“I feel like a penguin,” he whispered, brown eyes shining.
“You two are the mostdeliciouscouple,” crowed the heiress. “I follow all the gossip blogs and I could just eat you up. Can I? Just a little taste?” She burst into raucous laughter.
Logan gave her a tight smile and grasped my chair, waiting for me to sit. “I’m afraid we’re off-menu, Mrs. Vandergriff.”
That only made her laugh more wickedly.Clocking Vandergriff, I noted.Loud.Interest bordering on prurient.
Once we were settled and waiters appeared at our elbows offering not only red wine, but white wine and champagne—I stifled a squeal that the exact same scene had occurred inThe Prince’s Secret—talk at the table turned to the economy and I gave myself permission to check out. I let my eyes wander over the salad course, taking in the beauty of the towering floral arrangements. This place would make a wonderful setting for a children’s book—maybe about a group of spunky orphans growing up in a castle together. They would be given a mission to save the world from a brawny evil villain who, in my imagination, looked remarkably like Governor Mane.
Logan gently brushed my elbow when our entrees arrived: a beautiful roast chicken for me, mushroom risotto for him. “So,” he murmured. “How’s Dr. Laderman?”
I studied his face, looking for a hint of anger, but he only wore a smile. Behind his eyes was that emotion I could sense but not name.
“Fine,” I said cautiously. “We’re being careful about staying private.”
Logan nodded, eyes dropping to my hands in my lap. I realized I was fidgeting and stilled.
“I love watching you two together,” Mrs. Vandergriff burst, interrupting a point the financier had been making about the market. “You remind me of these little dolls I had when I was a child. Mummy had them shipped in for me from Austria. I used to make them kiss and have little weddings.”
Yikes. Upgrading Mrs. Vandergriff from prurient to off her rocker. Maybe growing up so wealthy you could have dolls flown in from Austria did that to a person.
“Thanks,” Logan grunted, looking anything but thankful.
“I want to see you kiss,” Mrs. Vandergriff pouted.
“Oh, no,” I said. “We don’t—no PDA.”
The financier cleared his throat and launched back into his subject. Nora leaned over to Logan and me. “Be nice,” she hissed. “That woman is a mega-donor.”
Logan gritted his teeth, but I gulped. The last thing I needed to do was put Logan’s campaign in any more jeopardy. “Roger that,” I whispered to Nora, and she backed off.
“How’ve you been since the bachelorette?” Logan whispered. “We missed you at the last strategy meeting.”
“Oh, please, just one kiss, I’m begging,” Mrs. Vandergriff called, but I pretended not to hear.
“Nora said I could skip it. I had...plans.” I swallowed guiltily. That had been the night of my second date with Will.
It seemed Logan could read the truth in my eyes. “Right. Of course.”
“One measly kiss for an old woman,” said Mrs. Vandergriff, lifting her empty champagne glass for a refill.
Logan gave her another forced smile, shaking his head. “I’m not a marionette, Mrs. Vandergriff. I don’t dance for coins.”
“Logan,” Nora warned.
“This roast chicken is delicious,” I said, forcing cheeriness. “Anyone else loving it?”
Logan turned back to me. “You don’t want to take a step back, do you?” He studied my face. “I mean, from the campaign.”
“The signature Arthur gruffness,” Mrs. Vandergriff swooned, so loud she startled everyone except her husband, whose upper lip trembled as he softly snored. “What I wouldn’t give to be fifty years younger—”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Logan snapped. The whole table stilled and Nora’s eyes flew open in horror. “One more—”
I seized his face and kissed him.
I could feel my own surprise at what I’d done mirrored back at me through Logan. For an agonizing second, he was frozen. I started to pull back until I heard the faintest growl, the sound coming from low in his throat, frustration or desire, I couldn’t tell. And then Logan cupped my face and pulled me closer. He kissed me like he was a starved man, twining his fingers in my hair, tugging me toward him with such urgency I practically tipped out of my chair. In a moment of recklessness, I returned his kiss just as fiercely, wanting nothing more than for this bubble of time to last.Fiction, I told myself.Only a convincing fiction.
Logan wrenched away from me, breathing heavy, his eyes searching mine and then flicking around the table. Only then did I look at our audience. Our quiet, stunned audience.
