Chapter 6
“If your delay in answering means you’re trying to think of a more palatable explanation, then don’t bother,” August now told Logan. “Despite being ill earlier, I’m a big girl and have been taking care of myself since the death of my parents four years ago.”
“Maybe you have,” he accepted, crossing the room to unstop the whisky decanter on the side dresser and pour some of the amber liquid into two crystal glasses. “But I still think you’re going to need this.” He handed her one of the glasses.
August’s mouth had gone dry. “Is it that bad?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
Logan raised dark brows as August once again surprised him with that answer. “Just okay?”
“I might not have known you for very long, but even so, I don’t have the impression you’re a man given to exaggeration.” She took a tentative sip of the alcohol before swallowing the remainder down in three gulps, giving a telling grimace as she leaned down to place the empty glass on one of the coffee tables.
His brows rose even higher. “That’s a twenty-one-year-old thousand-pounds-a-bottle single malt whisky you just threw down your throat as if it were lemonade.”
She shrugged. “Not being a whisky connoisseur— You paid a thousand pounds for a bottle of whisky?” She stared at him incredulously.
“For that one, yes.”
She made a face. “Don’t waste any of it by giving it to me again, because I honestly can’t taste the difference between one whisky and another.”
“No?” Logan opened one of the cupboards under the dresser and took out a bottle of the twelve-year-old scotch he used to get himself to sleep at night. He poured some into another glass before handing it to her. “Try it,” he encouraged.
August took a tentative sip. This whisky wasn’t bad but it was certainly nowhere near as smooth as the single malt. “Okay, point taken. I’ll try to show a little more respect the next time someone offers me a glass of aged single-malt whisky. If anyone ever does, which at that price, is doubtful.” She placed the second glass, still half-full of whisky, down on the table beside the empty one. “No more delays, Logan, I want to know what’s going on.”
“You’re tenacious, I’ll give you that.” He made himself comfortable on one of the couches. “You might want to sit down for this,” he invited. “Sit that delectable arse down now, August,” he added in a firmer voice when she continued to stand.
She gave a derisive snort. “Does that voice usually work in getting women to do what you want?”
“Yes.”
“Well, it isn’t working on me. Because I’m not staying long enough to bother making myself comfortable.”
“Sorry to disappoint you.” His tone said he was anything but. “But Rourke and I agreed you’re staying right here, in my apartment, until I say otherwise.”
An angry flush warmed her cheeks. “I don’t give a damn what you and Rourke agreed. It isn’t happening unless I also agree, and I don’t.”
Logan looked completely unperturbed by her outburst. “The elevator doors don’t open this end either unless you use the key code. Do you have that?” he enquired mildly.
August had been far too overwhelmed by her surroundings earlier to take note of the numbers Logan put into the security panel downstairs. “You can’t keep me a prisoner here.”
He took a sip of the malt whisky before answering her. “Sure I can.”
“Why would you even want to?”
“I have my reasons.”
“Which are?” August frowned her frustration, both with Logan’s arrogance and this conversation.
Logan sat forward to place his empty glass down beside hers before standing up. “Whoever attacked Jenna got the wrong woman.”
“That’s pretty obvious,” she scorned. “I’ve known Jenna for years, and she couldn’t possibly have done or know anything that someone would need to beat and torture it out of her.” Her voice broke emotionally.
“The question is, do you?”
August recoiled as Logan loomed over her to pin her in place with his dark-eyed stare. “What the hell does that mean?”
He gave her a sweeping glance from her head to her toes. “I can see how the mistake was made, of course. You and Jenna both have red hair, green eyes, and slender figures. You live at the same address. One of you left the building on Friday evening. You were supposed to go out with the other ladies too but changed your mind.” He marked those facts off on his fingers.
“I told you why I— Wait a minute.” August stilled to stare at him in horror. “Are you saying I was the one who was supposed to be kidnapped and beaten?”
“Yes.”
The color drained from August’s head so quickly, she instantly felt light-headed again. She definitely swayed on her feet and had to reach out and grasp the arm of the couch to stop herself from toppling over. “That can’t be right.” She gave a shake of her head. “I don’t… I haven’t… Why would anyone want to abduct and do that to me?” It made even less sense than Jenna’s abduction. At least Jenna had wealthy relatives; August had no one.
“That’s something we need to sit down and figure out.” Logan retrieved the glass of whisky from the table and held it out to her. “I think you need to drink some more of this before we go any further.”
August didn’t even taste the fiery liquid this time or feel the burn as it settled in her stomach. “What makes you think they mistook Jenna for me?”
Logan took away the empty glass. “Because that’s what Jenna told Rourke earlier before the meds took effect and she fell into a drug-induced sleep.”
August closed her eyes to stop the room from spinning. “But Rourke… He said…” She opened her eyes. “Is that why the two of you went outside the room at the hospital, so he could tell you the truth?”
“Yes.”
This couldn’t be right. August didn’t know anyone, hadn’t done anything, to warrant being abducted and… “Oh God, Jenna is in that state because of something I did or said!” She pressed her palms into her eyes to stop the fresh tears from falling.
“Come here.” Logan’s arms closed around her before he sat on one of the couches, taking her with him so that she was seated sideways on his thighs, his arms about her waist and her head resting against his chest. “We’ll work it out, August. Whatever this is about, you don’t have to deal with it alone,” he promised gruffly. “You’re Jenna’s friend, and that means you’re now under the protection of all the Steele family.”
The beating of Logan’s heart against her ear was a reassuring sound as August finally gave in to her emotions and cried until she was sure there was no more liquid left in her body to cry.
Someone had mistaken Jenna for her.
Jenna had been abducted because those men believed she was August.
Those two men had tortured Jenna, broken her bones, because they thought she was August.
What right did they have to do any of that?
Absolutely none!
“Fucking bastards,” August muttered angrily as she sat up to impatiently wipe the tears from her cheeks.
“I trust that remark isn’t aimed at me or any of my brothers,” Logan murmured, gently caressing loose tendrils of silky hair away from August’s red and tear-stained face.
“I was referring to the men who attacked Jenna, but I’m pretty sure you and your brothers can all be complete bastards too, when the situation warrants it.” Her eyes narrowed to glittering slits. “In fact, I hope when you meet up with those two men, that’s exactly what you are. They both need to know what it feels like to be beaten and have their bones broken.”
Logan held back a smile at her vehemence. August looked so fierce right now, he knew she wouldn’t appreciate any show of humor on his part. Any more than she would enjoy knowing he thought she looked cute when she was angry. Or the warmth he felt in his chest at her utter conviction he would find the men who had hurt Jenna.
“That’s more like it,” he admired. “Don’t get sad, get mad.”
Her eyes flashed a dark green, her lips set in a thin line. “I’m beyond mad, I’m fucking furious! I want to rip those men limb from limb. Tie them up and see how they like feeling helpless before punching them in the face until they look as battered and bruised as Jenna does.”
“You’re fucking scary is what you are.” Logan’s gave an appreciative chuckle. “Note to myself: never get on the wrong side of August.”
“I’d be more inclined to kiss you than hurt you if you manage to find and punish the men who did this to Jenna.”
“I think I’d rather take that thanks now,” Logan encouraged throatily, his arms tightening about August as he lowered his head to capture her lips with his own.
It wasn’t the time or the place, but it was definitely something Logan had been wanting to do since Rourke told him August was the one those two men had meant to take. A reaffirmation, maybe, that August, at least, hadn’t been harmed.
What the hell?
He didn’t even know August Harvey. Hadn’t even set eyes on her until earlier today. Haydn was the one who dealt with the security of the family, including Jenna’s.
Nor did Logan know the depth of August’s involvement in what had happened to Jenna.
Or why it had happened at all.
Maybe he shouldn’t get any more involved with August until—
Fuck!
The tentative, almost shy sweep of August’s tongue against his bottom lip caused him to groan and pull her in even closer against him as his lips parted wider to deepen the kiss.
She tasted delicious, sweet but slightly salty from the tears she had cried earlier. Her mouth was a hot vortex, pulling him in and causing his already aroused cock to throb almost painfully against the zip of his jeans, her hands caressing his shoulders before her fingers became entangled in the hair at his nape.
Right here and right now, Logan didn’t give a damn if August was involved in this mess up to her beautiful neck. He wanted her. Now. Naked. Beneath him. With his aching cock buried so deep inside her, she would continue to feel him there for days afterward. It was—
Logan gave a groan of protest, his arms instantly dropping back onto the arms of the chair as he felt August’s hands pushing against his chest rather than having her fingers entangled in his hair as they had been seconds ago.
She wrenched her mouth from his, breathing hard, her cheeks flushed as she scrambled to her feet and moved away from him. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have… That shouldn’t have happened.” Her gaze didn’t meet his before she turned and walked over to the windows to stare out over the London skyline.
Logan rose lazily to his feet, taking advantage of August’s back being turned toward him to adjust the erection in his jeans.
This woman was full of surprises.
It was certainly the first time any woman had apologized for kissing him. “We still need to try to figure out what’s going on with these men and why they wanted you.”
August heard Logan, she was just too shaken by what had happened between the two of them—again—to answer him immediately.
What had she been thinking? Had she even been thinking at all to have responded so readily to Logan? Perhaps it was the whisky she had consumed that was responsible—
No.
August wasn’t going to start lying to herself. Much as Logan annoyed and irritated her, there was no denying he also aroused and excited her. She had wanted Logan to kiss her and to be able to kiss him back. A kiss that had affected her more deeply than she had thought possible. She could still feel Logan’s lips on hers, taste him on her tongue, and feel his arms about her holding her captive against the hardness of his chest, along with the throb of his aroused cock pressing into her thigh.
Maybe the whisky wasn’t responsible for her feeling those things, but she had no doubt that the heightened emotions from the events of the evening had something to do with her need for that physical closeness. Logan’s reasons were his own, but August doubted, even as hardened and cynical as he was, that Logan was immune to the relief of having Jenna returned to them alive.
August had no doubt that what had happened between herself and Logan just now had been a basic need in both of them, a reaffirmation of life and of being alive, much the same as people felt after a death or attending a funeral.
Admittedly, neither of those things had happened, and Rourke had assured her Jenna would make a full recovery. But that extreme fear for Jenna, followed by an equal amount of relief at finding her alive, had to have heightened everyone’s emotions. If it had been Rourke here with her, the same thing might have happened—
Again, no!
Much as Rourke might look like Logan, and was one hundred percent more charming than his twin. August felt absolutely no attraction toward him. She liked what she knew about Rourke, and she knew she could quite easily have attended the exhibition at the gallery this weekend on the arm of such a suave and sophisticated man. But Logan, even annoying as he was, was the man August was completely physically aware of and desired. She almost laughed out loud, and did find herself smiling a little, at the imagined expression on the face of the owner of the gallery, Edward Jervis, if she brought the unpredictable and casually dressed Logan as her date to the invitation-only exhibition this weekend.
“Care to share the joke?”
August glanced at Logan as he stood beside her. “Honestly? No.” She answered her own question before drawing in a deep breath. “You said we need to try to figure out why those men could possibly have wanted to abduct me,” she reminded briskly.
This woman was turning out to be a constant surprise, Logan acknowledged with an inward grimace. Also one who refused to be distracted. Having her staying here with him in his apartment until this situation was sorted out was going to be sheer bloody torture when his instincts told him to kiss her into submission.
Something that hadn’t worked for him so far.