Not Another Valentine Story

LAUREN

As Sir towered over her, much taller than she remembered, the butterflies in her stomach went crazy, and she stepped back, bumping into the desk. Her face flamed as she tried to use her tongue to speak, but it stuck to the roof of her mouth.

He sauntered forward, his hands in his pockets and his face a mask of perfection and disdain as it moved in and out of the shadows.

Lauren swallowed hard.

Staring at her like he was either going to have her arrested or order her to her knees, he said, “Looking for something?” His strong, dominant voice echoed in the empty space.

Her fantasy had not done his voice justice, and she shivered as it melted into her skin, warming her body.

Sir cleared his throat, bringing her mind back into focus, and asked, “What are you looking for in my office?”

Lauren slumped, leaning on the desk. Of course it was his office. Of course he was Logan Hawke. Of course tonight of all nights he would come here.

The curse had struck again.

“Shit, sorry. I was just, uh… I was…” Lauren struggled to find the words that wouldn’t get Shana in trouble. “I was just helping Shana with something.”

Logan took deliberate steps toward her, entering a shadow, the silhouette of his head shaking. “No,” he said. “You’re spying.”

His accusation made her chuckle.

She was the least stealthy person ever; being a spy was definitely not something she could pull off. “What gave it away? Was it the jeans? Or the way I told the security guard who I was and what I was doing?” Lauren teased, hoping to ease the tension.

He didn’t find it amusing, and Lauren’s smirk fell away as soon as his face came back into the glow of the city outside. She sucked in a breath at his appearance in this light, at the angles the shadows created on his face.

Handsome, pretty, gorgeous, beautiful—the words didn’t fit. They were too tame for Logan Hawke. He was raw, masculine, dominant, and intimidating. Everything that made her heart race.

She swallowed hard as he looked her up and down with a calculating gaze of his piercing eyes.

“How do you know Shana?” he asked.

“I’m her roommate. Lauren Landon. Shana has a date and needed my help,” she said, standing straight and reaching for her purse. “And now that I’m done, I’ll go.”

Logan took a quick step forward, pulling his hands out of his pockets. “Not so fast.”

A wall of expensive cologne hit Lauren’s nose, causing her to stumble backward into the desk and drop her purse. Her body reacted immediately to his nearness, butterflies dancing and electricity zapping, and she gripped the edge of the desk as she leaned against it.

His lips tugged to one side. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t call security and have you removed. Or prosecuted.”

Regaining her composure at that last word, she grabbed her purse. “Because I’m leaving anyway,” she said. “Good night, Mr. Hawke.” She stepped to the side to walk around him, and he didn’t stop her.

Instead, he said, “Oh? Going back to your hot date from the restaurant?”

Lauren scoffed and cocked her head. “And what about your hot date? Why aren’t you with her right now?”

Logan took a step back—he actually seemed flustered—and his eyes flicked toward the ceiling behind her. “I’m a busy man, not much time for dates. Work doesn’t care what day it is, so neither should I.”

Nodding, she said, “Yes, work.” Lauren sighed, her face softening. “I get that. I’m a busy woman myself.”

They locked eyes, and time stood still as the visions of what could be flashed in her mind. The sex they could have, the orgasms he could give her, the future they could build.

But could she do that with Logan Hawke?

Even if a relationship were possible with a notorious playboy, and even if it worked out, her name would disappear behind his, behind his ego and reputation. Her events would no longer be hers, and she was just beginning to make a name for herself away from her dad’s.

She would not give that up; she’d worked too hard, paid too high a price.

But did she want to keep paying it?

Lauren had been fine with her life and accepted that price for her career, but now that he’d come along, she had doubts. Maybe she wasn’t as content with her vibrator as she’d thought.

She didn’t like having these doubts—Logan’s extreme good looks were confusing her thoughts. Any relationship with him wouldn’t work out well for her, so she had to get that out of her mind.

Wanting to get away from his intoxicating presence, she took a step back, breaking their eye contact. “Well,” she said, “I’ll be going now.”

Putting his hands back in his pockets, he once again sauntered toward her. “All right, Lauren Landon.” He stretched out the words, enunciating every syllable.

Her name said in that voice coming from those lips on that face glued her feet to the carpet. She couldn’t move as he drew nearer, close enough that his heat reached her. Desire stirred inside her, and she pushed it down with a strained gulp.

Logan fixed his eyes on her, then extended a hand. “It was nice to meet you.”

The magnetism between them pulled her to take a step closer, almost making her want to throw caution to the wind and beg him to play out her fantasy. But she held firm.

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Hawke,” she said, taking his hand, his touch igniting a fire inside her that warmed her cheeks.

He leaned down, suffocating her with his cologne and muddling up her thoughts with his utter maleness. “Please, call me Logan,” he said, his whiskey breath blowing onto her face.

Her knees buckled, but she steadied herself just as quickly. He didn’t miss it, though. One corner of his lips turned up in a smile. And that smirk drove away the fog of lust clouding Lauren’s mind.

Logan Hawke knew exactly what effect he had on women, with his perfect face, body, and social standing. He was the king of one-night stands; he’d done this same thing to thousands of women.

And Lauren was falling for it, hook, line, and sinker, just like those other girls.

But why shouldn’t she be able to enjoy him? To feel his touch on her skin, his arms around her, him inside her? If a relationship were off the table, why couldn’t she have this one night?

Logan stood straight and released her hand, then he took a step back. Her core whimpered, wanting him closer, not farther away, and she decided to act on her impulse to give in to her desire for one night only. She opened her mouth to speak, but he did instead.

“Goodbye, Lauren.” He stepped around Shana’s desk and moved toward his office.

Her heart dropped as he turned his back to her. Knowing she’d lost her moment, she allowed her feet to take her to the elevator. “Goodbye, Logan.”

She watched him until he reached the double doors, but a flashing light caught her attention. Squinting at it in the darkness, Lauren realized it was a camera.

He saw me, she thought. ~He saw me here at Shana’s desk. That’s why he left his date.~ Her eyes snapped back to him. ~He chose me over his Valentine’s date?~

Logan was standing in front of the doors, his head bowed and one hand gripping a handle.

Is he going to say something? Tell me to stop? Ask me to stay? Lauren recognized the Hallmark-movie-ness of her thoughts and mentally scoffed at herself. Then she scolded herself for letting them get to that level.

Taking the last few steps to the elevator, Lauren called it up and waited, refusing to look back at his office doors. Just when it dinged its arrival, Logan’s deep voice drifted from across the open space.

“Hey, Lauren,” he said.

She turned her head to look at him.

“We should fuck.”