Heart of Steel

Chapter 6

The following evening Chandler sipped her wine and gazed at the man who wreaked havoc with her life. Her dinner appointment with Harry had been postponed, replaced with one of Logan’s making.

She had picked up the phone a hundred times to cancel on Logan, then replaced the receiver while she raged at his incredible arrogance. The whole time she dressed she vowed he would not order her around like one of his employees. The only reason she hadn’t canceled was the business opportunity for her school. When he picked her up she acted cool and distant, prepared to ignore any apology or explanation he offered. It only angered her further when he’d taken her lead and treated her with utmost politeness and kept their conversation on a neutral basis.

She wanted to hit him over the head with a blunt object.

Chandler re-focused her attention on the conversation. “I’m pleased with the final negotiations,” Thomas Weatherall said. He glanced lovingly at his wife. “Time to relinquish some responsibilities and give Laura the attention she deserves. She’s been patient for too long.”

Laura laughed and laid her hand over her husband’s. “I knew what I was walking into when I married him, but I admit I’m looking forward to doing some traveling. With the kids grown we finally have time to do what we want.”

Chandler smiled. She liked Thomas and Laura Weatherall the moment she met them. Obviously, the older couple were still in love after many years. They complemented each other nicely. He was a tall man, quiet and reserved, with silver hair and a stately manner. Laura was short and energetic, with red hair and sparkling eyes. Her movements were quick and her laugh was loud. Chandler bet Thomas learned not to take life quite so seriously with his wife around. She applauded Laura’s success.

Laura turned to her. “Chandler, I think your idea of a stress workshop is a wonderful idea. I know Tommy’s company could use it desperately. All those nice young men and woman end up with ulcers and migraines by running themselves into the ground. Have you seen any success yet?”

“I think it’s working out rather well. Logan will analyze the results in six months, and hopefully we’ll be able to expand.” She prayed he wouldn’t say something to the contrary. His chuckle took her by surprise.

“We’re not halfway through yet and already the employees seek her out with their problems,” he said. “I’m afraid if I tried to get rid of her they’d band together and overthrow me as monarch.”

Everyone laughed. Chandler glanced at him and caught his wink. She felt guilty at her previous thought to injure him.

“Well, you have to be a miracle worker if you get our ‘man of steel’ to relax,” Tommy said, ignoring Logan’s groan at the nickname dubbed him.

“Yes,” Laura chimed in. “I’ve been telling him for years all he needed was a good woman. Now maybe he’ll stop trying to invite himself for dinner every Thursday night.”

Chandler arched one brow. “Let me guess. Meatloaf?”

Laura shook her head. “Pork chops. And I have to warn you, I’ve already found three other women he finagles dinner from on a weekly basis. I think it’s all in his master plan.”

Logan threw up his hands in defeat. “I admit I’m a lousy cook. I complement you, Laura. No one makes food like you do.”

Laura leaned in. “I bet he says that to all the girls.”

Chandler stopped smiling when she caught the sensual gleam in his gray eyes. His voice dropped. “Once I find the right one I’d never stray. It’s a contract for life.”

She clumsily reached for her wine and tried to hold back a blush at the pointed smiles directed at her. Logan made it evident he was interested in more than business, and his clients seemed delighted at the thought.

Tommy pushed back his chair and stood up. “If you’ll excuse us, I’m going to take my wife for a spin on the dance floor.”

Chandler watched them, hands entwined, as they walked away.

“Are you still angry?”

She looked up. She studied his face, captivated by the slope of his jaw, smoky eyes, black brows. His mouth could have been sculpted by an artist. His lips were finely outlined with just a hint of softness evident in the lower one. The khaki sports jacket he wore hugged the broad line of his shoulders and emphasized the breadth of his torso. She struggled to keep her voice cool. “Of course I’m still angry. Since I’ve met you I feel like I’ve been run over by a steamroller.”

Logan chuckled. “Funny, I’ve felt the same way since you walked into my office.”

She snorted in disbelief. “I haven’t acted like a bully and ordered you to cancel dinner dates.”

“I don’t know how else to make you listen. You don’t believe me about Thorne, and now you think Weston is harmless. He wants more than friendship.”

Chandler let out her breath in disgust. “Harry is harmless. I only tried to make you believe something else was going on because I wanted to teach you a lesson. I’m sorry.”

He studied her for a moment, then relaxed. He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “Did you like making me jealous?”

“No!” she denied hotly. “Of course not, I just wanted to—”

“I think you wanted to see how far you could push me.” His fingers slowly stroked the delicate flesh of her wrist and glided up her bare arm. She tried to contain her racing pulse. “Maybe you wanted me to lose my temper, so I’d be forced to show you how good we are together. Hurl you over my shoulder and carry you into the bedroom. Thrust my tongue inside of you over and over—”

“Logan!”

His hand dropped from her arm to her thigh. She fought for breath. “We’ll spend hours locked in the bedroom because I have a long list of wants. To feel you melt beneath my fingers. Hear my name on your lips when you beg me to take you, opening yourself to me so—”

“Please!” She placed her fingers over his lips. “You win. I get the picture. You don’t—you don’t have to go on.”

His eyes lit with mischief. “Are you sure? I was just getting to the part when you wrap your legs around my hips and—”

“Logan!”

He chuckled and brought his hand up to touch her cheek, which was now a fiery red. “I can’t help it, you blush beautifully.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re lovely.” A sudden smile touched her lips at his admiration. Her blush clashed with her pale rose dress skimming over her body in the most delightful ways. He wondered if she’d worn her hair down just to tease him. It was clipped away from her face but tumbled down her back. When the candlelight touched her she shimmered, an ethereal figure of grace and beauty. He was almost afraid to touch her in case she dissolved in a ray of light.

“Thank you.” Chandler cleared her throat. The imprint of his hand still burned. “I like Tommy and Laura. Have you known them long?”

He took a swallow of brandy. “We worked together in the same firm for a number of years before I decided to start out on my own. Tommy’s been good to me. More like a friend than a business associate. When my mother died years ago he helped me through a rough time.”

She reached over and covered his hand with her own. “Logan, I’m sorry, that must have been difficult. Were you close?”

“Yes, she was all I had left.” A shutter dropped over his face. “When my mother became pregnant my father was forced to marry her. He hated us both for that. You see, he had great ambitions and living in a shack with a wife and kid wasn’t in the picture. So, one day he left to pursue his dream of fame and fortune.”

His fingers gripped the snifter. “She fell apart after that. She had to work so hard to try and take care of me, and she tired easily. I never realized she was dying. She kept that from me for a long time. By the time I had built a successful career it was too late. She was already gone.”

Her fingers squeezed his. “That must have been so much responsibility for a young boy to take on,” she said softly. “Your mother must have been proud of your ambitions.”

He didn’t speak for a while, as he contemplated the amber liquid in his glass. “It was too late. I became successful too late to save her.”

Her heart broke into a million pieces. His matter of fact tone told her he still carried the pain of his mother’s death. Even with his achievements, he couldn’t erase the guilt, and she felt tears sting her eyes when she thought of the little boy who’d taken the weight of the world on his shoulders. She laid a hand on his hard cheek, and turned his face toward her.

His face steeled for pity, but she gazed at him with only deep understanding. “You gave her the greatest gift a son could. You became everything she always wished you to be.”

Something passed between them, a current of emotions so strong she sucked in her breath at the sheer intensity. His hand gripped hers in reaction and Chandler knew she had learned something intimate about this man no other woman had been given. She was honored by the gift, fearful of the connection forged, and dizzy with the sensations passing through her body. He opened his mouth to speak but Laura interrupted them.

“Logan, take this lovely lady onto the dance floor and show her what you can do. We’ve already requested Frank Sinatra.”

He gave her a questioning look. “Ms. Santell?”

“I’d be honored, Mr. Grant. Tommy must have known that besides chocolate, Frank Sinatra is my other addiction.”

He led her through the elegant dining room and paused along the way to greet a few business associates. The restaurant was small and intimate, with carefully placed tables sprinkled throughout the room, tastefully set with fine linen and sparkling china. Waiters dressed in crisp white uniforms glided past their patrons with subtle grace, anticipated every need, then faded appropriately into the background. Chandler’s heels clicked as they stepped onto the highly polished dance floor. The wood gleamed from the play of light cast from a crystal chandelier.

The lead singer signaled to the band and stepped forward. His low, husky voice poured into the microphone and Logan pulled her gently into his embrace. His arms encircled her waist, and his hand pressed into the small of her back to draw her close. Her breasts teased the hard muscles of his chest. As their bodies swayed, her nipples dragged across his front. She gripped his shoulders in response to the caress and stumbled. He eased her closer.

The lilting strains of the slow, moody ballad drifted in the air. The floaty material of her silk dress brushed against his thighs as they moved. Logan muttered something under his breath.

“What?”

“I said Laura must want to torture me. I should be arrested for the lecherous thoughts I’m having in a public place.”

Chandler hid a smile. “She’d be shocked at your lecherous words, too.”

“I think it turned you on.”

She gasped. “You’re incorrigible.”

“So you’ve said.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “Laura likes you. She thinks you’ll be good for me.”

“I think she’s tired of making pork chops every Thursday.”

Logan chuckled. “Smart mouth. From the sweetest of smiles comes the sharpest of barbs.”

“Who said that?”

“I did.”

“Oh. I thought you were quoting someone.”

“I was quoting myself. Why do you look so nervous?”

“You’re staring at my mouth like you’re starving and I’m your next meal.”

He gave a wolfish grin.

“I’m still trying to convince myself I’m not your prey.”

“When you look at me like that I think I’d chase you to the ends of the earth.”

“See, you are a poet. And to think I’d given up on dry, logical businessmen. Maybe there’s hope for your lot.”

“Dry, logical businessmen can turn into butterflies if they find the right women.”

Their eyes locked. This time he caught her before she stumbled. His fingers threaded through her hair hanging down her back. He clung to the silky strands. The faint scent of vanilla drifted up to him. He groaned.

Her face reflected confusion. She blurted out her next words without obvious thought. “Why do you chase me so hard?”

“Why do you run so fast?”

Her lower lip trembled. “Because I’m afraid.”

The stark admission hung in the air between them. He felt the wall between them start to crumble. Instead of experiencing triumph, he was overcome with the need to protect her, to sooth the wild fear beneath the rubble. “You never have to be afraid of me,” he said. “One day I’ll prove it.”

She relaxed in his arms and allowed her body to mold against his. His hands moved up and down her spine as if asking her to trust him. She shivered.

Smoke filled the room around them, glasses tinkled, laughter rung out. They were all distant sounds and images secondary to her rapid pulse and the fire in her belly. When the music stopped he set her gently away from him. His gaze raked over her face, as if reading her thoughts. Then he led her back to the table.

His friends beamed. Logan felt like a teenager who found his first girlfriend. They ignored his fierce scowl, their smiles widening, as they fell into easy conversation over a succulent dinner of seafood. Lobster dripping with butter, grilled shrimp in scampi sauce, juicy crab legs that snapped crisp between their fingers. The Pinot Grigio was cold and fruity, the bread warm and lightly seasoned with garlic. Chandler dug in with gusto, eliciting some teasing comments, and the evening passed with banter and good humor. While the men settled the check, she turned to Laura with genuine warmth.

“I’ve had a wonderful time. I’m glad we met.”

Laura smiled back. “I feel the same way. You and Logan must come to dinner one night at the house.”

Chandler bit her lip, uneasy at what the older woman thought. “I don’t want you to get the wrong impression. We’re just business partners, even though Logan isn’t hiding his desire for more. I’m not sure yet. About him. About anything.”

Laura studied her a moment. Her eyes danced. “Do you mind if I speak frankly?” She shook her head. “Logan reminds me of Tommy when I first met him. When we started getting involved I was scared to death. Everyone told me he was a workaholic, and he’d ignore me and the children once we got married. Maybe they could’ve been right.” She paused. “But they weren’t. Tommy changed. Oh, sure, he’ll always love his work and his company. It’s a part of who he is. But I know I came first, and he never let me think otherwise. I believe when the right woman comes along anything is possible.”

She patted her hand. “You’re probably just as scared as I was. Logan can be a terribly intimidating man. He holds a lot of himself back; but he’s more open with you than I’ve ever seen before. Sometimes a man needs someone who’s willing to take a chance on him.”

Chandler forced the words out. “I need a man who wants the same things as I do. Who believes in the same things.”

The older woman looked thoughtful. “I understand. I felt the same way you did, once. Then Tommy let me see the inner person, and everything changed.” She hesitated. “If you’re ever ready to get a glimpse of who Logan really is, give me a call. I’ll tell you where to find him on Sundays.”

Before Chandler questioned her strange words, the men came back. They exchanged good-byes and she waited at the table while Logan got her coat. When he returned, he smiled. “They enjoyed meeting you.”

“I had a good time. Tommy asked to see me in his office to discuss the program.” She fiddled with the edge of the tablecloth. “Thank you again for recommending my workshop.”

“You’re welcome. Thanks for being my date tonight.”

“You’re welcome.”

“We must be the two most polite people on earth.”

Chandler laughed. They stared at each other for a few moments. “Well, I guess we should call it a night.”

“Yes, I guess we should.” He escorted her towards the door, stopping to complement the maitre d’ on the service, then guided her into the silver Jaguar. Chandler leaned back into the seat as Logan weaved his way through the city traffic with the ease of an expert. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to relax, deciding not to question him when he jumped on the Henry Hudson Parkway and shot off into the night. It was a while before he reached the outskirts of the city and pulled into a dead end road.

“This isn’t my apartment.”

“No,” Logan agreed. “It’s not.” She turned to look at him when he cut the engine. “I’d like to show you something.”

She gave an unladylike snort. “I think I’ve heard that line before.”

Logan chuckled. “I’m sure you have. Please be assured if I had a different intention my approach would be flawless.”

Her lips twitched. “The male ego is incredible.”

“I can offer you a killer cognac or a hot cappuccino.”

“Sold.”

The street was quiet as they walked up the pathway. Chandler squinted in the darkness, but only caught an impression of a stark simplicity to the features of the house. The three story, modern structure seemed to thrust toward the sky, its roof hooking low over the front, sandwiched between two large picture windows. As Logan led her through the heavily carved door, the raw power and elegance that permeated the room struck her.

The color scheme was a relaxing blend of cream and sand tones, set off by soft leather and warm teak. A variety of cactus plants were carefully scattered about. Chandler walked past the large modern marble fireplace and peered up the wide spiral staircase leading to the upstairs.

“Your home is lovely, Logan.” Her gaze took in the high ceilings and a massive wall of carved glass. She pictured how the room would look bathed in the light of the morning sun.

“Thank you.” He watched in amusement as she studied the pile of books by his desk, neatly alphabetized by author. “I could have bought one of those fancy condos, but somehow the moment I found this place I knew it was home.” He handed her a heavily cut glass. “Here, start with a little of this, then I’ll put on espresso. It’s a Godiva cordial.”

“Hmmm, chocolate.” She sipped in pleasure. “Do you mind the commute to Manhattan?”

“Not really. I have an apartment close to the office if I need to stay overnight. The quiet and privacy is worth the drive in.”

“I know what you mean. I grew up in the city and always dreamed of moving upstate. Most of my childhood was spent in my father’s office. As luxurious as it was, somehow I think a cottage in the mountains is what I would like my children to remember.”

“Not million dollar business deals.”

She nodded. “I’m sure you’d disagree.”

“Don’t you think I want my children to have it better than I did? They’ll have a choice whether or not to enter the corporate world. Besides, I always wanted to try horseback riding.”

A giggle escaped her lips. “Somehow the image doesn’t fit.”

“Why not?” he demanded.

“Because, you’d have a hell of a time accepting the horse as boss—you wouldn’t be in control.”

His voice dropped to a low growl. “I don’t have a problem relinquishing control if the reward is worth it.”

Sexual tension lit up the room. She gulped her chocolate cordial and gasped as the liquid slid hotly down her throat. She searched wildly for something neutral to say to break the silence. “Didn’t you want to show me something?”

Logan smiled lazily. “Are you ready to see it?”

Chandler wondered if the alcohol made her hear things differently. There seemed to be a sexual undertone to everything he said. Maybe she shouldn’t have had that last glass of wine at dinner. “Yes, I’m ready.”

Logan loosened his tie, moving with slow, deliberate motions. The silky material slid through his fingers and gleamed against his tanned hands. The lump in her throat grew. He pulled the tie off and threw it over the back of the chair, never taking his eyes from her face. Easing out of his sports jacket, he tossed it over the chair to join the tie.

Her fingers tightened around the stem of her glass.

He stood in front of her in casual dress slacks which emphasized muscled thighs and lean hips. She couldn’t stop her gaze from roving over him, overwhelmed by the sheer power of the male figure before her. She opened her mouth to halt this strip tease which took her very breath away, but his hands moved toward the buttons of his crisp white shirt and slipped them from the buttonholes one at a time. He revealed a line of curling dark hair. Her thoughts turned to wicked, sexual fantasies of popping the rest of the buttons in one sweep, ravishing him on the floor, then pulling off the rest of his clothes by using her teeth. And the things she could do with his belt—

His fingers stopped on the third button.

“It’s in the bedroom.”

She managed a strangled squeak. “Bedroom?”

“Yes.” He paused. “Do you want me to go get it?”

“Get what?”

“The thing I wanted to show you.”

She cursed herself the moment her gaze dropped. She hurriedly glanced away. “Yes, that would be fine. Do you want me to come with you?”

One black brow shot up. “Do you want to come with me to the bedroom?”

Chandler reached up to push back her hair. “No, no, I’ll wait here.” With a relieved sigh she watched him turn and walk up the stairs. She sank into the deep folds of the sofa and groaned. Why did Logan Grant always turn her into a stuttering idiot? The man constantly made her look foolish and she had no other excuse except for her overactive hormones. Why was she on guard with him? Because he declared she would be in his bed one day?

Would that be so terrible?

She rested her head back on the plush leather sofa and studied the ceiling. Laura’s words spun through her mind, already foggy from the alcohol. If a man met the right woman anything was possible.

Was he the right man for her? His kisses made her body burn for more. His quick wit and dry humor challenged her mind—she liked that. And, when he talked about his mother she ached to hold him and take away his pain. Were her emotions all caught up with lust, or could there be something more? Something like love—

Chandler’s eyes widened. Love? No, she couldn’t be in love with Logan Grant. She needed someone she could trust and depend on. Someone who could love her in the same way she loved him.

Like Richard Thorne.

Her mind flashed to the last time they had seen each other. He’d escorted her to a wonderful vegetarian restaurant, then proceeded to involve her in an enriching conversation about the philosophy of life. Obviously, Richard was the type of man to build a future with. Unlike Logan, he worked in the business world but was not controlled by the culture.

Or was he?

She shifted as a sudden thought took hold. Why did she have an uneasy feeling he lied to her? Something glimmered in those chestnut eyes—something she didn’t seem to trust. Staring at the ceiling the most disappointing revelation came to her—the truth of her feelings.

She did not love Richard Thorne.

She was falling in love with Logan.

Chandler shivered with a small sliver of pure, unbridled fear. Could a man who always needed to be in control let go and allow himself to love? Did she really want to take a chance on someone who may never be able to give her what she needed? At least she was happy with her life now. She had peace and stability. She had work. She had friends and students she cared about. She had—

She had no one to come home to at night or wake up with in the morning. She had no one to make her body burn and her heart sing. When Logan took her in his arms she felt like she could fly. Was that wrong?

Maybe she needed to take a chance on life. On Logan.

Logan walked back into the room. He propped a large flat package up on the thick beige carpeting and pulled off the wrapping. The image he revealed made her gasp with pleasure.

It was a painting. Her senses were assaulted by the stark beauty it depicted. An ancient castle rose above the earth, surrounded by rich gardens of flowers that climbed up the walls in an almost desperate attempt to mask it. Gaping windows peeked through wildly clinging leaves, finally breaking free to rise into the sky. The old broken castle stones told a story of time. Struck by the sense of history, Chandler wondered how many wars the castle had stood through, how much bloodshed or laughter or births had taken place within its walls.

“What country?”

“Spain. It’s one of the oldest castles still intact. I spotted it in a gallery and knew I had to have it.” They stared at the painting together for a while, not speaking.

“I was going to hang it over the fireplace.”

She nodded. “It’s stunning.” He studied her face, and nerves tightened again in her belly. Chandler brought the glass to her lips and found it empty. He hid a smile as he carefully re-wrapped the painting and poured her another glass.

“Be careful with this stuff, sweetheart. It’s potent.”

“I’m fine.” She watched him from under her lashes. He filled another glass for himself and walked over to a leather reclining chair, rubbing his temple. A slight frown creased his brow.

“Are you feeling okay?” she asked.

He waved his hand in the air. “I had a long day. Tommy told me one of my executives has to go before we complete the deal. He screwed up and cost us money. We can’t afford any other mistakes.”

“Who?”

“Jim Chrisetta.”

She sat up. “Jimmy? Oh, Logan, you can’t fire him, his wife's expecting a baby. Didn’t he just get a promotion a few months ago?”

He looked at her in surprise. “How did you know? Wait, don’t tell me, you had a heart to heart chat about his stress.”

“Very funny.”

“The promotion made this whole damn thing complicated. He did so well in his last position, so I moved him to management. Now those department’s figures are down from last quarter. I have no choice.”

“Of course you have a choice. Jimmy told me he’s been under a lot of pressure with this promotion. He works around the clock and never gets to see his family anymore. You gave him too much responsibility. Management doesn’t suit him.”

Logan shook his head. “We had a serious discussion before the promotion and he knew what the job entailed. His old position is already filled. Besides, Tommy was insistent.”

Chandler crossed her arms in front of her. “You own the company, and you call the shots. Jimmy doesn’t deserve to be fired because he thought he could handle something and made a mistake. This will crush his spirit. You can’t fire him.”

“Sweetheart, it’s business. I can’t get emotional.”

Her eyes grew sad. “I’ve heard the explanation before,” she said. “So sorry a person has to get hurt in the pursuit for money and glory, Chandler. It’s all for the good of the company, Chandler.”

His face hardened to stone. “I’m not your father,” he stated coldly.

“No,” she agreed. “But you are a businessman, aren’t you?”

The challenge simmered in the air. She watched him struggle with his temper. He held himself rigid and still in his chair as he fought for control. A surge of adrenaline ran through her. Dizzy from the alcohol, angry at his logic, she recognized the driving need to make him lose his temper. As he pulled himself together she felt a flash of disappointment she couldn’t mask. She stood up and stumbled. “I’d like to go home.”

“Sulking?”

She sputtered in indignation. “Sulking! I am not sulking. I think this conversation is over and I want you to take me home.”

“This conversation is not going the way you want,” he corrected patiently, “and that is why you want to go home. I refuse to let you throw me in league with your father, even though I’ve never met him. Maybe I’d understand better if you tell me what happened between you and him.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She shifted her feet for better balance.

“Okay, if you don’t want to talk about your father, or the reason you left his company, can you do me a favor?”

“What?”

“Can you help me get rid of this headache?”

She studied him with suspicion. He massaged his temple, seemingly annoyed he’d be bothered by pain. He looked harmless enough, but Chandler knew him well. His admission could be part of his master plan to get her into bed. “You have a headache?”

“Yeah. It’s been pounding at the back of my head all day. I’m afraid it’ll turn into a migraine.”

“Maybe you wouldn’t have these health problems if you didn’t fire Jimmy.” He glowered at her. After a few moments she realized he was serious. “You really do have a bad headache, don’t you?”

“No, it’s all in my master plan to get you in bed.” She bit her lip. “Yes, I really have a headache. Didn’t you say something in class about pressure points?”

“Yes.” She walked over and set to work. “We need to switch positions. I’m going to sit in the chair and you’re going to sit, legs outstretched on the floor with the back of your head between my knees.”

“I like this kind of therapy.”

He ignored the look she shot him and did as told. Chandler leaned over to position his shoulders. Her hair fell forward and brushed against him. He let out his breath in a hiss and jumped.

“Are you okay?”

He muttered something she couldn’t catch. “Fine. I just hope I know what I’ve gotten myself into.”

“Relax. Take some of those deep cleansing breaths I’ve taught you.”

His shoulders rose as he drew air deeply into his lungs. The heat of his skin burned against her palms and made the thin fabric of his shirt a flimsy barrier. Slowly, the muscles in his shoulders started to unclench. She kept her voice low and soothing. “Focus on your breath. Feel the air being drawn in and out, letting your belly expand like a balloon. Allow your muscles to relax while all thoughts scatter away.” Her palms skated lightly over his shoulders and down his upper arms. She kept her tone even and drew him into a hypnotic state.

She pressed her thumbs into the back of his shoulder blades and massaged the muscles. Resistance met each stroke, but she eased her fingers back and forth until he responded to her touch. As she spoke, she worked each muscle in his shoulders and upper back, enjoying the sleek feel of his body. Hard muscles rippled beneath her palms. His steady breath whispered through his lips.

Chandler leaned over the edge of the chair. Her fingers traveled up the nape of his neck to his scalp. Dark crisp strands of hair clung to each fingertip as she massaged his scalp with gentle kneading motions. She turned him to sit and face her as she lingered at his temples and pressed. She caressed his hairline and forehead, smoothed down the line of his brow, and explored the carved features of his face.

A groan escaped his lips as his head bobbed closer to her breasts. “I see why this technique is considered dangerous. I’m your helpless victim.”

Chandler smiled and pulled at his ears, moving her thumbs in small circles around the sensitive flesh. “Is some of the pressure lifting?”

“Yeah. Most of it was in my right shoulder.”

“Hmmm, you have a nice knot there. Stretch out on the floor face down.” She moved from the chair to straddle his back as she probed the spot. “Focus your breath on the area while I work on it a little more.”

She kneaded the muscles but still felt resistance. Concentrated on relieving his pain, she slipped her hands beneath his shirt and continued the massage. She squeezed and released, letting her hands glide over his bare skin. Muscles jumped beneath her touch as she explored the hard body before her. It felt like steel sheathed in satin.

Electrical currents raced through her. Suddenly, she realized Logan’s breathing turned ragged. His muscles stilled beneath her hands. She stopped and dug her nails into his shoulder as the swirling tension enveloped the room.

She became aware of their positions. Bent forward, her hair fell over his left shoulder and brushed against the bare skin at his neck. Her thighs shifted and rubbed against him as she massaged him. Her nipples hardened against the thin silk of her dress, begging to be touched.

He suddenly rolled onto his back, leaving her still sitting on his torso. His shirt gaped open and revealed his upper shoulders to her hungry gaze. Her legs were spread wide as she straddled him, and one of his hands rested on her upper thigh for support. Those five fingers burned into her skin as he squeezed lightly.

“Chandler?”

His husky question made her heart race. He seemed to fight for control. She knew all she had to do was pull away and proclaim the evening over; she’d be safe for another night.

Chandler decided she was tired of being safe.

Her fingers glided over his face and neck in a caress. She gave in to the pleasure of freely touching him, glorying in his strength and suppleness as a woman now, not as a teacher.

A hiss of air escaped his lips when he realized she wasn’t running away. She lay sprawled across the heavy weight of his thighs and looked him straight in the eye.

“You’re not running.” He pressed his thumb gently against her mouth. Waited for her response.

“I can’t,” she said simply. “You win.”

She watched the emotions flicker over his face, partly surprised that she spotted no gleam of triumph for his victory. In fact, a slight frown marred his brow. With a muttered curse, and one rapid motion, she was on her back, his mouth covering hers. Chandler forgot every thought she ever had except the way Logan Grant bestowed pleasure.

With a single thrust Logan parted her lips and hungrily plundered the honey sweetness he found, over and over again, melding their mouths together in a fusion of desire and need. He became ruthless in his victory, demanding every response she had to give.

Her senses were overpowered by the scent of brandy on his breath, the musk and soap from his skin, the dark heady taste of raw male hunger. His teeth tugged gently on her lower lip, then bathed the flesh with his tongue. With a low moan, she reached up and plunged all ten fingers into sable strands of hair.

One hand shot out to hold her still as he led her in a game of attack and retreat. His tongue led a teasing dance and urged her to play. She gripped his shoulders and tried to drag him closer to her arching body.

He gave a low laugh and dropped tiny kisses along her jaw, down her neck, the hollow of her throat.

“Tell me what you want.” His hand cupped her breast and teased her nipple through the thin silk.

She struggled for breath. “I want you to touch me.”

“I am touching you,” he murmured. His teeth nipped at her shoulder while his fingers plucked at the hard crest.

“No, under my dress. Take it off.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Deftly, he undid the buttons and pulled it over her shoulders. His eyes burned hotly over the lacy scrap of bra that revealed more than it concealed, before he snapped open the clasp.

Cool air rushed against her skin as she was bared to his sight. Shyness overcame her, but the look in his eyes made her flush with pleasure, knowing he wanted her, knowing she pleased him.

“God, you’re more lovely than I remember.” He worshiped the creaminess of her skin with his gaze, the silky feel of her with his hands. “Tonight I want to teach you to fly. You’ll see how good it can be, Chandler. Only with me. Then you’ll know we were meant to be together.” His words made a throbbing need pound between her thighs, and she curled her nails into the hard muscles of his shoulders.

His mouth lowered to one breast, his breath warm on her skin. A whimper caught in her throat as she arched upward and begged for more. His lips rubbed over the hard crest, back and forth, the slight scratchy feel from his five o’clock shadow a delicious contrast to the softness of his lips.

He suckled gently, then scraped his teeth across the hard nub, making her cry out. Liquid heat coursed through her body and her fingers clenched in his hair, urging him on, frantic with need.

She tugged at the buttons of his shirt and tossed it aside. Her hands ran over his broad chest and reveled in the hard, lean muscles rippling under her palms, the crisp dark hairs that swirled in an intriguing pattern and disappeared into the waistband of his slacks. A long stream of words escaped his lips, either a curse or a prayer, and she let her fingers trail down his chest to trace the edge of his slacks. Then lingered.

Slowly, she let her hands drift downward, testing the hardness of his desire, the raw strength and masculine power pulsing beneath her fingers. His stomach muscles clenched under her touch, his body hard.

Chandler looked up and watched his face. His eyes were half closed as he fought for control, his gun-metal gray gaze glittered with hot, male need as she wrapped her hands around him.

Carefully, she squeezed.

With a muttered groan, he lifted her off his thighs and turned her so that her back pressed against his chest and his hips cradled her buttocks, spoon style. She reached back and gripped his thighs for balance, and he chuckled when she tried to twist back around.

“Oh, no you don’t, you little witch. I haven’t waited this long so you could push me over the edge in a few minutes.”

“But I want to touch you,” she insisted. “I want to make you feel the way I do when you open your mouth on my breasts, and touch my skin.”

“And how does that make you feel?” he asked.

“Strange.” She sounded thoughtful. “Hot and tingly. Like I’m craving something, something I can’t reach yet.”

Logan stilled, choosing his words with care. “And you never felt like this before?”

“I did once. But not this intensely. And the other time became, well, painful.”

He realized then that she’d never had a man fully satisfy her. She probably didn’t realize her past lover selfishly took her virginity and ignored her needs. Logan cursed the stupidity of the man. There was an untapped wealth of passion contained in Chandler Santell. The knowledge he’d be the first to give her such an experience affected him in a way he never expected. Overcome by possessiveness, he knew he could make this woman truly belong to him. But it was more than that. He realized he wanted her to surrender not only her body, but her heart. Humbled by the gift she wanted to bestow, he suddenly wanted to be worthy of it.

She needed to trust him completely.

So tonight he couldn’t make love to her.

He closed his eyes and fought for control. Then he bent his head and pushed back the heavy mane of hair from her neck. He let his warm breath brush against her ear as he bestowed light kisses down her cheek. “I want you to close your eyes and relax, Chandler. Let me show what I can do to you.”

Chandler felt wrapped in a cocoon of warmth. His voice poured over her like hot caramel. His hands moved over her breasts and squeezed. She gripped at his thighs as the tension grew and a low moan of frustration escaped her lips. His fingers ran down her stomach and stroked her legs. She arched upward, demanding more, demanding something, uncertain.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He sucked in his breath as he looked down, taking in her creamy skin, flat stomach, full naked breasts, and the honey brown triangle hidden at the apex of her smooth thighs. She wore only a scrap of pale pink lacy underwear.

“Logan?”

He heard the uncertainty in her voice and soothed her. “I know you feel like you’re losing control, but I’m going to show you more pleasure than you’ve ever known. Let me give you this.”

His fingers trailed across her stomach and left a path of fire. Her mind worked sluggishly through a fog of desire. Her eyes closed halfway as he traced his thumb along the line of her panties. His palm settled over her center and he lightly massaged her tender flesh.

Her hips shot up when his fingers pressed. He rotated his hand, dragging the lacy material back and forth over her, until her heart pounded and her blood roared and she thought she’d die of pleasure if he kept going.

“Open your legs for me, Chandler,” he muttered darkly in her ear. One finger slipped under the elastic, testing her swollen heat, her readiness for him. She gasped at the sensation and wanted more. Her legs opened for him. With a murmur of satisfaction he slipped another finger under the material and touched her intimately.

“Logan!”

His teeth nipped at her earlobe as his fingers slipped inside. Stretched her wet, pulsing heat. He played gently, wringing cries from her lips, testing the swollen bud of her desire. Slowly, he rubbed back and forth until she gave up and gave him everything she had.

She cried out as convulsions wracked her body and pushed her over the edge. For one single moment in time she flew through space in a channel of pure pleasure. As she floated she was aware of the soothing words whispered in her ear, the arm that anchored her against his chest, the hand that now lovingly stroked her thigh. She relaxed into his body, trusting his strength. She enjoyed being held close by this powerful man who taught her things about life she’d never known. After a while she realized he held himself still. His muscles clenched with tension. She felt him hard against her.

“Logan?” she asked hesitantly.

“Hmmm?”

“What about you?”

She heard the smile behind his words when he spoke. “What about me?”

Chandler turned her head. A faint blush rose to her cheeks. “Well, ummm, I thought we were going to, well, that is I thought you wanted to—” She bit her lip and tried to get the words out.

“Make love with you?” he asked as he turned her body until she was facing him. His lips rubbed over hers and he slipped his tongue inside to taste her. She welcomed him, their tongues playing with each other until they tired of the game and kissed hungrily. When he pulled away, he tipped her chin up and studied her face. “What I just did to you gave me more pleasure than you’ll ever know.” His thumb pressed over her swollen lips. “There’s nothing I want more than to carry you in the bedroom and make love all night long, until both of us don’t know where one begins and the other ends. But I want more. I want you to trust me. I want you to give yourself to me in every possible way, and I won’t settle for less. When I take you into bed there will be no Richard Thorne. No doubts. And no more running away.”

The stark words hung in the air between them. She realized this was one of the strongest men she’d ever known. A surge of emotion caught her. He was a proud man who stood alone in the world, and a ruthless executive who made million dollar deals without breaking a sweat. Yet he chose to show her tenderness, unlike Michael who had told her he loved her, then treated her like a plaything for his own pleasure. Her initiation into sex had shown her none of the softer emotions she longed to receive as a woman from a lover. She decided such bliss mingled with magic existed only in her daydreams.

Logan Grant showed her it was real.

He gave her pleasure while denying himself. He held back when she was vulnerable, and chose to wait until he earned her trust. He gave her fair warning of his intentions, and even if he only wanted an affair, he wanted all of her for that period of time, demanding no less.

Her emotions for Logan went deeper. She was falling in love with him, but if she gave herself tonight she’d be lost. His emotions had nothing to do with love. When their affair was over, she’d have nothing left. He’d break her heart, and she’d be forced to dissolve their business contract, which would destroy the Yoga and Arts Center. She’d be back in the same position she was four years ago. With nothing.

She wasn’t ready to take that kind of risk yet, make that choice.

Logan knew her answer. Confusion shimmered in emerald green eyes, along with wariness, and he told himself to be patient. Things always came with time. Chandler would be his if he waited for her to realize she loved him.

Then he’d have everything.

He smiled. He pulled her against him and held her close. “I didn’t tell you any of this to scare you.” He stroked her hair. “I wanted you to know where I stand.”

“I always knew you were a bully,” she muttered into his chest.

Logan chuckled. “And you, my little free spirit, are one of the most stubborn women I’ve ever met. Now, you better get dressed before all my good intentions go straight to hell.”

Chandler quickly dressed, smiling when he distracted her to place a tender kiss in the valley of her breasts.

He locked up his house and caught her watching him with a thoughtful expression. “What are you thinking about?”

Chandler grinned. “I’ve come up with the perfect addition to my stress workshop.”

He shook his head as they walked to the car. “Still thinking about work, hmmm? So, what’s the new idea?”

As he reached down to unlock the passenger side door she stood on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. “Sex therapy. Guaranteed to reduce stress and tension in the most pleasurable of ways.”

He was still chuckling when he dropped her off at her door.