Logan

Darcy Westbury had me acting like a nerdy teenager, chasing after the most popular girl in school. “Hey, Darcy,” I said, trying to catch up as she strode along the main street of the village. It had taken longer than I’d expected to extract myself at the end of the meeting, and it had meant Darcy had left before I’d had a chance to speak to her. Not that I had anything particular to say.

She didn’t stop. She didn’t even slow down. “Hey,” I said as I reached her. “Great meeting. I didn’t know you were a member.”

“What do you want, Logan?” she asked.

What did I want? To get her attention? To tease her? I didn’t know my own mind. “To catch up. Chat. We’re friends, aren’t we? I certainly hope we are.” That was bound to rile her up and get me attention—two birds with one stone.

“Friends? Last time I saw you, you kidnapped me.”

I chuckled. She was so dramatic. “You were yelling, and I had to get to a meeting. I was happy to let you vent, but I needed to travel while you did.”

“It’s just your world, and we live in it, isn’t it?”

“I could have left without you, but I didn’t. Because I like you—though I prefer you when you’re not shouting at me.”

She stumbled as we made our way across the bridge over the river and I grabbed her arm to steady her, catching a strain of her fresh, floral scent, but she just shrugged me off.

“Well, I don’t like you.”

I wasn’t sure if that were true now, but I knew that at one point it had been different. “Didn’t seem that way when you were kissing me.”

She stopped still on the pathway and shook her head before carrying on. “Money can’t buy you manners. No gentleman would ever bring that up.” She sounded disappointed in me or herself—I wasn’t sure. I preferred her mad.

“Why on earth not? There’s no one here but us, and we both know it happened.”

“I’d rather forget about it, if you don’t mind.”

I brought my palm to my chest. “You’re breaking my heart.”

I wasn’t entirely sure, but I thought a small smile crossed her lips. To cover it up, she sighed. “What do you want, Logan?”

“To talk to you. To see you home. I’ve not had any one-on-one time with you for almost a week.” Of course, I was teasing her. But it was sort of true. I found her fascinating. Passionate. Ready to stand behind what she believed. People were rarely so open with me. In business, I had to remove knives from my back on a regular basis, but Darcy had clutched the dagger and tried to stick it into my chest.

It made for a refreshing change.

And she was an excellent kisser. I couldn’t remember the last time when a kiss had stuck in my mind so long. Maybe it was the way her body yielded under my touch, the way my skin seemed to ignite when I touched her or the way she smelled of freshly mowed grass and lime blossom. She was all fire on the outside and cool breeze on the inside, and I wanted to dive in and experience it all.

“I’m perfectly capable of seeing myself home, and I’ve had enough one-on-one time with you to last a lifetime.”

“Now that’s not a very friendly thing to say,” I teased, amused by the way she was trying to get away from me by walking so quickly.

“Well, that’s because we’re not friends.”

“And I can’t quite work out why not. There aren’t many people our age in Woolton Village. We should at least try to be friends.”

“I’ll be friends with you when you drop these ridiculous plans for your private members’ club.”

“That’s just business. Nothing to do with friendship.”

She shook her head as she continued her march back to Woolton Hall. “That’s the point. You think the two can be separated. You don’t get that your business impacts our whole way of life, and worse, you just don’t care.”

How could I convince her that Manor House Club could enhance life in Woolton? “It’s not going to be a dump, you know. The bar and restaurant are going to be top quality and the landscaping is going to be beautiful. It’ll attract wealthy people with money to spend locally. And those same people will hopefully be inspired and invest in the area. Why don’t you keep an open mind?”

“Insults, calling me closed-minded—you’ve got a funny way of being my friend. Those aren’t the kind of accusations friends make of each other.”

She didn’t let me get away with anything. “Okay, so the deal is we can’t be friends unless my plans fail at the Parish Council meeting next week? But if that happens, we can?”

“Why would you want to be friends with me if I beat you?”

I didn’t think she’d beat me. But even if she did, I didn’t want there to be bad blood between us. And if I offered an olive branch, when I beat her she might let bygones be bygones. I never gave a second thought to the enemies I made in business. But I didn’t want to be enemies with someone like Darcy. Yes, she was a neighbor and my grandmother liked her but it was more than that. Wanting to be…friends with Darcy wasn’t just practical. I liked what I saw, and I wanted to know more. “I just figure there must be layers.”

“Everyone has layers,” she said, waving at a woman who was pushing a buggy on the other side of the road.

Always an answer for everything. “You’re right. But I’m not interested in most people’s layers.”

“If I tell you we can be friends if I beat you, will you leave me in peace?”

I chuckled. I really must be irritating her, but instead of that wanting to make me back off, it only made me want to know more about her.

“You’d get a temporary reprieve. How’s that for a compromise?”

“I’ll take it.” She rolled her eyes. “Then yes, we can be friends when I beat you. Now, skedaddle and leave me in peace.”

I wanted to reach out, stroke her hair or claim a kiss, but I resisted. “Finally, a consolation prize worth having.”

She chuckled and shook her head. “Unbelievable. You need a refund from that charm school you went to. I’m a consolation prize?”

“That’s not what I meant.” I touched her shoulder, but she shrugged me off. “And if I win? Then what?” She challenged me at every turn—not just on my plans but what I said, how I said it. She was hard work. And I liked it.

“Then I hate you for the rest of my life.”

“That seems overly harsh. Murderers normally only get fifteen years.”

“Seriously, I don’t understand why you want to be my friend,” she replied. “And I don’t understand why you think I’d want to be yours when you’re trying to do something that goes against everything I stand for. Everything I’ve spent my life working against.”

When she said it like that, my actions made no sense. Perhaps I was just far too used to getting what I wanted, and right now, I wanted the development of Badsley, I wanted her. She was the antithesis of my life in London. Of the women there. The perfect English rose—pale skin, no makeup. Jeans with a smear of mud. I bet she’d never seen the inside of the gym. So, what had me so bewitched?

“It looks like that Parish Council meeting will be a win-win for me,” I said. “I get Manor House Club, or I get you.”

She stopped, an incredulous look in her eyes. “You don’t get me.” She started walking again. “I’m not some kind of object you can win.”

“That came out wrong—it was supposed to be a compliment.”

“And even if you win, don’t think you’re going to flutter those long eyelashes and have me dropping my knickers.”

Interesting. “So you’ve been examining my long eyelashes.”

“No. I mean. Eyelashes are normally…yours are a normal length.”

I chuckled as she struggled to explain. It seemed Miss Westbury’s feathers were capable of being ruffled.

“I’m just saying that your flirting won’t work on me.”

I hoped that wasn’t true. I might have to work harder, but somehow I’d find a way to break down her walls. “Hey, you were the one to mention your knickers dropping. I only talked about friendship. Dinner maybe.”

We got to a fence with a stile and we stopped. “Good luck with your plans, Mr. Steele. I’ll continue the rest of my journey alone, as this is Westbury land.” She stepped up onto the stile and across the fence.

“Well, you’re welcome to trespass on my land anytime you like. You and your horse, that is,” I called as she headed across the field, her tangle of hair lifted by the breeze, her round, firm arse wiggling as she went. “I’ll take that as a yes to dinner if I lose at the council meeting.”

If the Parish Council meeting didn’t go my way next week, dinner with Darcy would likely more than make up for it. With the women I normally slept with, our relationships were as businesslike as any meeting or negotiation, but with Darcy, there was no separation between personal and professional. Her business was completely personal to her. And I liked that. I got it. As much as she thought developing Manor House Club was all margins and money to me, it was the most personal thing I’d ever tried to do. It was why I was determined that the council would approve my plans.