discount his visit to her cottage as a crazy Yankee stunt, and not realize how sincere he’d been. He’d meant every word he’d said, but he also knew it lacked his usual finesse. For now, he’d let Tory take the lead.
“Hello, Mr. Herrington, how’s everything going?” Tory asked brightly, stopping abruptly a few feet from him. She seemed slightly apprehensive, her pleasant half-smile not quite reaching her eyes. “You play beautifully. T.L. will be so disappointed he wasn’t here. You did know that Daddy was called out of town, didn’t you?”
He nodded again without moving a muscle, uncertain whether to stand or remain on the piano stool. Keeping his hands flat on his thighs to keep from reaching for her, he tried to gauge what was happening. Tory was talking to him as if he wasn’t much older than her nephews. She stood in front of him, shifting her feet from side to side.
“I see. Well, while Daddy’s out of town, he asked me to show you around. If you’d like, some friends of mine are having a party tonight, and they’d be pleased if you’d join us,” she went on, not quite looking him in the eye. Her arms tightened around the box making its side bow out. Suddenly her shoulders sagged and she let out her breath by pushing her lower lip forward in the intriguing way she had yesterday. “Look, there isn’t an easy way around this. Do you know anything about magic?”
“I beg your pardon?” The strange question forced the words from him in an imitation of his mother’s most offended tone. Magic was the last subject he thought would come up. For a half second, he thought Tory was going to turn and walk out of the room without answering.
She gave him an exasperated look, then tossed the box down on the marble-topped table next to her. The cardboard hit the hard surface with a slap that echoed around the quiet room. “This party we’re going to tonight has a theme to it. We’ll be celebrating Harry Houdini’s birthday, so I picked up a costume for you.”
“It sounds interesting.” He hated costume parties. A bunch of grown people dressed up in ridiculous clothing and acting silly wasn’t his idea of a good time. Carefully schooling his features to show only mild inquiry, instead of his abject horror, Logan waited for her to continue.
“It does? Oh, good,” she said hesitantly, blinking owlishly at him in surprise while wiping the palms of her hands against her hips. Giving him a guarded look, she suggested, “Why don’t you go ahead and try on your costume then. We’ll see if it needs any alterations.”
It was an effort for Logan to take his eyes from Tory’s hands moving against her rounded hips and look at the box. He got to his feet, still trying to show some enthusiasm. After all, he reasoned while giving Tory a slight smile, what can be so bad about a magician’s costume? White tie and tails were fairly standard.
“There’s a half-bath under the stairs, so you don’t have to go up to your room.” Tory’s eyes never left his face as his picked up the box.
Logan headed for the hallway, but he was more than tempted to rip the box open then and there. Her agitation wasn’t from offering him a starched shirt and cummerbund. Is this her retaliation for last night? Is the tux some horrible electric blue or blood red? No matter what, he was going to wear it, whatever her intent. A Herrington never backed down.
Tory almost collapsed onto the scarlet-velvet ottoman the second Logan disappeared into the hall. His unexpected acquiescence had her completely baffled after being prepared for almost anything. The moment he turned away from the piano to stare at her with that unnerving slumberous slate-blue gaze, she almost dropped the box as her knees turned to silly putty. This favor for T.L. was probably going to turn her into a blithering idiot before Logan headed North again.
She knew she should have gotten a regulation tuxedo, but she couldn’t resist the temptation of
“Hello, Mr. Herrington, how’s everything going?” Tory asked brightly, stopping abruptly a few feet from him. She seemed slightly apprehensive, her pleasant half-smile not quite reaching her eyes. “You play beautifully. T.L. will be so disappointed he wasn’t here. You did know that Daddy was called out of town, didn’t you?”
He nodded again without moving a muscle, uncertain whether to stand or remain on the piano stool. Keeping his hands flat on his thighs to keep from reaching for her, he tried to gauge what was happening. Tory was talking to him as if he wasn’t much older than her nephews. She stood in front of him, shifting her feet from side to side.
“I see. Well, while Daddy’s out of town, he asked me to show you around. If you’d like, some friends of mine are having a party tonight, and they’d be pleased if you’d join us,” she went on, not quite looking him in the eye. Her arms tightened around the box making its side bow out. Suddenly her shoulders sagged and she let out her breath by pushing her lower lip forward in the intriguing way she had yesterday. “Look, there isn’t an easy way around this. Do you know anything about magic?”
“I beg your pardon?” The strange question forced the words from him in an imitation of his mother’s most offended tone. Magic was the last subject he thought would come up. For a half second, he thought Tory was going to turn and walk out of the room without answering.
She gave him an exasperated look, then tossed the box down on the marble-topped table next to her. The cardboard hit the hard surface with a slap that echoed around the quiet room. “This party we’re going to tonight has a theme to it. We’ll be celebrating Harry Houdini’s birthday, so I picked up a costume for you.”
“It sounds interesting.” He hated costume parties. A bunch of grown people dressed up in ridiculous clothing and acting silly wasn’t his idea of a good time. Carefully schooling his features to show only mild inquiry, instead of his abject horror, Logan waited for her to continue.
“It does? Oh, good,” she said hesitantly, blinking owlishly at him in surprise while wiping the palms of her hands against her hips. Giving him a guarded look, she suggested, “Why don’t you go ahead and try on your costume then. We’ll see if it needs any alterations.”
It was an effort for Logan to take his eyes from Tory’s hands moving against her rounded hips and look at the box. He got to his feet, still trying to show some enthusiasm. After all, he reasoned while giving Tory a slight smile, what can be so bad about a magician’s costume? White tie and tails were fairly standard.
“There’s a half-bath under the stairs, so you don’t have to go up to your room.” Tory’s eyes never left his face as his picked up the box.
Logan headed for the hallway, but he was more than tempted to rip the box open then and there. Her agitation wasn’t from offering him a starched shirt and cummerbund. Is this her retaliation for last night? Is the tux some horrible electric blue or blood red? No matter what, he was going to wear it, whatever her intent. A Herrington never backed down.
Tory almost collapsed onto the scarlet-velvet ottoman the second Logan disappeared into the hall. His unexpected acquiescence had her completely baffled after being prepared for almost anything. The moment he turned away from the piano to stare at her with that unnerving slumberous slate-blue gaze, she almost dropped the box as her knees turned to silly putty. This favor for T.L. was probably going to turn her into a blithering idiot before Logan headed North again.
She knew she should have gotten a regulation tuxedo, but she couldn’t resist the temptation of
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