The One That Got Away (3 page)

‘He’s the one, isn’t he?’ said Max. ‘The one who ruined you for
all other men.’

‘I’m thinking
ruined
is too strong
a word,’ said Evie. ‘I was definitely exaggerating and possibly maudlin when I
mentioned that to you. I’m not ruined. I don’t feel ruined. Do I look
ruined?’

Max took his time looking her over.

‘You look flustered,’ he said grimly. ‘You never get
flustered.’

‘Not true. C’mon, Max. I had a fling with a man called Logan
Black more than ten years ago. Five minutes ago you introduced him to me as your
brother. I’m calling that one fluster-worthy.’ Heat flooded Evie’s cheeks and
distress fuelled her temper. ‘I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry my past has come back
into play. It was a pretty tepid past.’ With one notable exception. ‘It doesn’t
have to impact the present.’

‘It just did.’

Hard to argue with that.

‘Do you still want him?’ asked Max.

‘No.’ And as if saying it louder would somehow make it true,
‘NO.’

‘Because he sure as hell still wants you.’

‘If your brother had wanted me, Max, he’d have found me. That
much I do remember about him.’

But Max just shook his head and ran his hands through his hair.
He didn’t look much like Logan except for his dark hair and olive skin. Their
features were quite different. Their mannerisms not similar at all. No way she
could have known...

‘I can’t believe he even told you,’ she muttered. ‘Why would he
do
that? What could he possibly hope to gain?
Does he not like you? Is that it?’

‘We get on well enough,’ said Max.

‘Then
why
?’

‘Maybe he thought you were going to say something.’

‘Yeah, well, he got that wrong.’

Max cut her a level glance. ‘Honesty not really your strong
suit these days, is it?’

‘Or yours,’ she snapped back. ‘You said you had a brother—I
thought
I’d be meeting Logan Carmichael. You
never told me you had a half-brother named Logan
Black
,’ she said as her legs threatened to fold and she sat herself
down on the day-bed.
Think, Evie. Think.
But her
mind had left the building the moment she’d set eyes on Logan, and it hadn’t yet
returned. ‘Your mother’s hosting a cocktail party in our honour in just over
seven hours,’ she said, and put her head to her hands and the heels of her hands
to her eyes and pressed down hard. ‘What’s the plan here? What do you want to
do? Because I can go find her and apologise and tell her the engagement’s off,
if that’s what you want.’

‘Evie—’

‘Or we could put in an order for a time machine. I could go
back in time, find your
half
-brother and spurn his
advances. Failing that, I could at least wring his neck afterwards. That’d work
too.’

‘Evie—’

‘Because after that I’m fresh out of ideas, Max. I don’t know
how to fix this without making even more of a mess.’ Evie’s throat felt tight,
her eyes started stinging. ‘I didn’t know. I
didn’t
know he was your brother. I would
never...
If I’d
known. The business....
God.
’

The horror in Logan’s eyes that last time they’d been together
when she’d cut her head on the too-sharp table leg. The trembling in his hands,
the fear and self-loathing in his eyes. He’d taken her to the hospital and by
the time they’d arrived Logan had pulled himself together, standing silent and
sombre by her side until the nurses had asked him to wait outside.

‘There’s no problem here,’ she’d told concerned nurses firmly.
‘None.’

But they’d given her a business card and on it had been a
number to call and she’d shoved it in her handbag rather than argue with them
any more.

Logan had taken her home and she’d known something was wrong
but she hadn’t been able to reach him. ‘Logan, it was an accident,’ she’d told
him as he’d walked her to her door. ‘You
know
that,
right?’ And she’d thought he was going to reach for her then and make everything
all right, only he’d shoved his hands in his pockets instead and nodded and
looked away.

Last words she’d ever said to him, because the following day
Logan Black was gone from her life as if he’d never existed.

‘God,’ she whispered.

And then Max’s hands were circling her wrists and he was
crouching before her and pulling her hands away from her face. ‘Hey,’ he said
gently. ‘Drama queen. Don’t go to pieces on me now. We can fix this.’

‘How?’

‘We just have to know what everybody’s intentions are, that’s
all. Yours. Mine. Logan’s. Because I’ll stand aside if I have to, Evie, but only
if there’s a damn good reason for doing so.’

‘That I slept with your brother isn’t good enough?’

‘Well, it’s not ideal...’ Droll, this fake fiancé of hers, when
he wanted to be. ‘But I’ve got fifty million good reasons to get over it.
Question is, can you and Logan? You need to talk to him, Evie.’

‘We just did. You were there. It didn’t go well.’

‘You need to talk to him
again
. In
private. Minus the element of surprise.’

‘I really don’t.’

‘How else are you going to know if you’re over him?’

‘I’m over him.’

‘Yeah. And he’s over you. That’s why he’s downstairs mainlining
Scotch and you’re up here falling apart.’

‘He’s mainlining what?’

‘Says the voice of disinterest. Corner him after lunch. Let him
corner you.’

‘He thinks we’re getting
married
,
Max. He’s not going to come anywhere near me.’

‘I think you might be underestimating the effect you have on
him, Evie. Besides, he knows this is a marriage of convenience.’

‘He
what?’
Evie was having trouble
keeping up with who knew what. ‘How?’

‘I may have mentioned it. Before he mentioned knowing you. He
was concerned for me. Or possibly for you. Not sure which. He asked me straight
whether our marriage was to be one of convenience.’

‘You
told
him? What happened to the
game plan? The “I want to pretend it’s real in front of my family” plan?’

Max had the grace to look discomfited. ‘Couldn’t do it,’ he
said finally.

‘You are the worst. Liar. Ever.’

‘Yes, well, now we know that.’ Max was getting surly, a sure
sign that he’d been caught wrong-footed. ‘Look, I’ll go and beard my mother,
tell her what’s going on. But you have to talk to Logan and find out what he
wants. What
you
want. See if you can imagine him as
your brother-in-law.’

She really couldn’t.

‘Just talk to the man, Evie.’

‘Okay,’ she said. ‘
Okay.
But if I
need saving, you’d better come save me.’

‘I will.’

‘And I’m still your business partner.’

‘I know.’ Max eyed her steadily. ‘That’s not up for
renegotiation, regardless of what happens with the engagement.’

‘You hold that thought,’ Evie said doggedly. ‘No matter what
Logan tells you, you hold that thought.’

TWO

Evie came back downstairs five minutes later, hoping to
find everyone already gathered for lunch, but there was only Logan, with his
back towards her as he stared out at the garden beyond. Evie paused in the
doorway, not ready for this confrontation, dead scared of this particular ghost,
but he turned and there was nothing for it but to take a breath, straighten her
shoulders and move forward. ‘Where are the others?’

‘Down in the cellar, choosing a bottle of wine,’ said Logan.
‘They were discussing the merits of marriages of convenience along the way. They
could be a while.’

‘Oh.’ Happy conversations all round. And where to begin with
Logan? ‘I knew Max had a brother called Logan,’ she said awkwardly. ‘I didn’t
know it was you.’

‘Fair enough. Now you do.’

His voice. How could she have forgotten that voice?

‘What do you want from me, Logan?’

‘You,’ he said, and Evie’s breath hitched. ‘Gone.’

‘We leave on Sunday.’

‘From my life.’

‘As far as I can be.’

‘It won’t be far enough, Angie. Not if you marry my brother.
Not if you stay in business with him.’

‘I’m not Angie,’ she said with quiet firmness as thick black
lashes came down to shield Logan’s eyes. ‘I grew up after you left me. I
finished my studies and went to work on site in the construction business. I
learned how to stand my ground. People call me Evie now. Evangeline when they’re
cross.’

‘And is my brother cross with you, Evangeline?’ Logan’s black
gaze swept up and over her, searing her. Lingering just a little too long on her
hairline and the fringe that hid the faintest trace of an old, old scar.

‘It’s hard to say. What do you want from me, Logan? You didn’t
have to tell Max you’d bedded me. It’s been ten years. More. Why didn’t you
leave that memory in the past where it belongs?’

He didn’t answer her, just moved towards the drinks sideboard
and poured clear liquid from a jug into two highball glasses. ‘It’s just water,’
he said. ‘Want one?’

‘Thank you.’

So he picked them up and came over to her, and wasn’t
that
a bad idea? Because now she could smell him and
it was a scent that had haunted her, and now she could see the faint stubble on
his jaw and the fine lines etched into his face. Older now, and wiser. Less
inclined towards a smile.

He had a heartbreaker’s smile when he chose to use it.

He held the glass out towards her and she stared at it and the
strong, long fingers that held it. Go find out what he wants, had been Max’s
directive. Find out what you want.

So she reached for the water and deliberately brushed her
fingers against Logan’s in search of the fire that had once poured over her at
his touch.

And came away scalded.

One sip of cool water and then another as she held Logan’s gaze
and fought that feeling of helplessness.

‘The trouble with memories like ours,’ he said roughly, ‘is
that you think you’ve buried them, dealt with them, right up until they reach up
and rip out your throat.’

Some memories were like that. But not all. Sometimes memories
could be finessed into something slightly more palatable.

‘Maybe we could try replacing the bad with something a little
less intense,’ she suggested tentatively. ‘You could try treating me as your
future sister-in-law. We could do polite, and civil. We could come to like it
that way.’

‘Watching you hang off my brother’s arm doesn’t make me feel
civilised, Evangeline. It makes me want to break things.’

Ah.

‘Call off the engagement.’ He wasn’t looking at her. And it
wasn’t a request. ‘Turn this mess around.’

‘We need Max’s trust-fund money.’

‘I’ll cover Max for the money. I’ll buy you out.’

‘What?’ Anger slid through her, hot and biting. She could feel
her composure slipping away but there was nothing else for it. Not in the face
of the hot mess that was Logan. ‘No,’ she said as steadily as she could. ‘No
one’s buying me out of anything, least of all MEP. That company is
mine
, just as much as it is Max’s. I’ve put six years
into it, eighty-hour weeks’ worth of blood, sweat, tears and fears into making
it the success it is. Prepping it for bigger opportunities and one of those
opportunities is just around the corner. Why on earth would I let you buy me
out?’

He meant to use his big body to intimidate her. Closer, and
closer still, until the jacket of his suit brushed the silk of her dress but he
didn’t touch her, just let the heat build. His lips had that hard sensual curve
about them that had haunted her dreams for years. She couldn’t stop staring at
them.

She needed to stop staring at them.

‘You can’t be in my life, Evangeline. Not even on the
periphery. I discovered that the hard way ten years ago. So either you leave
willingly...or I make you leave.’

‘Couldn’t we just—’

‘No.’ And then he leaned forward and brushed his lower lip
against the curve of hers, and she closed her eyes and tried to pretend that her
response didn’t belong to her. That the thrill of pleasure that screamed through
her belonged to someone else and that the hint of whisky on his lips wasn’t
intoxicating.

‘You can’t marry my brother, Angie. Don’t even
think
it,’ he murmured against her lips, and brought
his hands up to cradle her face, and they were gentle but the tongue that
stroked the seam of her mouth open was not, and the kiss that followed was not.
The kiss spoke of ownership and anger and a helplessness that Evie knew all too
well.

Logan’s fingers tangled in her hair as he tilted her head back
for better access to her mouth and the kiss continued. Not tentative. What Logan
wanted, he took—that was just his nature, but the way he took it...oh...the
sensual way he feasted... She’d never forgotten how deeply his enjoyment of sex
had run. A pleasure seeker without equal. Giving it. Taking it. Owning it.

And then he drew back, breathing hard, and wiped the shine from
her lips with his thumb, and his breath hitched and Evie plain forgot to breathe
at all.

But she could still move, and she needed to move before Max and
his mother returned, and there was something else she needed to know as well, so
she wrapped her hand around his wrist and dug her nails into the vein, and
watched for that tiny flare of pain and what he would do with it. Whether he’d
resist it or chase it, and the increased pressure of his thumb crushing her lips
into her teeth said chase and chase hard, but the curse that fell from his lips
told of a resistance that ran equally deep.

Still fighting his own nature, then. Still that mad mix of
sybarite and saint.

‘You have to go,’ he said.

He wasn’t begging. Logan Black did not beg. But it was
close.

‘You hate it, don’t you?’ she murmured. ‘What I make you want.
What I make you feel. You’ve always hated it.’

‘Yes.’

‘Was that why the only place you made for me was on my knees in
front of you?’

‘Not
only
on your knees,’ he
offered roughly. ‘I might be on mine.’

Which didn’t help.

‘Break the engagement, Angie. Find a way out of my brother’s
business and go far, far away.
Stay
away,’ he said
and abruptly let her go, moving back a step or two for good measure.

‘And then what?’

‘And then nothing.’

‘Being left with nothing doesn’t suit me these days, Logan.’
Evie kept her voice steady and her back straight. No way he could know how her
legs trembled and her heart thudded against her ribcage in the aftermath of his
touch. ‘I’m not the person you once knew. I’m stronger now. I’m a fighter now
and I know what I want. The answer’s no.’

* * *

‘So,’ said Caroline Carmichael as she swept into the
room, with Max behind her brandishing a bottle of champagne in one hand and a
bottle of white in the other. Evie stood on one side of the room, Logan on the
other, and Caroline noted the distance between them, and probably the flush on
Evie’s face, with measuring eyes. ‘Max mentioned we have a slight problem on our
hands. I trust everything’s been sorted?’

Logan said nothing. Instead, he let the silence stretch so thin
you could see through it to the turmoil below.

‘Well, one could hope,’ said Caroline dryly. ‘Do sit down to
lunch, everyone. I, for one, can’t problem-solve on an empty stomach. And make
no mistake, this problem does need solving.’ She eyed her eldest son sternly.
‘Or would you prefer a fractured family?’

Logan’s havoc-wreaking mouth was a thin, grim line, but he
pulled out his mother’s chair and saw her seated.

‘Max, you’ll pour?’ said the widow Carmichael and Evie caught a
glimpse of the iron will behind the amiable mask.

Max cracked the white and filled his mother’s glass and then
Evie’s. ‘You want me to get the Scotch?’ he asked his brother.

‘I’m done with the Scotch,’ said Logan. ‘Scotch is for shock.’
So Max filled Logan’s wine glass with the pale, straw-coloured chardonnay too,
and then his own.

So civilised.

They filled their plates in silence. Evie had never felt less
like eating. And then Caroline looked across the table at Evie and said mildly,
‘I hear you and Logan have met before.’

‘Yes.’ As Evie fought a blush and lost. ‘It was a long time
ago.’

‘I heard that too,’ said Caroline, and lapsed into silence
while Evie sliced a spear of asparagus into half a dozen little pieces.

‘It seems to me,’ continued Caroline, ‘that if you want this
farce of a marriage to Max to continue, the best course of action would be to
forget you and Logan ever met.’

‘Yes,’ murmured Evie. ‘I thought that too.’ Twelve tiny chunks
of asparagus on her plate now, all lined up to make the whole. Very orderly.

‘Logan?’ said Max, and Evie looked up. No mistaking the
question in Max’s eyes or the resistance in Logan’s.

‘Or you can call off your engagement, I buy Evie out of your
business and finance you until your trust fund comes in,’ Logan told Max
curtly.

‘And where would that leave Evie?’ asked Max.

‘Gone.’

Why was there always a part of her that agreed with Logan?
Why?

‘I’m right here,’ she said tightly. ‘No need to talk around me.
And you can have my share of MEP when I’m dead, Logan. I thought I made that
clear. MEP is mine just as much as it is Max’s and I will not give it up. Not to
you. Not to anyone.’

‘No one’s saying you have to give it up,’ said Max soothingly.
‘No one but Logan’s saying you have to give it up.’

Evie reached for her wine glass, only to change her mind before
her fingers reached the glass. Her hands were too shaky; now was not a good time
for alcohol.

‘I think it’s a
very
good time for
alcohol,’ murmured Logan, as if reading her mind.

‘I’m not you,’ she bit back.

‘They can’t even be in the same room with each other,’ said Max
to his mother.

‘So I see,’ murmured Caroline. ‘Logan, I do think you’re being
a touch unreasonable,’ she offered, before turning back to Evie. ‘It’s his
father’s fault. My first husband was utterly vulnerable to his emotions once
they were roused. It used to scare him witless too.’

Only a mother could have that take on this situation. ‘Logan
doesn’t strike me as particularly vulnerable, Mrs Carmichael.’

‘Please, call me Caroline. I insist.’ Caroline turned to Max.
‘Do you
have
to have access your trust-fund money
now?’

‘We need ten million dollars to kick off the civic centre
build, and they want to see our financials,’ said Max. ‘We’ve already explored
several other avenues of financial backing. They weren’t attractive.’ Max
speared Logan with a level gaze. ‘Make us an offer that’s attractive and Evie
and I won’t need to get married.’

‘I just made it,’ said Logan.

‘Then the answer’s no,’ said Max with a tight shrug. ‘When it
comes to my marital status, I’m prepared to humour you. When it comes to MEP,
Evie’s an integral part of it. She stays.’

Impasse.

‘Why so much float money?’ asked Caroline finally. ‘I don’t
know much about the construction industry, but it seems excessive.’

‘Because we don’t receive first payment until we’re out of the
ground on this one,’ said Evie. ‘It’s a common enough clause in building
contracts. But most of the foundation work for this particular build will have
to be done underwater. Makes it expensive.’

‘Sounds like you’re out of your league,’ said Logan.

‘No, just our price range,’ said Evie.

‘Then get your client to advance you the funding for stage
one.’

‘They won’t.’

‘Then find another client.’

‘You’re right.’ Evie eyed Logan steadily. ‘Would you like us to
build
you
an innovative, high-profile civic
centre?’

‘I wouldn’t employ you to build me a bookshelf.’

‘What do you think she
did
to him
all those years ago?’ Max asked his mother, dividing his gaze between her and
Logan warily. ‘He’s not usually this intractable.’

‘You should have seen him as an infant,’ said Caroline. ‘He
could be extremely recalcitrant if he didn’t get his way. I like to think I
nudged it out of him. Perhaps not.’

‘I’m right here,’ said Logan, between gritted teeth. ‘No need
to talk around me.’

His mother studied Logan with sympathetic eyes. Max just
studied him, and then, as if judging a walnut that would not be cracked, Max
turned to Evie.

‘So what’d you do to him?’ asked Max. ‘Did you reject him?’

‘No,’ said Evie quietly. ‘I did everything your brother asked
of me.’

‘Never a good move,’ said Caroline gently, and Evie shrugged
and returned the older woman’s gaze and thought she saw a glimmer of
understanding.

‘I’m still not seeing the reason for the extreme hostility,’
said Max. ‘You haven’t seen each other in years. You were together for one week
and then you parted ways. How bad can it be?’