mom. I can’t bear to lose him too . For one moment, grief and terror overwhelmed her. If Logan was sitting here, I’d grab him, race to Vegas and marriage just to make Dad happy. The thought made her smile. Logan was too wily for anyone to rush into marriage. He’d been avoiding that particular trap for years. And there’d been plenty set for him too. Lucky for both of them, marriage wasn’t high priority. Though she might reconsider a quick roll in bed with him. Just remembering that sexually-charged moment between them had her squirming in her seat.
Caroline came back in, holding her grandpa’s hand, distracting Kendall from thoughts of dark sheets and smoky candles.
“Goodnight, Mommy.”
“Goodnight, baby.” She gave her daughter a quick hug and kissed the tousled silken strands on top of her head. “Sleep tight.”
“Don’t let the bed bugs bite,” her daughter replied.
Kendall giggled. She watched the two people, who besides her mom were the most important beings in her world, walk out of the room. She stood up, stretched and began picking up.
Her dad ambled back in. He grabbed the glasses and followed her as she took the empty pizza container to the trash can in the kitchen. “I can see why Logan’s such a good writer.”
“What makes you think so?” She paused, her hand hovering above the trash can, curious.
“He acts like he hasn’t a care in the world. Doesn’t appear to pay attention to anything, all the while he’s watching everything.”
She shoved the cardboard box into the receptacle. “Oh yeah, he’s observant and too smart for his own good.” And mine.
“He can play a mean game of poker too.” Her dad set the glasses on the counter.
“Caroline beat him.”
“He let her.”
She whirled around. “What?”
“Yeah, I watched him palm an ace. He let her win.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
“His heart’s in the right place. I noticed he didn’t pull those tricks on you or me.”
“Good thing.”
“Good thing is right. Want to watch that police show you’re so fond of?”
“Sure.” Arm in arm, they strolled into the living room. Ten minutes into the program her dad was snoring softly. Kendall stared at the screen wondering just what she was going to do about her wily employer.
~*~
Logan sat sprawled on his couch, mindlessly channel surfing. He glanced at his clock—three a.m.—gave up any hope of sleep and decided to work on his manuscript.
Unfortunately, when he walked into his study he was blindsided by Kendall’s elusive fragrance. He raked his fingers through his hair. God, the woman gave him no peace. She was both enigmatic and enchantress. Behind that demure facade lurked a mystery woman who gave off the sensual appeal of a tigress. How could he have worked with her for three years and not realized her allure?
Jittery, he paced. The phone rang. Who would be calling at this hour?
“Hello.”
“Logan?” Laughter and music in the background suggested a party.
“Who is this?”
“It’s me, Cindy.”
Memory kicked in. Petite brunette, liked to party.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m great.”
He glanced at the clock. “What can I do for you?”
“Why not come over and I’ll show you,” she purred, though the purr sounded slightly slurred.
“Do you know what time it is?”
“No.”
“Goodnight, Cindy.” He clicked off and shook his head, grinning. Good ole Cindy. While it was a tempting offer, a gentleman didn’t take advantage of a drunken woman.
His attention returned to his willowy assistant. Until recently he’d known nothing about her. Didn’t know she had a daughter—most mothers bored you to tears with pictures of their offspring for Christ’s sake—and was led to believe she had a husband.
The woman was smoke and mirrors. Either that or a pathological liar. Maybe both. She loved her family, was fiercely loyal to them. He assumed the mother had died since her dad lived with her.
He took a
Caroline came back in, holding her grandpa’s hand, distracting Kendall from thoughts of dark sheets and smoky candles.
“Goodnight, Mommy.”
“Goodnight, baby.” She gave her daughter a quick hug and kissed the tousled silken strands on top of her head. “Sleep tight.”
“Don’t let the bed bugs bite,” her daughter replied.
Kendall giggled. She watched the two people, who besides her mom were the most important beings in her world, walk out of the room. She stood up, stretched and began picking up.
Her dad ambled back in. He grabbed the glasses and followed her as she took the empty pizza container to the trash can in the kitchen. “I can see why Logan’s such a good writer.”
“What makes you think so?” She paused, her hand hovering above the trash can, curious.
“He acts like he hasn’t a care in the world. Doesn’t appear to pay attention to anything, all the while he’s watching everything.”
She shoved the cardboard box into the receptacle. “Oh yeah, he’s observant and too smart for his own good.” And mine.
“He can play a mean game of poker too.” Her dad set the glasses on the counter.
“Caroline beat him.”
“He let her.”
She whirled around. “What?”
“Yeah, I watched him palm an ace. He let her win.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
“His heart’s in the right place. I noticed he didn’t pull those tricks on you or me.”
“Good thing.”
“Good thing is right. Want to watch that police show you’re so fond of?”
“Sure.” Arm in arm, they strolled into the living room. Ten minutes into the program her dad was snoring softly. Kendall stared at the screen wondering just what she was going to do about her wily employer.
~*~
Logan sat sprawled on his couch, mindlessly channel surfing. He glanced at his clock—three a.m.—gave up any hope of sleep and decided to work on his manuscript.
Unfortunately, when he walked into his study he was blindsided by Kendall’s elusive fragrance. He raked his fingers through his hair. God, the woman gave him no peace. She was both enigmatic and enchantress. Behind that demure facade lurked a mystery woman who gave off the sensual appeal of a tigress. How could he have worked with her for three years and not realized her allure?
Jittery, he paced. The phone rang. Who would be calling at this hour?
“Hello.”
“Logan?” Laughter and music in the background suggested a party.
“Who is this?”
“It’s me, Cindy.”
Memory kicked in. Petite brunette, liked to party.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m great.”
He glanced at the clock. “What can I do for you?”
“Why not come over and I’ll show you,” she purred, though the purr sounded slightly slurred.
“Do you know what time it is?”
“No.”
“Goodnight, Cindy.” He clicked off and shook his head, grinning. Good ole Cindy. While it was a tempting offer, a gentleman didn’t take advantage of a drunken woman.
His attention returned to his willowy assistant. Until recently he’d known nothing about her. Didn’t know she had a daughter—most mothers bored you to tears with pictures of their offspring for Christ’s sake—and was led to believe she had a husband.
The woman was smoke and mirrors. Either that or a pathological liar. Maybe both. She loved her family, was fiercely loyal to them. He assumed the mother had died since her dad lived with her.
He took a
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