‘Yes. The rest is downstairs in your office.’
She leaned forward and kissed him lightly and then once more to savour him. ‘Safe journey, Mr Black. Be happy.’ Then she pulled him into a fierce hug and closed her eyes and memorised the feel of being in his arms. ‘I’m happy. You need to know that I wouldn’t have missed one moment of this past week. With you.’
His arms tightened around her, but he didn’t speak, just buried his face in the curve of her neck, breathing in deep before slowly letting go.
And then he picked up his bag and Evie closed her eyes so that she didn’t have to see the set of his shoulders or the shape of his resolve as he headed for the stairs.
She’d done all she could. It was up to him now.
Evangeline Jones knew exactly how to love hard and with no regrets.
She needed a man bold enough to do the same.
LOGAN couldn’t get Evie out of his head. The long hours of travel couldn’t shift her. The mountain of work that awaited him upon his return served only to make him more aware of how much he wanted her around after the day’s work was done. One week after his return to London and he couldn’t look at his bed without thinking of what Evie would look like in it. Passion-blind and soaring. Shiny-slick and smiling in the aftermath. He missed the brush of her shoulder against his as she cooked in her kitchen. Being in her space; having her invade his. He hadn’t just tolerated it. He’d embraced it. A sucker for a soft touch, she’d teased him. Or a hard touch.
Any kind of touch as long as it was hers.
Only hers.
He didn’t know what to do with a need so fierce and large. Didn’t know how to make her a part of his life without demanding too much. Didn’t know how to balance Evie’s needs with his fear of one day losing control of his own desires and going too far. Of becoming possessive and controlling. Abusive. So many different ways to reach inside a person and tear them apart.
He’d texted her when he’d arrived back in London. ‘Home,’ he’d written.
And got a smiley face text in reply.
That was good, right? Not too needy or greedy on either side. Letting Evie get on with her life without him stomping all over it. Letting him get on with his.
No obsession here.
No overwhelming need to have her by his side.
Except that with each passing day Logan’s need to hear Evie’s voice and feel her touch grew stronger.
He lasted a week. One week before he rang his brother during Max’s working day on the pretext of getting Max’s opinion on converting an outer London warehouse into residential units. Max’s speciality, not his. Was Max interested in taking on the project? Developing an international profile?
Was Evie?
‘Since when have you been interested in redevelopment projects?’ came his brother’s guarded reply.
‘Since staying with Evie in her warehouse apartment,’ he countered. ‘I didn’t mind the experience.’
‘Well, aren’t you the lucky one?’ said Max with unmistakeable bite. ‘Did it ever occur to you that the reason you liked the warehouse apartment experience was because of the woman involved?’
‘If you’re not interested, all you have to do is say so,’ countered Logan coolly.
Silence from Max’s end. ‘I’ll talk it over with Evie,’ he said grudgingly. ‘I don’t know that we’re ready to take the company international. You looking to move on the warehouse fast?’
‘Don’t have to. Just letting you know it’s there. Any news on the civic centre bid?’
‘Looks promising,’ said Max. ‘There are three bids left on the table and one of them is ours.’
‘Good,’ said Logan. ‘Good. What do you know about Sinclair House?’
‘You mean Mum’s latest charity? It’s a safe house for victims of domestic abuse. She goes there once a fortnight and helps with meals or something. Why?’
‘She hit me up for a donation. Apparently they need a new roof.’ But Max’s answer had piqued Logan’s interest more than it had settled it. ‘What do you mean she goes there once a fortnight?’
‘Just what I said.’
‘She needs to stop that. It’s not safe.’
‘It’s a safe house, Logan. Heavy on the security windows and doors. Six-foot fences.’
‘Yeah, and it’s full of God knows who.’
‘Mostly battered women and children, from what I can gather. What exactly do you think they’re going to do?’
Logan shook his head. This was the difference between him and Max. Max had no goddamn idea what people were capable of. ‘Desperate people do desperate things.’
‘Yeah, and they also need help. What do you want me to do, Logan? Tell her to stop? That’d work on her almost as well as it works on you. You talk to her if you’re that concerned about it. Heaven knows she treasures every last scrap of attention you throw her.’
‘Hey, you’re the favourite.’
‘You know what? For all your legendary business acumen you’re one blind son of a bitch.’
‘Language, little brother.’
‘Screw you. Don’t start with me, Logan, or I’ll serve it straight back at you. Matter of fact I’m going to anyway. Why haven’t you called Evie? Which, by the way, she predicted.’
‘What do you mean predicted?’
‘I mean when I asked her if she’d heard from you she said no, that wasn’t part of the deal. What the hell kind of deal is that?’
‘Look, Max—’
‘Don’t you “look, Max” me. You spend a week inside a woman’s skin, she opens up her home to you and her life to you and a week later you can’t be bothered to give her five minutes of your precious time? What is wrong with you?’
‘Nothing! I was just … giving her some space.’ A gaping pit was beginning to form in Logan’s stomach at the thought that something might have happened to her. ‘Is she all right?’
‘Evie’s fine, Logan. Just peachy, thanks for asking. She does her work, she goes to the beach, she bought a Ducati road bike that goes from zero to one hundred in six point nine seconds, but don’t let that alarm you. She’s taking road-safety lessons from a former AMA Motocross champion called Duke, but don’t let that bother you either. His manners are impeccable and he knows how to use a phone.’
‘Hey, hold the PMS.’
‘You deserve the PMS. You’re treating a woman I respect and admire like a whore and she’s letting you. Doesn’t make it right.’
‘If I’d wanted a sermon I’d have gone to church.’
‘Go to hell, Logan. I vouched for you. I practically threw Evie at you, and this is how you repay me? By using her up and walking away without a backward glance? My business partner. My friend. And your loss. I’ll give your regards to Duke.’
And then Max hung up on him.
‘Who’s Duke?’ asked Evie as she strode into MEP’s outer office, head down and preoccupied, but not so unconscious that she hadn’t caught the way Max had