Eclipse of the Heart

chapter 13

Logan tried to relax in the back of the limousine as he rode downtown to Amanda's apartment on the night of the museum benefit. The excitement buzzing through him was surprising, as he had no intention of sleeping with her tonight. He did have every expectation of frustration as he denied himself the opportunity to try to get her in his bed. He still needed to maintain his hands-off policy tonight.

Sighing, he punched the elevator button in the lobby of her building. He was determined to reel her in slowly. He saw the wariness in her eyes every time she looked at him, but also the interest. She wanted to accept the lure, but she was nervous enough to snap the line and take off if he pushed too hard.

He had no doubt that she possessed a great deal of strength and determination. It would take twice as long to win her back if she bolted once.

When Amanda opened the door, pleasure zapped him again. Her simple dress, unlike the frumpy suits she wore at work, hugged her curves in a delightful way. Mentally, he saluted Rosie.

"You didn't need to come up," she said, pulling her coat around her.

Logan's hands moved automatically to smooth the coat over her shoulders. When she lifted her hair out of the collar, her scent teased him. He had to grab hold of his control to prevent himself from leaning over and pressing his lips to the back of her neck.

She turned her key in the lock, and he touched the back of her waist to guide her to the elevator. Even through the thick wool of her coat, the touch inflamed him.

Outside the lobby, Felipe waited by the car to open the door. Logan followed her in, sliding too close to her. What had happened to his resolve to maintain a cool distance? He forced his hands to relax, and to remain in his lap.

She crossed her long legs, slanting them to one side. Did she know that drove him crazy? He glanced at her face, but she was staring out the window at the traffic rushing by. As far as he could tell, she barely knew he was sitting beside her.

The evening only deteriorated from there.

The museum buzzed with a large crowd, and Logan saw many acquaintances. These people were colleagues, more than friends. So it wasn't surprising that, as soon as he checked their coats, he saw the other men checking out Amanda. He wasn't the only one impressed with her appearance, and that presented him with an unexpected problem.

Although no one, least of all, him, discussed the nature of the companions he brought to business events, the men in his business circle were savvy guys. They all knew, at a glance, the type of woman each of them had on his arm.

His paid escorts were women who appeared out of nowhere, and disappeared without a trace when he was done with them.

They weren't somebody's college classmate, or sister, or ex-wife.

So now, these men thought Amanda was another in a long line of his hired escorts. He saw their eyes slide over her too boldly, as if she, being paid for her presence, didn't have the right to full respect. They wouldn't look at another man's wife that way. Oh, they'd check her out. But subtly. Not in the blatant manner in which they were ogling Amanda.

Logan found himself, when introducing her, emphasizing her position at his company, as if he could pound home the fact that she was a professional businesswoman. He didn't want anyone to make the wrong assumption about her.

Partly because she didn't deserve it. Partly because he knew that after he'd bedded her, and it was time to move on, she would need these contacts that she could make through him. The contacts would be worthless if his business associates thought she was his paid escort.

Although he wouldn't fire her when their association ended, he thought Amanda would not want to stick around his company when their affair had played itself out. She had too much pride.

Therefore, she would need to find another job. He was determined to help her when that time arrived.

With that in mind, he introduced her to Steve Watkins, a venture capitalist with a young firm. The kind of guy who could use someone like Amanda when she needed a job.

Watkins shook her hand, holding on a little too long. He dropped one heavy eyelid in Logan's direction. "Not quite your usual style, is she?" he said with a hearty guffaw.

Amanda stepped back like she'd been scalded.

"You're mistaken, Watkins," Logan said firmly. "Ms. Thompson is a valued employee, with a degree from the Wharton School, and several years of excellent experience."

"Sure, sure." Watkins dropped another wink. "I can be discreet. Hey, if you're done with that hot little chick you had last time I saw you, I think I'll look her up. Trixie, right?"

Logan bit back a harsh retort. Could the man be any clumsier? But a confrontation would only make the situation worse.

"Like I said, you're mistaken. And I happen to know that Trixie is only interested in intelligent men." Touching Amanda's arm, Logan turned her away. "Please excuse us."

He dropped his hand from her arm abruptly. He had to stop touching her in public. Such personal behavior would only encourage people to think she was his mistress.

Biting back a curse, he moved several inches away from her. All the effort he'd put into subtly getting her used to his touch was going to be wasted.

She looked at the space that had opened between them, and then raised her eyes to his. "A change in tactics?"

"I don't want them to think you're…what you're not."

"They all think I'm a hooker." She pressed her lips together.

"Not you."

"Then who?"

"My companion. Any attractive woman who is with me." The words ate into him, biting him with the ugliness of what he'd done. He'd conditioned people to believe that any woman who was with him was a whore.

"You never dated—regular women?"

"I told you. I don't date, and I don't do relationships." Despite everything, he needed to be clear on that. No matter how badly he desired her, he wouldn't lie to get what he wanted. When she came to his bed, she would do so in the full knowledge that it was only sex between them.

"I don't have any trouble believing you don't do relationships, Logan." She gestured to the room full of people. "Clearly, you've convinced the world of that, as well."

That couldn't be helped. He was unable to feel emotions. He refused to feel emotions. Therefore, it was only fair of him to make sure that women in his company understood that.

He had also learned that women would pursue him for his financial success, regardless of whether he could feel anything for them. Or whether they, in fact, had any feelings for him.

So he was doubly cautious. It was better all around if he treated sex like any other commodity. An arms-length transaction, where each party knew exactly what he or she was getting. Or not getting.

He caught the eye of a waiter who promptly approached them with a tray of sushi. Right behind him was another distraction. Logan was grateful for the reprieve.

"Hey, there's someone I want you to meet." He waved over a petite blonde dressed in a fire-engine red suit. She click-clacked toward them in a pair of tall heels that barely brought her to average height.

"Amanda," he said, "I'd like you to meet Patrice Collins. Patrice, this is Amanda Thompson. She has the job you used to have."

At his side, Amanda made a funny noise, like a smothered gasp, and Logan knew instantly that Amanda thought Patrice was someone who'd shared his bed.

"Director of Entrepreneurial Ventures," he injected smoothly. "Patrice, Amanda is taking to the job as well as you did."

Patrice looked at Amanda, her blue eyes hostile. She did not extend her hand. "Lovely." The single word dropped into the conversational pool and sank like a stone. She turned her gaze to Logan.

"Will you be attending the Cabot's Christmas Ball next weekend?"

Logan nodded, but refused to be drawn into a topic that was designed to exclude Amanda.

"We've been looking at a company you investigated a few years back," he said. "Daily Eats."

Patrice sniffed. "You must have forgotten that I told you it was a dog of a company. Surely no one would recommend buying them?" She glanced at Amanda with barely tinged contempt.

"They have an excellent cash flow, a strong strategic direction, and good management," Amanda said coolly. "Perhaps the situation has changed since you looked at them."

Amanda raised her chin, and the coolness in her tone suggested that Patrice had failed to adequately assess the company.

Logan had to press his lips together to hide a smile.

"Patrice," he said, "I'm sure you recall they weren't interested in selling a few years ago. Now they are. Different circumstances make them more appealing today."

Patrice's nostrils pinched with displeasure. "I see my husband over there." She emphasized the word 'husband', as if she wanted to point out the difference between her and Amanda.

Logan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He should have remembered that Patrice had once made a pass at him. Apparently, he hadn't steered her away as diplomatically as he'd thought.

"I need to discuss something with him." Patrice tottered off.

"Ick." Amanda shook her head. "I don't think I'd like being a paid companion."

"Patrice never was, as far as I know."

"Maybe that's why she was so unpleasant, then."

Logan looked down at her, raising his brows. Did she realize she sounded almost—jealous? He'd seen too many catfights not to recognize the signs. But he hoped he was mistaken tonight, because he didn't want Amanda to start developing feelings for him.

"I think we should call it a night," he said, automatically reaching for her, before he remembered the 'no touching' rule and pulled back. Damn, this was going to be difficult.

"Good," Amanda answered. "If you're sure you don't need to stay."

They started toward the exit. "Don't worry about it," he said. "I only come to these events so they'll come to mine. It's all a revolving door."

"I'm surprised you have charities you feel that strongly about supporting."

He made a show of feeling around in his pockets for the coat check, even though he knew exactly where it was. He didn't want to look at her.

"I have a few causes that are near and dear." His tone wasn't as light as he'd been aiming for, but it would have to do.

He would never, ever, talk about the Juilliard music scholarship fund he'd established in his sister's name.

They walked out into a light rain. His black limo idled at the curb. Felipe exited the car to open the door. But before they reached him, a man walking along the sidewalk, his head down to avoid the rain, cut them off.

Logan put an arm around Amanda to steer her out of the way. He felt her stiffen. "Jamie?" she said.

The man looked up and broke into a huge smile. "Amanda Thompson, what are you doing here?"

"We've just been to the exhibit." She waved at the doors behind them. "But what are you doing in New York? Last I heard you were living in London."

"Got transferred back." His eyes slid over toward Logan, as if wondering who he was.

"Sorry." Amanda laughed. "Jamie, this is my boss, Logan Winter. Logan, Jamie Boudreau."

They shook hands, and Logan tried to ignore the annoyance he felt at being introduced as her boss. Really, that's exactly what he was.

"Amanda and I were just leaving," he said. "Nice to meet you."

Amanda hesitated, and then rushed into speech. "Are you free to get a cup of coffee, Jamie?"

"Sure! Love to catch up."

"That's good." She turned to Logan with a bright smile. "There's no need for you to take me home, then. But thanks for the networking opportunity tonight."

Logan knew he could turn this around in a heartbeat. But he saw the anger in the back of her eyes and, he had to admit, she was entitled to feel it. He had nothing to gain by forcing the issue, and plenty to lose if he overplayed his hand.

"Good night, then." He couldn't resist pulling her close with one arm and placing a quick kiss on her forehead. Let Jamie make of that what he would.

When he let her go, Amanda's eyes snapped at him. But she wouldn't make a scene over something so small. The best she could do was to tuck her hand through Jamie's arm and stroll off with him.

Logan was surprised how much the sight annoyed him.