The Wager

“Flirting.”

“Is that what you think I’m doing?” he asked, amusement in his voice.

“Isn’t it?” she countered. “Those deep, soul-searching looks and all this talk about the color of my eyes when you and I both know that they’re blue. Plain, ordinary blue.”

Josh’s lips curved again. This time slowly, seductively. He leaned forward slightly, which increased the feeling of intimacy between them. “Trust me, Laura. There’s not a man alive who would look at you and ever see anything plain or ordinary about you.”

Laura’s pulse skittered. Her mouth suddenly dry, she reached for her wineglass, clutched it tightly and hoped he didn’t notice the slight tremor in her fingers. She disliked the fact that she was nervous, Laura admitted as she sipped the expensive vintage. She dealt with lots of men in her line of work. Men never made her nervous. Josh didn’t make her nervous. He certainly wasn’t responsible for this light-headed feeling she had or for the butterflies buzzing in her stomach. As she studied him over the rim of her glass, she told herself the way she felt had nothing to do with Josh or the fact that he was handsome and charming, and she found him attractive. No, it wasn’t Josh himself who was responsible for her feeling this way. It was the setting—the candlelight and romantic music. It was the fact that she was lonely and it had been well over a year since she’d been involved in a male-female relationship.

And she was lying through her teeth, Laura conceded. But only a first-rate idiot would buy the line he was feeding her. And she was no idiot. She’d met men like Josh Logan before—gorgeous, charming seducers out for a night or two of fun. And as interesting and attractive as she found Josh, a quick fling wasn’t her style. Yet, sitting here with him now, she almost wished that it was. “You’re a dangerous man, Josh Logan,” she said, giving him her brightest smile. “I can only imagine the long trail of broken hearts you’ve left in your wake down South.”

“Ouch,” he said, slapping a hand against his heart. “Those are some pretty sharp arrows you’re slinging there, Ms. Harte. Do you always shoot a man when he pays you a compliment?”

“Is that what you were doing? Why, I could have sworn you were trying to seduce me.”

She’d meant to make him laugh, had been sure he would find her comeback amusing. Yet the grin died on his lips. His eyes darkened, and she noted for the first time tiny flecks of gold in them. “Believe me, Laura, if I were trying to seduce you, you wouldn’t have to wonder if that’s what I was doing. You would know it.”

Laura’s breath stalled in her lungs. And despite her best efforts to prevent it, excitement shimmied down her spine.

“Are you finished, Ms. Harte?” the waiter asked, saving her from having to respond.

“Yes. I am. Thank you, Stewart.”

Telling herself that she wasn’t a coward for feeling grateful at the interruption, Laura used the opportunity to rein in her emotions. While Stewart cleared away the dishes and recited the dessert menu, Laura attempted to regain her perspective by reminding herself that Josh Logan was her boss’s friend and a man whom she would probably never see again after tonight. Just because she’d been lonely since her mother’s death was no reason to overreact to his innocent flirtation—a flirtation that was no doubt second nature to a man like him. Once the waiter retreated, they both said simultaneously, “I’m sorry.”

She laughed.

So did Josh.

“Well, I’m glad we got that cleared up,” she told him. “Thank you for what you said…about my eyes. It was very sweet of you—which is what I should have said to begin with instead of accusing you of hitting on me. I was out of line and I really am sorry.”

“Since we’re being honest, I suppose I should confess that you weren’t totally off base,” he replied, a wicked and totally unapologetic glint in his eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, I meant what I said. You do have beautiful eyes.”

“But?”

“But I guess I was hitting on you. It wasn’t a conscious thing on my part, but I was coming on to you all the same.”

“I understand,” she said, disappointed because there was a part of her that had wanted to believe he’d been sincere in the things he’d said.

“Is that so?”

“Yes. I know it wasn’t anything personal. It was instinctive—the ‘you’re a man, I’m a woman’ thing.”

Josh frowned as he sat back in his chair and subjected her to one of those scrutinizing looks. “Tell me something, Laura. Do you have a poor opinion of the male population in general or is it just me in particular?”

She caught the edge in his voice, wondered how she had managed to put it there. “Neither.”

“And you, Ms. Harte, can’t lie worth spit.”

“Now, just hang on a minute,” Laura shot back, bristling at his reply.

“No, you hang on,” he told her, and pinned her with a steely look. “What I was trying to say and have obviously done a damn poor job of it is that I’m attracted to you. You’re a smart, interesting woman and I like the fact that you live and breathe this business like I do. I’m also fascinated by the fact that you look at an old hotel like this one and see more than just dollar signs or a lucrative investment. You see the beauty and history that gives the place its soul, that makes it unique. Add to that the fact that you’re a beautiful, sexy woman, and I would have to be dead or have ice in my veins not to hit on you.”

His little speech took the wind right out of her sails. For a full five seconds Laura could do nothing more than stare at him. One thing she was sure of was that Josh Logan wasn’t dead and never in a million years would she even think of suggesting he had ice in his veins. Quite to the contrary, Josh struck her as a man who would be passionate in all aspects of his life.

“Obviously, I’ve shocked you.”

The amusement in his voice nipped at her pride, making her feel like an awkward girl unused to going toe-to-toe with a man like him. Keeping her voice cool, she said, “Not at all. I’m just not sure how to respond. I can’t decide it you were apologizing to me just now or taking another stab at trying to seduce me.”

“Neither. I was simply stating the facts.”

“Thank you for clearing that up for me,” she countered.

“Glad to do it. But there is one thing I think I should clarify.”

The gleam in his eyes, coupled with that handsome face, made her think of fallen angels. Still she asked, “And just what would that be?”

“While I may have admitted that I was hitting on you a few minutes ago, I haven’t tried to seduce you.”

Yet. The unspoken word hung between them like a live wire dangling in a storm, and Laura’s already taut nerves grew even more tense. “I didn’t realize there was a difference.”

The smile he gave her was pure sin. “Believe me, there is. I’d be happy to explain it to you or even demonstrate, if you’d like.”

“That’s all right. I’ll take your word for it,” she said, deciding she’d be wise not to pursue the discussion. While she didn’t consider herself a coward and had enjoyed the verbal volleying with him, she suspected Josh Logan was far better at this male-female thing than she was. So she held out her hand. “Truce?”

“Truce.” But instead of shaking her hand as she’d intended, Josh kissed it. And Laura felt the touch of his lips all the way to her toes.

“It looks like dessert’s arrived,” she said, withdrawing her hand. And while the waiter prepared Bananas Foster table-side, Laura chattered about the restaurant’s other sumptuous dessert offerings.

Once the flaming delicacy had been served and the waiter retreated, Laura decided she’d be wise to avoid any more of the sensual minefields they’d been stumbling across all evening by shifting to a safer topic. “Nick mentioned earlier that both your father and grandfather were hoteliers.”

“That’s right. Gramps was still in his twenties when he built his first hotel. By the time I was born, he owned more than a dozen.”

“And now?” she asked before spooning up a taste of the ice cream.

“Now there are thirty-one hotels that bear the Logan Hotels banner.”

“Very impressive,” Laura said. “How does it feel to be part of a dynasty?”

He chuckled. “I’m not sure dynasty is the word I’d use to describe us Logans.”

“I don’t see why not. You and your family have been very successful in a business that’s extremely competitive.”

“True,” he said as he shoveled up another spoon of ice cream coated with the thick brown-sugar sauce. “But it’s hard thinking of Logan Hotels as a dynasty when I’ve been brought up to think of it as our little family business.”

Laura arched a brow. “Somehow, I don’t think thirty-one hotels classifies as anyone’s little family business.”

“Put like that, I guess it does sound silly. But it’s what we do.”