heard her thoughts, Logan spoke again, his deep
voice warm in the cold night. "It's just a ride, Mandy. Nothing
more."
She jerked her head up to look at him. "Why did you
call me Mandy?"
His eyes widened a fraction. "It suits you, I
guess."
She wondered if he'd even realized he said it.
"I like Amanda." She lifted her chin.
His lips quirked upwards. "I'll try to remember that." He nodded toward the limo. "Now can
we get in the car and get everyone home tonight?"
"Fine." She tried to
stomp over to the limo, but the slippery footing foiled her. Logan's hand was
always there to catch her, and she was well aware of how cleverly she was being
maneuvered into accepting his touch.
Too bad they were going to Philadelphia in two days.
She had to be careful not to end up alone with him again.
Chapter 8
Logan ushered Amanda into their suite at the Four Seasons
Philadelphia, with a light hand on the back of her waist. This stage of the
game would be both fun and frustrating. He needed to lull her into accepting
both his presence and his touch, without losing his own patience.
"I've arranged a dinner here with the Molloys, the
owners of Daily Eats," he said, hoping to forestall any complaints from
her about sharing the suite. "They'll be here at 5:30."
She gazed at him for a long moment. "Feeling clever,
aren't you?"
"Mrs. Molloy is in a wheelchair." He was careful
to keep any smugness out of his tone. "It's easier for her if we don't
have to deal with a restaurant."
"Surely it would be easier for her if we went to their
place."
"I gave them their choice. They work out of their home
and said it would be a treat to get out."
"A hotel suite is not a professional place in which to
hold business meetings."
He shrugged, maintaining his casual approach. "Believe
it or not, I often have meetings at my hotel when traveling. It's easier for me
and it justifies the expense of renting a suite."
Amanda pressed her lips together, tightened her hold on her
rolling suitcase, and marched off to one of the bedrooms.
She was back in the living area of the suite at 5:15. On the
table in the dining area, she laid out her laptop and some brochures he'd given
her. "This is an interesting business," she said. "Why are the
Molloys selling?"
"Her illness." Logan
placed his own laptop on the table next to hers. "Multiple
sclerosis. They've lived with it for a long time, but apparently her
episodes of sickness are becoming more frequent."
Amanda nodded. "I've prepared a list of questions and
forwarded them to you."
"I saw them. Good job. Why don't you start off the
meeting?"
He was interested in seeing how she handled herself with clients.
Even though he wanted a personal relationship with her, he expected her to also
handle the professional job for which he'd hired her.
They ate the dinner provided by room service first. Amanda
single-handedly kept the conversation going, as Bill Molloy was faintly hostile
throughout the meal, and Mrs. Molloy very quiet.
Then she was equally as impressive during the after-dinner
meeting. She was professionally cordial to the Molloys, keeping an eye out for
Mrs. Molloy's comfort, while still pressing forward with the hard questions
that needed to be asked.
Logan was able to sit back and watch, interjecting an
occasional comment when necessary. This gave him more time than he wanted to
indulge his fantasies. Tonight, Amanda was wearing the same suit she'd worn on
her first interview with him. The cut did not flatter her lush figure.
Fortunately, he had a good imagination.
He pictured her dressed in the suit, minus the prim,
high-necked blouse. He could slip his hand inside her jacket, caress the
underside of her breast, and tease her a bit. He knew she'd be soft and plump
where it counted.
"What do you think, Logan?" Amanda raised her
brows, a puzzled look in her eyes, and he wondered if she'd had to repeat the
question.
"Good idea," he said, trying to focus his
attention. "What do you think?"
She
voice warm in the cold night. "It's just a ride, Mandy. Nothing
more."
She jerked her head up to look at him. "Why did you
call me Mandy?"
His eyes widened a fraction. "It suits you, I
guess."
She wondered if he'd even realized he said it.
"I like Amanda." She lifted her chin.
His lips quirked upwards. "I'll try to remember that." He nodded toward the limo. "Now can
we get in the car and get everyone home tonight?"
"Fine." She tried to
stomp over to the limo, but the slippery footing foiled her. Logan's hand was
always there to catch her, and she was well aware of how cleverly she was being
maneuvered into accepting his touch.
Too bad they were going to Philadelphia in two days.
She had to be careful not to end up alone with him again.
Chapter 8
Logan ushered Amanda into their suite at the Four Seasons
Philadelphia, with a light hand on the back of her waist. This stage of the
game would be both fun and frustrating. He needed to lull her into accepting
both his presence and his touch, without losing his own patience.
"I've arranged a dinner here with the Molloys, the
owners of Daily Eats," he said, hoping to forestall any complaints from
her about sharing the suite. "They'll be here at 5:30."
She gazed at him for a long moment. "Feeling clever,
aren't you?"
"Mrs. Molloy is in a wheelchair." He was careful
to keep any smugness out of his tone. "It's easier for her if we don't
have to deal with a restaurant."
"Surely it would be easier for her if we went to their
place."
"I gave them their choice. They work out of their home
and said it would be a treat to get out."
"A hotel suite is not a professional place in which to
hold business meetings."
He shrugged, maintaining his casual approach. "Believe
it or not, I often have meetings at my hotel when traveling. It's easier for me
and it justifies the expense of renting a suite."
Amanda pressed her lips together, tightened her hold on her
rolling suitcase, and marched off to one of the bedrooms.
She was back in the living area of the suite at 5:15. On the
table in the dining area, she laid out her laptop and some brochures he'd given
her. "This is an interesting business," she said. "Why are the
Molloys selling?"
"Her illness." Logan
placed his own laptop on the table next to hers. "Multiple
sclerosis. They've lived with it for a long time, but apparently her
episodes of sickness are becoming more frequent."
Amanda nodded. "I've prepared a list of questions and
forwarded them to you."
"I saw them. Good job. Why don't you start off the
meeting?"
He was interested in seeing how she handled herself with clients.
Even though he wanted a personal relationship with her, he expected her to also
handle the professional job for which he'd hired her.
They ate the dinner provided by room service first. Amanda
single-handedly kept the conversation going, as Bill Molloy was faintly hostile
throughout the meal, and Mrs. Molloy very quiet.
Then she was equally as impressive during the after-dinner
meeting. She was professionally cordial to the Molloys, keeping an eye out for
Mrs. Molloy's comfort, while still pressing forward with the hard questions
that needed to be asked.
Logan was able to sit back and watch, interjecting an
occasional comment when necessary. This gave him more time than he wanted to
indulge his fantasies. Tonight, Amanda was wearing the same suit she'd worn on
her first interview with him. The cut did not flatter her lush figure.
Fortunately, he had a good imagination.
He pictured her dressed in the suit, minus the prim,
high-necked blouse. He could slip his hand inside her jacket, caress the
underside of her breast, and tease her a bit. He knew she'd be soft and plump
where it counted.
"What do you think, Logan?" Amanda raised her
brows, a puzzled look in her eyes, and he wondered if she'd had to repeat the
question.
"Good idea," he said, trying to focus his
attention. "What do you think?"
She
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