Heart of Steel

Chapter 2

Sunlight poured through the oversize bay windows of the Yoga and Arts Center and enveloped Chandler in a warm, hazy glow. She breathed deep as the soothing strains of a flute drifted in the air. Her name echoed from the distance but she ignored the sound. She floated in a calm, peaceful state of mind, and knew the moment she opened her eyes reality would intrude. As she slowly brought herself back from her meditation, she became aware of the cool, smooth wood beneath the soles of her bare feet. Her unbound hair fanned out on the mat around her and absorbed the heat of the sun. When the voice became more insistent, she opened her eyes and eased herself up.

Harrison Edward Weston III rushed through the door and stopped short. “Oh! Sorry, Chandler, I didn’t know you were meditating.”

“Don’t worry, I was just finishing up.” She rose to her feet and walked to the end of her studio to flip off the CD player. “I need to go over the contract with you, anyway. I want to be prepared for my dinner with Logan Grant.”

Harry trailed behind her. His tone held a worried note. “I shouldn’t have let you handle the meeting alone. I’m your lawyer, it’s my responsibility to protect your interests.”

Chandler hid a smile. Ever since she’d met Harry in the sixth grade, she’d looked out for him. Being a year older, she treated him as the younger brother she’d never had, and throughout the years a close friendship evolved, bordering on family affection.

Harry’s father still worked in the law firm which handled Alexander Santell’s legal matters. They’d often laugh as they reminisced about their common backgrounds, since both of them had been raised in their fathers’ offices. After he failed the bar exam, Harry left his father’s firm to work as a legal assistant, vowing to achieve success on his own. Her heart broke each time he failed, but she admired the determination her friend showed, swearing he wouldn’t quit until he passed the bar.

The mirror on the far wall of her studio reflected an image of a man to be trusted. His curly, dark hair and warm brown eyes drew women toward him, and his friendly smile helped build him a solid base of clients. His five foot six frame bubbled over with energy, and she always had trouble trying to get him to relax and focus on the task at hand. She enjoyed Harry’s company, and relaxed in his presence. With Harry she never worried about any hidden intentions.

Chandler led him toward her back office and watched him sink into the worn cushions of the tattered mauve sofa. “Maybe I should go to dinner with you and Grant.” Harry opened his briefcase with a frown. “What if he tries to put one over on you?”

She leaned against the edge of the desk and sighed. “No, I’ll be okay. This dinner meeting is a way for him to learn my weaknesses. It’s a familiar tactic I learned in the corporate world.”

Harry chuckled. “I almost feel sorry for him if he thinks he can intimidate you. Beneath your gentle image lies a mighty core. Four years ago, you were prepared to enter your father’s corporation and marry his right-hand man. Your whole future was planned. And at the last minute you left everything behind to take the time to find yourself. You’ve got guts.”

She smiled. Harry understood what it took for her to walk away from everything she thought she wanted. Her disciplines of yoga and meditation helped, strengthening both her body and mind. But late at night, she still heard her father’s taunting words the day she walked into his office and found her entire life changed.

She shook off her disturbing thoughts and poured a cup of herbal tea. The hot liquid slid down her throat with ease. “Logan will help me keep my business. I guarantee him his investment. We both get what we want.”

“The escape clause was a mistake. You never discussed the option with me.”

“You know I’m desperate. Logan behaved oddly, too. After I offered him a full reimbursement, he acted angry. Almost as if he cared about what happened to my studio.”

Harry gave a snort. “Grant doesn’t care about people. He cares about money.”

“Yeah, you’re right. His lawyer seemed nice, though. His name is Richard Thorne, and he actually studies yoga.”

Harry lifted one brow. “An attorney of Grant’s doing yoga? That’s a new one.” He studied her face thoughtfully. “What did you think of him?”

“He’s nice. Not like Logan at all. He seemed more, well, light-hearted. Non-threatening.”

“Hmmm. Just your type.”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

“Yeah, you need a date.”

“Harry, you’re so subtle.”

“It’s been too long since you had a man in your life. A lawyer who’s interested in yoga is a rarity these days. Go for it.”

“Thanks for the advice, but I’m not jumping into anything. I’m content with my life, and men make things complicated. Besides, he works for Logan. He wanted to draw up the contracts but I told them I’d use my own lawyer.”

“Good move. I’ll add a clause so you can break the arrangement within six months if you think the program won’t work. I want you both on equal footing.” He grimaced as he took a sip of the herbal tea she handed him. “Damn, don’t you have any coffee in this place?”

“Too much caffeine isn’t good for you. Besides, this tea contains antioxidants.”

“I’d rather die happy. This stuff tastes terrible.” He put the mug back down. “How will you manage the extra workload?

“Linda will handle the bulk, but I’ll have to cut back on some classes temporarily. If this deal works out I can hire new instructors and expand without a deficit. This contract is the start of a whole new future. Can you imagine how many new students I could teach? I can renovate the building, and get that soft lighting we talked about, and new mats and—”

“What if the deal falls through?”

She raised her chin. “The deal will go through. I’ll prove to Logan this is the best program he ever invested in.”

Harry shook his head. “No offense, but I can’t believe he agreed. Can you picture the ‘man of steel’ trying to relax and clear his mind?”

“I know. I bet half of his work force suffers from ulcers.”

Harry chuckled. “Those finance boys won’t know what hit them. I bet after a month of your classes they’ll watch what they eat and breathe deeply in stressful situations.”

Chandler laughed. “I hope you’re right. But the first executive I need to impress is the man picking me up in a couple of hours.” She glanced at her watch. “I have to get home and change. I’m sure at exactly seven he’ll show up at the door in the usual suit and tie.”

Harry went over a few details he added to the contract. “Are you wearing the itchy suit?” he asked.

Chandler made a face at his teasing remark. “No, I’m donating that to charity. I have a different outfit in mind for Mr. Grant. Maybe the white chiffon.”

He whistled. “The one with the headdress? Your father almost dropped on the floor when you showed up at dinner and caused his client to spill champagne in his lap.”

Her laughter floated through the room as she shut the door behind her.

The situation was not what she’d expected.

Chandler watched the man from across the table as she bit into a slice of crusty French bread slathered in butter. From the moment he’d picked her up in his low slung Italian sports car he’d thrown her curve balls. Instead of the usual suit and tie, he lounged before her in a casual sport jacket and black turtleneck, which molded to his body and defined his broad shoulders and chest. Black slacks clung to his muscular thighs and a pair of Nike Air completed the outfit. Logan Grant actually wore sneakers. She couldn’t seem to accept it.

What was probably worse, she thought as she stabbed her fork into her Caesar salad, was his reaction when he’d seen her outfit. She’d prepared for a shocking response, but the pure masculine satisfaction mirrored in his eyes made her nervous.

Chandler had passed on wearing her white chiffon and instead wore a black lace bodysuit that peaked out from under a sheer black blouse in the finest of silk. Her black silk skirt flowed down to her ankles, but when she moved the material parted to reveal a dozen slits cut to her thigh. A wide silver belt completed the outfit. The fabric moved with her every movement and skimmed her body with lightness.

She gave up on hair clips and pins and let her hair fall loose, allowing her dark honey and sun-bleached tawny strands to curl wildly about her shoulders and down her back. She wore no jewelry, having always preferred bare skin to the overdone-in-gold look. Many arguments ensued with her father based on her tendency to dislike clothes suitable to the business world, but Logan didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she almost blushed under his direct gaze.

She sipped her Pinot Grigio and watched him carry on a lively conversation with the waiter about the Giants and their chance to win the Super Bowl. The man actually knew how to talk football. This hardly seemed fair given the amount of time he spent in the office.

“Food seems to be another one of life’s pleasures. Don’t you agree?” he asked in an amused tone, interrupting her thoughts. She paused in the act of reaching for another shrimp cocktail as the waiter left.

“I try to be vegetarian and eat tofu and yogurt, but my heart just isn’t in it.” She smiled. “I feel guilty when I lecture my students on nutrition. I’ve already made note of the dessert menu.”

He laughed. “A woman whose heart is controlled by her stomach. I respect that.” He watched her bite into the shrimp and close her eyes in delight. “I hope your profession can support your appetite.”

“If I wanted a fortune, I would have worked as a business executive.”

“So you said before. What else do you hate besides money, Chandler?”

Her green eyes glittered with a hint of moisture. “Power. People who control. Lies hidden behind smiles. The usual things most people hate.”

“It’s not so simple,” he said softly. “Most grab at an opportunity with both hands. People raised in poverty see money as their only way out of hell.”

She shook her head. “It’s a trap. They’re really giving up the self, and what they get in return is a lie. Money and power are illusions and only soothe for a temporary period. Then they wake up one morning needing more, and sacrificing more to get it. In the end they lose everything important and find themselves alone. Money can’t help loneliness.”

“That sounds like a conclusion drawn by one who followed the path and got burned. You talk from experience. What made you change?”

She looked up from her plate, startled. She never meant to get involved in this type of conversation. She didn’t like to tread in such dangerous territory, in fact she refused. Chandler forced a bright smile. “Why, my therapist, of course. Doesn’t everyone in New York have one?”

She held her breath and waited to see if he'd follow her lead. She relaxed when he smiled back. If he wanted answers she had a sinking feeling she’d have no choice in the matter. She made a mental note to be more careful of the information she leaked.

He focused his attention back to his dinner. “I’ll have Richard look over the contract and you can start the workshops on Monday.” His voice was cool and brisk. “I know your lawyer is inexperienced, but an escape clause shouldn’t have been offered. It puts you at risk.”

“Harry didn’t know until it was too late,” she said. “I came up with the idea myself. He gave me hell later.”

One black brow shot up. “Do you usually do impulsive things without telling anyone?”

She shrugged. “I only have myself to answer to, so I take responsibility for my actions.”

“Your Harry doesn’t take offense?”

Chandler frowned. “He has no say in my decisions.”

Logan watched her for a moment, then shook his head. “You haven’t met the man who’ll set a couple of rules for you.” He cut into his prime rib. “You’re too impulsive, so you need to be watched. I bet most men in your life don’t know how to handle you. You need someone with enough strength to tell you no once in a while.”

Her mouth dropped open. She took a quick grab at her temper. “I do not need, nor will I ever need, a man telling me what to do with my life,” she said firmly. “I am a capable, rational woman who knows exactly what will make me happy. No wonder I swore off business executives. Too many of your kind think they know what’s good for a woman and refuse to converse in a normal manner. They dictate, threaten, and bully their wives into doing what they want, forgetting the bedroom is not the boardroom. I refuse to be put through that experience again.”

“Again?”

She ignored his question and forged on. “Furthermore, I’m looking for a man who listens to what I have to say and supports my goals. A man willing to compromise when he disagrees with me.”

“You’d be bored out of your mind. You need someone who will yell back in the living room, and make up in the bedroom.”

She gasped. “That is the most ridiculous, chauvinistic remark I ever heard! I want a partner, not a caveman. I’m quite satisfied with my life and refuse to change for any man. Besides, you don’t know the men I date. They certainly don’t bore me.”

Logan clamped down hard on the wave of irritation that flowed through him at the idea of her dating a wide variety of men. His free spirited yoga teacher intended to show him she refused to cater to a man’s whims. Unfortunately, he became more determined to put an end to her experiments. Hell, this was crazy, he thought to himself in disgust. He’d never been a possessive man where women were concerned. Possessiveness indicated a messy emotion, which he normally stayed away from. Maybe this woman called to his sense of challenge. Obviously, she’d been burned by a corporate executive, and chose to stay far away from a man who wore a three piece suit.

His lips tightened. Time she learned a lesson. Chandler probably dated men she safely controlled, but she was about to discover he wouldn’t stay meekly on the sidelines once he decided he wanted her.

Logan studied her face. She stuck her chin high in the air, practically daring him to challenge her. A dab of red cocktail sauce clung to her lower lip. Almost as if she knew, her tongue snaked out and licked off the drop, unconscious of how damn sexy she appeared. He waited a beat. Then made his decision.

He wanted Chandler Santell.

“You haven’t met the right man yet,” he repeated.

Her hand trembled around the stem of her wine glass. The certainty in his voice and the heat in his eyes made her stomach slide downward, as if she had just plunged off the peak of a roller coaster. She fought the sudden urge to fidget, but reminded herself the deal was closed, and she didn’t have to plead her case. Of course, she still needed to placate him throughout the six month trial period, but refused to allow him to pry into her personal life. A strangled laugh rose to her lips. “You’re impossible.” She reached up and pushed back her hair. “Is this how you wear down your enemies?”

“Words won’t convince you. Action will.”

A chill ran down her spine. She ignored his remark and chalked it up to one of his control moves.

He devoted the rest of the conversation to neutral topics. She enjoyed matching her wits against his sharp mind, and was surprised at his dry sense of humor. No doubt, he had his share of fair offers by the way women in the restaurant snuck glances at their table. Chandler wondered if his good looks or his money held their rapt attention. The combination was a deadly mixture.

As he escorted her into his sports car, she admitted Logan made a nice dinner companion. As long as she kept the subject firmly averted from her personal life, he’d be the perfect advisor to help her business expand.

He pulled up to her apartment building. “Why don’t we finish celebrating our deal over brandy?” he asked.

Chandler hesitated, then decided she’d be rude not to agree. “Sure, come on up.” They walked up the flight of stairs and Chandler slid the key in the lock. She flipped on the lights and waved toward the sofa. “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll only be a moment.” She walked into the kitchen and kicked off her shoes.

Logan smiled at her sigh of relief before turning his attention to the room around him. He wandered around, pausing now and then to finger an object or study a painting. The cream walls, pale yellow carpet and off-white furniture helped set off a whirling array of colors and sights that attacked the senses. Cheerful, bright watercolors hung on the walls in a blinding intensity of images, they practically jumped out of their frames at him. They were so full of life.

Lush, green plants dangled above him as he checked the view out the window. A large ficus tree dominated one corner and half a dozen smaller plants he didn’t immediately recognize surrounded it. Some sort of Christmas looking pine tree and bunches of flowers claimed the other corner plus one entire wall. Chandler obviously had a green thumb with plants—he was curious to see how green she would make his bottom line.

Sitting among the foliage were three large marble sculptures struggling for attention. Each figure stretched in a different yoga position. He made a safe assumption they were not high art, but more of an emotional attachment. Books and magazines were tossed over the floor and furniture, and Logan caught the faint smell of incense which still hung in the air. He studied the sculptures in curiosity.

“One of my teachers gave me those.” She placed two snifters on the coffee table and sat down on the sofa. Logan sat next to her. “They were supposed to represent the new commitment I made to my life.”

“What commitment?”

Chandler smiled. “Truth in speech. Simplicity in manner. Firmness of mind. Three things to constantly strive for.”

“Have you succeeded?”

She took a sip of brandy. The heated liquid trickled down her throat and warmed her body. “I don’t think many people end up succeeding,” she said. “Peace is a constant journey. I know I’m happier and more satisfied than I’ve been in the past. Giving up the drive for wealth and power wasn’t as hard as I thought. I’ve gotten back so much.”

“Why does it have to be all or nothing? A person can still have money and reach spiritual height without giving up his dream.”

She shook her head. “I think the path sounds easier than it really is. Most people think they can have both, which may work for a while. But someone who is truly reaching for spiritual height will eventually have to choose between truth and lies. Truth must be chosen. When money’s involved, the decision becomes harder.”

Logan reached for his brandy and studied the amber liquid. “I disagree. If a person knows himself, he knows what path must be chosen. Money doesn’t corrupt, Chandler. People do.”

“Perhaps.” She settled back on the couch. “I think we talk too much about me. I want to know how the ‘man of steel’ received his nickname.”

He groaned. “If I ever get my hands on the journalist who wrote that article he will sorely regret it. I feel like I should wear a cape and be called Clark.”

Chandler laughed. “Oh, your reputation can’t be that bad,” she teased. “Your last coup with Larson Securities was very successful. Investors knock down your door to get a hint of your next target.” She swished the liquid around in her glass. “Now, I know you started off as a stockbroker and cultivated some high number of accounts, but you’ve expanded since then. You’re buying corporations outright now.”

He nodded. “I look for companies that are solid but in trouble. I buy them out, fix them up, and make more money. If I decide it’s not profitable, I just take the business apart and sell it off.”

“Like Richard Gere in Pretty Woman.”

Amusement gleamed in his eyes. “Yes, just like the movie.”

“In such a competitive market you’ve made quite a name for yourself.”

“I’ve managed.”

“You’ve more than managed. But you didn’t tell me how you got your nickname.”

A shadow passed over his face. His voice chilled when he finally spoke. “Does it matter?” She blinked in surprise. “No. I just thought we’d get to know one another. Since we’ll be working together, of course.”

“Of course.” A muscle worked in his jaw, but he seemed to want to answer her question. “When I first started L&G Brokerage, I needed to score some particular deals in order to keep afloat. Steele Investments was an up and coming company earning a lot of press. I decided if I was able to acquire them, I could easily double my company’s profits.”

The name skittered on the edge of her memory. “Wasn’t that a family owned company?”

“Yes. I researched all the members in the family. I learned their strengths and weaknesses, in their professional and private lives. It took me months, but I finally found the weak link.”

“What?”

“The younger brother was a gambler. Oh, they kept him tightly under wraps, but he started gambling with some of their investors money. His family couldn’t do too much since he owned a large chunk of stock, and of course, jail was out of the question. So, I hired a friend of mine to pose as an investor and meet with him personally.”

A cold chill raced down her spine. “You tempted him with money, didn’t you?”

He spoke with no emotion. “I gave him a million dollars to invest.”

She gasped. “You had that much capital available?” A slight smile touched his lips as he took a sip of brandy. “That was everything I had. I took a risk, and it payed off.”

“He took the money.”

Logan nodded. “Yes. His family found out too late. I offered them a deal. If they sold me the company, he’d stay out of jail. They signed the papers that week.”

She gripped the stem of her glass tighter. “Did the press ever find out?”

Logan shook his head. “They didn’t find out about the gambling. But after I signed the deal, the brother talked to a reporter and told him I practically threatened them to sign over the company. Said I was a cold-blooded monster who wouldn’t rest until I got what I wanted. The article stated no company was safe from me.”

“The ‘man of steel,’” she whispered.

He looked up. “With a heart to match.” His mouth set in a firm line. “I don’t look back and I don’t have regrets, Chandler. But I always try to protect the people close to me. Even at the expense of myself.”

His gaze met and held hers. She knew Logan Grant held secrets buried deep inside; secrets revealed only in brief flashes in his gun-metal eyes. The man lied, he held many regrets—but he wasn’t about to explain, and he wasn’t going to look back.

Her breath caught in her throat as an unexpected wave of protectiveness flooded her. Why did she have this sudden need to put her arms around him and offer comfort? Why wasn’t she horrified at his story, shocked at the way he manipulated another human being?

She didn’t know. She’d met many hungry executives before, and counted her own father among them, but there was a unique difference about the man beside her. She believed Logan when he said he’d be fiercely devoted to the people he loved.

“I believe you,” she said softly. “I don’t hold every businessman in a negative light, and I try not to make judgments on what I hear or read. People deserve a chance.”

“Does everyone deserve a chance? Or just the people you can keep at a safe distance?”

She pushed back her heavy mane of hair. “I don’t keep myself at a distance. I always try to give something of myself to people.”

“Even men?”

She bristled at his comment. “Everyone. Men and woman. I don’t draw distinctions between the two. If you’re talking about a romantic sense I’m bound to disappoint you. I never get involved with my students or my business partners.”

He raised an eyebrow at her warning. “Doesn’t leave a lot of territory open now, does it?”

She rose from the sofa and wondered how this man got her so defensive on the subject of her love life. Or lack of it. She glared at him. “Quantity is not my concern, Logan. Quality is what makes a relationship work, and I can guarantee I won’t find that with a man making a six figure salary, but is too busy to come home at night. I need more.”

He studied her in silence. Intensity radiated around him. She struggled to take a deep breath, suddenly afraid of him, of the powerful emotions that crackled in the room like a burst of summer lightning. She backed away a bit. He was no longer her charming dinner companion, but a dangerous man who seemed to feel something she couldn’t understand.

And she was alone with him.

Slowly, Logan stood up and placed the snifter on the table. He crossed the room in two strides and stopped before her. “Your apartment suits you.” His voice vibrated through her body like a caress. “It reminds me of a woman filled with life—one who uses every moment to feel pleasure.”

His hot steel gaze burned her. She stared, transfixed by his words and his voice and the heat that emanated from his body. “But at the same time there’s a part of you that remains in control, selfishly contained in a small, dark space. That part is cold and clinical, and vows to never melt into the other.”

He took the glass from her hand, set it beside his, then moved closer. The back of his hand caressed her face. “You hold yourself back, Chandler, waiting for someone who will never come; a fantasy figure who seems safer than a man of flesh and blood, a man who will probably make mistakes and possibly hurt you. But the man you deny yourself could also make your spirit soar. You’re too afraid to reach out and take him.”

He pulled her towards him with slow, deliberate movements. His warm breath penetrated her hair as his arms pressed her body into his. “Don’t run from me.” His voice commanded, whispered, in her ear. Then his mouth came down on hers.

Caught in the fog enveloping her mind, Chandler held herself perfectly still in his embrace. Her senses were overwhelmed by his unique scent as it mingled with his cologne. The heat of his kiss and the coiled power of his hard body ignited a raw sensual energy that threatened to engulf her.

Frantically, she realized the position she’d put herself in. Chandler knew he intended to prove her wrong regarding her attraction to corporate executives. By her denial, she’d waved a bright red flag in front of him and challenged his ego. She needed to remain calm and let him kiss her. He'd realize his mistake, apologize, and they’d continue their business arrangement and avoid future pitfalls.

Logan immediately felt her refusal to respond to him. Obviously, his yoga teacher held on to her rational thoughts and treated him as an experiment. He clamped down hard on the fierce need that raced through his body to make her surrender to her emotions, as he’d been forced to. He deliberately relaxed his hold and eased the pressure of the kiss, moving his lips teasingly over hers, inviting her to kiss him back. Slowly, he sipped at her mouth as if she were a precious drink of water in the hot desert sun, learning her taste and texture. Nibbling at her lower lip, his tongue teased its pouty outline as he continued a maddening game of arousal and retreat attempting to both sooth and ignite her.

Chandler unconsciously pressed her body closer to his, seeking something more to quench the fire in her belly that suddenly flamed to life.

The strong hands that had first dragged her to his embrace now glided over her shoulders and down her arms in a gentle caress. His fingers smoothed her flesh through the sheer black silk and made her wonder what his touch would feel like on her bare skin. Her mind clamored for her to push him away when his grip loosened, but her body longed to feel the promise behind his teasing kiss. The blood pumped through her veins with each deliberate movement of his hands and mouth.

Logan’s mouth brushed hers, then withdrew. He pulled his hands through her thick hair, rubbing each strand between his fingers in slow, easy movements. He lightly touched the tips of her breasts which immediately hardened under her stretch lace bodysuit. A moan escaped her lips.

“Open your mouth for me, Chandler,” he whispered. And then he was inside. His tongue pushed through the seam of her lips, glided over the smoothness of her teeth, and plunged into the slick recess of her mouth to engage in a passionate battle. He drank in her taste with a hunger she could no longer fight. Her arms slid up and around his shoulders and pulled him closer.

He crushed her soft, full breasts against his chest and insinuated one thigh between her legs, pushing her slightly off balance. Deftly, he undid the buttons of her silk blouse down to her waist and slipped it off her shoulders. The material fell away and cool air kissed her flesh, making her shiver. He dragged his mouth away and took in her swollen lips. “Do you realize how much I want you?” She trembled as his fingers stroked her breast. Her nipple rose into his palm as his thumb made teasing circles. “I knew it would be like this between us.”

Logan eased the stretchy black bodysuit over her shoulders and exposed her naked breasts to his gaze. He plucked her tight nipples, murmuring in satisfaction as she arched upward and silently begged for more. His fingers sunk into the hair at her nape and tugged her head back to drop over his arm. “God, you're beautiful."

Chandler felt like a pagan goddess about to be sacrificed. Her hair hung down her bare back, her breasts tilted upward, naked to his gaze and waiting for his mouth. Her body greedily demanded the pleasure this powerful man could give her, needing to be rid of the constraints her mind imposed over her many years of discipline. When was the last time she let a man pleasure her? For the first time, Chandler realized by letting her body take over, she felt gloriously free.

His warm breath teased her nipple as he lowered himself over her and opened his mouth fully over her breast. Throaty moans escaped her lips as he bestowed pleasure, bringing her to a fevered pitch of longing, knowing there was more. She became sensitized to the scrape of his teeth, the stroking of his tongue, the touch of his lips. A throbbing ache settled between her thighs. Overwhelmed by the sensation of being totally possessed, she sank into a place where only pleasure ruled. All her seething emotions and erotic desires, long hidden, suddenly burst free.

When Logan swept her up into his arms and carried her to the sofa, there was no thought in her mind to protest. He pressed her deep into the cushions, fully removed her blouse, and further pushed her bodysuit down to her waist. His leg lay heavily over hers, causing the slits in her skirt to fall open to mid-thigh.

“Touch me.”

His softly spoken demand made her tremble as she tugged the turtleneck out of his waistband and pushed the material upward, sliding her fingers beneath. She lingered over his hard stomach, tracing the swirling pattern of dark hair that covered his torso. He groaned when her nail brushed his flat nipple, causing her to pull back, unsure. When he remained perfectly still, her fingers retraced her path with wonder. His chest rose as he dragged in air. The crisp hairs tickled her palms as her gaze followed the dark line past his stomach to pause at the edge of his belt buckle.

His evident arousal made her ache to reveal more of him, so she let her hands coast downward to explore.

Logan muttered a curse, captured her wrists and pinned them above her head in one swift motion. His other hand slid up her calf, and stroked the sensitive skin behind her knee before he ventured higher and encountered the edge of her stocking. He let his fingers slide on the bare expanse of skin at the top of her thigh. Slowly he unsnapped her bodysuit between her legs and played with the line of her panties, letting one finger slip under the elastic, then moving away.

His mouth took hers in a hungry kiss, and Chandler fought for breath. When he finally raised his head, his gaze locked on hers. With deliberate motions, he settled his palm over the apex of her thighs. A rush of damp heat burned through the fragile black lace.

Slowly, he pressed.

Chandler arched upward and cried his name. Instantly his mouth was back on hers, kissing her without restraint as he continued the rotating, stroking motions of his palm. He drank in the tiny gasps that broke from her lips.

“Tonight I’m going to teach you how good we are together, Chandler. Give yourself to me and I swear you won’t regret it. I’ll take care of everything.”

His husky words had the effect of dumping a bucket of icy water over her. She froze, her mind frantically going over the implication of his last statement.

He would take care of everything.

With dawning horror, she realized how close she’d come to making another terrible mistake. Logan Grant wanted to take her to bed to prove a point. He’d deliberately planned to seduce her, using his coldblooded logic to justify his actions. Her seduction gained him more control, which would be an advantage in their business dealings. His ego also benefitted by conquering her objections to corporate executives. Once he accomplished his goal he’d tire of her, and then terminate their contract.

One night of passion could cost her the career she worked for all of her life. Nothing was worth that.

Not even the pleasure she found in his arms.

It took a few moments for Logan to realize the woman beneath him wasn’t struggling to get closer, but to free herself from his embrace. Those emerald eyes once sparked with passion now filled with growing panic. Her body stiffened, and the arms that had clung to his shoulders now pushed him away. Logan took some deep breaths to try and clear the fog from his mind, annoyed she now seemed to fear him on some level.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me.” He tried not to focus his attention on her lush mouth, swollen from his kisses. “I’d never do anything you didn’t want. I think you’re afraid to admit you want me. I don’t fit the image of your perfect lover.” His gaze took in her abandoned figure, naked to the waist, ruby nipples wet from his mouth. His voice dropped. “But your body betrays you.”

“Please let me up.” She crossed her arms in front of her. His gaze clashed with hers in a battle of wills before he slowly rose from the sofa. She pulled her bodysuit up with clumsy hands and turned to face him. “I apologize.”

One dark brow shot up in question. “Excuse me?”

Chandler began talking. Fast. “I think this is just a communication problem. I mistakenly made remarks leading you to believe I’d never be attracted to an executive. You subconsciously tried to prove me wrong, and you did. I admit defeat."

He watched her with interest. Her shoulders sagged with relief; she had his attention. Surely, once she presented the complications of getting involved with her, his normal, logical thoughts would take over. He’d agree to put the entire episode behind him. She needed to show him some concrete reasons to avoid an affair.

“Now, I think our best solution is to admit we had a brief attraction which originated from your desire to prove a point, and my surprise at your sudden actions. We both got a little carried away but we stopped our mistake in time. I think we can put this behind us and continue with our working relationship. Keeping distractions to a minimum is crucial for this project to work. Don’t you agree?”

She took his silence as agreement; he seemed to listen intently. “We’d have some difficulty keeping our personal lives separate from business, which could affect the result of the program. Second, the reaction of your employees could be detrimental. They could decide you weren’t serious about the workshop and only implemented it to satisfy your current lover.” Her tongue stumbled over her last word before forging on.

“So, I think it’s in our best interests to stick to our original agreement.” She laughed nervously when he remained silent. “We would have been a disaster, anyway. We’re much too different, and I’d never be able to handle a casual affair. Not that you have casual affairs all the time, but you’re probably much better at them than I am,” she stammered, trying hard not to blush at his pointed stare. “Well, I think we settled the problem. I’m glad we talked, and again I apologize if I led you on in any way.”

Chandler began to walk him politely to the door when she suddenly realized Logan Grant was furious.

Over six feet of coiled muscle towered over her. Dark brows drew together in a fierce frown, and icy gray eyes held her spellbound. Waves of raw, primitive energy radiated from his body in a swirling mixture of anger, frustration, and desire. Her breath caught in her chest. Her body swayed. Her nipples rose to meet him. Liquid heat pooled and throbbed between her thighs. She wished she felt fear. She wanted to be afraid. But her body dared him to take her.

Horrified by her own response, she took a step backward.

He closed the distance between them. She gazed up and knew he glimpsed every naked emotion she attempted to hide. Confusion. Defiance. Desire.

He reached out and roughly caught her chin with his hand. His thumb caressed her swollen lips and gently parted the tender flesh as he watched her struggle to contain her body’s reaction. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction, as if he knew what she was feeling and thinking; as if he knew the game would be played by his rules and she was helpless to stop him.

“Good night, Chandler.” He abruptly released his hold and walked out the door.