control slipped a notch.
Focus
, he commanded.

“You were forced on me,” she said. “My father picked you. I’d rather do the work myself.”

“You’d rather do the work yourself than look at me every day?”  Logan kept a tight rein on the anger and hurt that twisted his stomach. “Not very professional.”

Her fingers wrapped tightly around the pen. “My professionalism has never been called into question.”

Logan let his breath out and relaxed, willing calmness into his body. He needed this job. But he needed her acceptance too, if not her trust. “I’m not asking you to like me, but I am asking for a cordial business relationship. You may not have chosen me, but I’m here. That’s a fact you can’t change. So make the best of it and life will be easier for both of us.”

Her brown eyes flashed. “I don’t appreciate being lectured.”

“And I don’t appreciate being treated like backfill from one of your construction sites.”

Pink tinged her smooth ivory cheeks. “I don’t do that.”

The phone on her desk rang, making her jump. She dropped her pen but made no move to pick up the phone.

“You going to answer that?” he asked.

“It’ll go to voicemail.” She locked her gaze with his. “Of course, if my assistant were at his desk, where he belongs, he would answer that for me.”

His laughter coaxed a smile from her.

“Hell, Dorie, it’s good to see you smile. You don’t do enough of that, at least not around me.”

“Would you quit calling me that,” she said, but her soft voice belied her harsh words.

He sat straighter. “I’ll stop calling you Dorie if you throw me a few smiles.” He stared at the lush curve of her mouth. “I was always a sucker for your smile.”

Her eyes widened.

He folded his arms across his chest and watched the play of emotions on her face. Embarrassment, awareness and apprehension all took their turns until a cool mask slipped over her features.

“If we must work together,” she said, “it will be strictly business. Is that understood?”

He gave a slight salute. “Aye, Chief. Whatever you say.”

She blushed.

“But if you ever want to take it to another level, I’m game,” he said, grinning.

She stiffened. “You have some nerve.”

He stood. “Doriana, you’re too easy. There’s no challenge in teasing you. You never used to take everything so seriously. Lighten up.”

At the startled look on her face, he laughed. The phone rang again and she reached for the receiver like a lifeline.

“Yes, Julie,” she said into the phone. “Let me check my schedule.” She opened her appointment book and scanned it. “I’m free. First floor conference room? See you then.”

She replaced the receiver and picked up the gold pen, rolling it between her fingers. Trying to calm her nerves? Logan wondered. She glanced away to stare out the large window that framed the Philadelphia skyline.

Logan studied her strong profile. Her elegant nose spoke of her Roman ancestry, passed down through her mother’s family. Only her fair skin hinted at her Irish heritage. Her Old World beauty still reached out to him. He shifted uneasily.

“All right,” she said, turning to him and drawing a deep breath. “I’m willing to work with you.” Her lips tilted in a wry smile. “I don’t have a choice as you pointed out. But there will be nothing personal between us and we will not mention the past.”  

“No problem.” He picked up the folder he had set down earlier. “There’s no reason to feel uncomfortable around each other. The past doesn’t matter.”

Her face paled. She glanced toward the table that sat under the window. He followed her gaze to the picture of her dark-haired toddler, the only photo on the long table.

“Nice looking kid,” he said. Lisa had told him Doriana had a son but had never married. She’d refused to divulge any more personal information about her boss.

Doriana sat very still, staring at the framed picture. Tension etched her mouth.

“Who’s the father?” The question slipped from him.

Her face grew chalk white. “His father is not in his life.”

When she looked at him again, sadness shadowed her eyes. Logan tamped down the crazy urge to go to her and hold her until the hurt went away.

She lifted her chin. “Nor is the father part of my life. And I would appreciate no further questions on the subject.”

“Nothing personal between us.” He tapped the folder in his hand. “I’ll get right on this.”

He felt her gaze boring into him as he walked away. Relief and anger burned through him. Relief that Doriana wasn’t tied to the man who fathered her son. He refused to question why he felt so good about that. Anger at the man who deserted her clenched his stomach. What kind of guy walked out on his own kid? A guy just like his old man, and Logan bore the scars.

* * * *

Doriana watched the door long after Logan closed it behind him. Turning slowly she stared at Josh’s picture. It wouldn’t be long before Logan found out about Josh. She’d never been good at subterfuge. Nervousness had made her draw Logan’s attention to the picture. If she continued to react like that, he’d guess she was hiding something.

By some miracle she’d managed to keep Logan a secret from her family all these years. Her humiliation that he’d walked out on her, coupled with fear that her father would hunt Logan down and hurt him, had kept her silent.

What if one of the employees let it slip that she was mother to a teenager? She had too many other worries. She couldn’t waste time on something that might never happen. And from what she remembered about Logan, he stayed to himself. He wouldn’t be fraternizing with his co-workers.

And Logan. What about him? She’d tried to ignore him all week, but her senses were on high alert every time he got near. His masculine power drew her, touching that part of her she’d suppressed all these years.

She’d never forgotten him. She couldn’t when she had a son who was a constant reminder of him every day. Josh wasn’t the only reason she’d never been able to forget Logan. No man had ever made her feel the way Logan did, made her want him so badly it hurt. Made her dream what could never be.

“No,” she groaned. She threw her pen across the room.   

~~~~

CHAPTER THREE

Logan headed for the cafeteria. He’d rather eat alone, but employee cafeterias were hotbeds of gossip. And he needed all the information he could get to solve this case and get the hell out. The sooner he put distance between himself and Doriana, the better.

He hadn’t counted on the torture of seeing her every day. He couldn’t deny that he desired her, but he also wanted to crack the shell she’d built around herself. He wanted to find the laughing, smiling young girl he’d once loved. Had he contributed to the aura of sadness that clung to her now?

He pressed the elevator button hard, as if he could pound away his thoughts. Doriana’s life was not his concern. It never had been. He punched the button again, impatient now to be around others who would distract him from Doriana.

Long ago he’d allowed himself to dream of a good life, a life with her. But the world she’d inhabited only made the ugliness of his world more unbearable. Painful memories attacked him...the nights he’d lain awake scared his dad wouldn’t come home, but more afraid that he would.

He banished the hurtful thoughts deep into his mind where they belonged.
Focus on the
mission. Nothing else matters
.

* * * *

Logan knew the minute Doriana entered the noisy cafeteria. Some sixth sense made him glance toward the doorway.

She stood there, proud and beautiful, staring at him. Their gazes locked. Awareness sizzled between them like downed power lines. Straightening her shoulders, Doriana looked away and walked slowly toward the food line, her hips swaying gracefully as she moved. Other men gave her appraising looks. Did they see the sensuality she couldn’t hide? Jealousy ripped through Logan.

“Logan, did you hear a word I said?” 

He turned his attention to the voluptuous blonde sitting next to him. “Sorry, Candi, I was distracted.”

Her bright red lips curled in a smirk and she looked around at the other women who shared their table. “We know what distracted him, don’t we, girls?”

The others giggled.

Candi leaned closer. “Forget it, Logan. You don’t stand a chance.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, pretending an indifference he didn’t feel.

Candi folded her arms across her ample chest, a smug look on her face. “I’m talking about Ms. Ice Princess, the boss’s daughter. She doesn’t date coworkers. Thinks she’s too good.  I hear she doesn’t date at all.” The blonde ran her fingers down Logan’s arm. “Doriana doesn’t know how to please a man,” she purred.

Logan shifted uncomfortably. Doriana had known how to please him all those years ago. Her wild passion had stirred him as no other woman had before or since.

Doriana didn’t date
. A small seed of hope opened in him, which he quickly squashed. Complications had no place in his life right now. He forced himself to relax and appear interested in Candi. He hated the playacting, but he needed Candi’s friendship. Gossip had it that her boyfriend was fired from Callahan Construction. And as Assistant to the Sales Director, she had access to the bids. A possible motive and the best lead he had.

He smiled at Candi and the other young women surrounding him, his lunch companions the past week. “Doriana’s not my type.” The lie stuck in his throat. “She’s my boss. I wouldn’t want people to think I slept my way to the top.”

The others laughed.

“Oh, Logan, you’re so funny,” said Karen, a petite redhead from Accounting. She stared at him with wide, long-lashed eyes.

He returned her smile, flirting a little to keep up the pretense. She blushed.

Candi sidled closer to him, staking out her claim.

He stood and glanced around the table. “Thanks for keeping me company, ladies, but I need to get back to work. Don’t want the boss mad at me.” Moans of protest followed him.

“I’ll walk to the elevator with you,” Candi said.

Logan kept a smile plastered on his face. Candi was dynamite. He trod a dangerous line with her. He wanted her trust and her confidence, but he’d never use her in any way that would hurt her. He’d figure out how to get what he needed without compromising his values.

* * * *

For the next several days, Doriana endured the sights and sounds of a constant string of females visiting Logan. The teasing banter between him and the women grated on her. She’d even quit going to the cafeteria after the day she saw him surrounded by a group of adoring women.   

“Hi, Logan, you’ll have to stop working so hard. You’ll make the rest of us look bad.”

Candi Whiting’s sultry voice drifted in from Logan’s office, making Doriana want to growl. She lifted her gaze from the report she was reading. The blonde was perched on the edge of Logan’s desk, long legs crossed. The miniskirt she wore barely covered enough to keep her decent.

The soft laughter from the other office knotted Doriana’s stomach. Candi didn’t seem Logan’s type, but what did Doriana really know about him? Maybe he was the brassy blonde’s  latest conquest. If the rumors were true, the woman had bedded, and discarded, half the men, single and married, in the company.

If Logan chose to have an affair with Candi, that was his business. Before the thought could completely formulate, jealousy slashed Doriana like a razor knife.

Damn it. She was the boss. Logan worked for her. Her annoyance had nothing to do with her feelings toward Candi. Doriana just had had enough of these constant interruptions.

“Logan,” she called. “Can you come in here please.”

“Sorry, Candi,” she heard him say. “Duty calls.”

The blonde’s mouth formed a pout as she slid seductively off the desk. Hips swinging, she walked toward the door. Glancing back, she gave Doriana a sly grin.

Logan stepped into Doriana’s office. “Yes?”

Her gaze, with a will of its own, slid slowly over him. His khakis hugged his impossibly long muscular legs and his black sweater stretched across his broad chest. No wonder half the women in the building acted like giggly teens around him.

“Doriana?”  His mouth quirked in a grin he quickly suppressed.

She caught her lower lip between her teeth, disturbed by the awareness that swelled in her every time she looked at him. Straightening, she gestured to a chair near her desk. “Please sit.”  

Logan sauntered toward her and settled into the chair. His gaze never left hers.

Doriana forced the tension from her muscles. “Your steady stream of visitors is very distracting. To me and to you. I hesitated saying anything, but it’s getting out of hand.”