Diamonds & Desire: The Priceless Collection (8 page)

Logan clenched his jaw. Hell, she was his friend. He should be the one making her laugh. As the guys leaped off their feet with shouts and hollers when the contender slammed an overhand right, Logan remained in his seat, sulking.

When he realized Neil was staring at him with a knowing half-smile, he forced his attention to the TV.

Later on, he went to make a drink, a strong one, when Miranda came bounding up to him in a hushed whisper. “So glad you invited Jordana. I like her a lot.”

He dropped a whiskey stone in his glass and poured generously. “I’m not surprised. I liked her first.”

“I’m for sure going to set her up. I have so many guys she’d be perfect for.”

Here it comes. Miranda already thinking of all the available men to pimp. “You barely know her.”

“What else is there to know? She’s fun to be around, witty. Lots of gorgeous hair, works for a doctor. As long as she hasn’t escaped prison, she’s prime time girlfriend material.”

All that was true, however, he didn’t relish the thought of Miranda playing matchmaker. “Don’t talk about her like she’s real estate. And not every single woman wants to be shackled in matrimony like you.”

She eyed him with suspicion, looking at Jordana, then back. “What’s with you? You were lying when you said she was just a friend, weren’t you?”

“No.”

“Then why do you care if I set her up with someone? You sound jealous.”

Why did he care? In fact, if she did start seeing someone, then it might relieve him of his desire for her.

On second thought, scratch that. Picturing a guy coming in and sweeping her off her feet hollowed his gut. His conviction was beginning to slip. “Come on, Miranda, you know me. Match her up all you want…I couldn’t care less.” Oh the lies we tell ourselves.

“Are you sure? You’d make a cute couple. In fact, I could definitely see you two together.”

“How many times do I have say the word friends?” To her, and himself?

“All right. Well, no matter what you say, if she’s interested, I’m playing cupid.” She clinked her glass with his and walked away.

After the fight was over, everyone lingered for a drink or two, then started to filter out. While he walked his friends to the door, he noticed Miranda had pulled Jordana to the side.

Neil chuckled as he sauntered up to him, shrugging on his jacket. “My God man, try to look a little less obvious.”

He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“That your whole ‘we’re just friends’ was self-denial mumbo jumbo. I don’t know why you’re even bothering with this front. You’ve wanted her from the first minute you saw her. Tell her and get it over with.”

He shot Neil a look. “Keep your voice down, will you?”

“Just saying, she won’t be single long. Are you really going to let Drew take her out?”

He jerked his gaze to Neil’s. “He asked her out?”

Neil clicked his cheek. “Got ya. Man, you’re easy. If he hasn’t, he will.”

Nice trick move, but he let it slide. “And in the meantime, Miranda is going to have her engaged by New Year’s. Why does every married woman think every single woman wants to be in a relationship?”

Neil slapped a hand on his shoulder. “The majority do. Better act fast, my friend. And quit pretending you don’t want her. You suck at it.”

The lawyer had a point. As Neil walked out, Miranda approached with Phillip. “Good party, Logan. Have you found a date for the Bridges of Marin County gala yet?”

“I haven’t really thought about it. I’m sure Ashtyn will remind me plenty between now and then.”

“Fine. Just be sure you don’t bail on it this year. You know how much that charity means to me.”

“I promise to make an appearance. You have my word.” He kissed her cheek.

“Lovely. And bring a date I can stand.”

An idea sprung to mind as he glanced at Jordana.

Philip shook his hand. “Thanks for hosting. Great fight, huh?”

Was it? He barely looked at the TV. “Yeah. See you two later.”

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Drew said to Jordana as he and Ronnie, his neighbor, approached the door.

Just as she was about to step outside with them, he touched her shoulder. “How about a tour of the house before you go?”

She grinned. “I’d love that.”

“Great.” He slammed the door in his friends’ faces. “‘Night guys.”

***

Jordana hadn’t been nervous all night.

Until now.

Alone with Logan and with no one around to keep her distracted. She’d felt his eyes on her throughout the evening, but whenever she tried to meet his gaze, he dragged it away. Maybe he didn’t appreciate her giving her attention to Drew. Could he have been jealous? Well, she wished she could tell him she wasn’t interested in his friend if that was the case. Perhaps Logan was beginning to see her as less of a pal and more of the woman he wanted at the charity. One could hope. She followed him as he started the tour.

“This is the dining room,” he said as he switched on the light. “I should really turn it into something useful. I rarely eat in here.”

“But it’s such a beautiful space,” she complimented, admiring the glossy black piano silhouetted against the demilune bay window. The walls were a rich, earthy green with contrasting white-trimmed fireplace against the east wall. An antique French mirror hung above, flanked by 1920s style sconces. What she guessed was a modern walnut table looked to be paired with Louis XIII-style chairs dressed in cream slipcovers. She once spent a summer working in a furniture store back home and could admire vintage touches. “The window faces west. I bet when the sun sets, it’s lovely in here. Why would you decorate it and never use it?”

“The room was like this when I bought the house, so I can’t take credit. And I’m usually at the office when the sun sets.”

“What a shame.”

“Not really. My office has a nice view, too.”

She gave him a chastising smile. “Do you play?” she asked gesturing to the piano.

“I can, if forced. My mom insisted I learn an instrument, and at the age of ten I picked piano. After high school, I sort of let it go. It’s a little excessive to have when I neglect it so often, but I was so used to having a piano in the house, it felt empty without one.”

“Got a favorite you like to play? Mozart? Beethoven?”

“The Forrest Gump theme song.”

She laughed as they moved on. Next he showed her his den, his library with a pool table, the ridiculous cinema room with stadium seating, and outside to his saltwater pool.

“What do you think?” he asked as they stepped back inside.

“It’s the biggest bachelor pad I’ve ever seen, but it’s pretty.”

“Pretty bachelor pad. Kind of an oxymoron, but I’ll accept that.” He grinned.

She smiled, tucking her hands in her back pockets. “It’s a lot of space for one man.”

“I like my space.”

“And I like your friends.”

“You sound as if you weren’t expecting to.”

“You never know! Normal people have weird friends all the time.”

He chuckled. “I know they liked you, too. Especially Miranda. Did she, uh, ask if she could set you up on blind dates?”

“Actually, she did.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Do I scream desperate for a date or something?”

“No, she just likes to be the master of love lives. Sorry if she cornered you about it,” he said as they slowly ventured back to the foyer.

“Not at all. I was flattered she offered.” She noticed he was leading her toward the front door.

“Well, don’t hesitate to tell her to back off if you’re not interested in being her latest project.” He studied her, almost as if waiting for her elaborate, then asked, “So are you going to let her set you up?”

“I told her I’d think about it.”

“If you say yes, be warned, she’ll take over your Friday and Saturday nights until you threaten to change your number. Once she sets her mind to it, she won’t stop until you’re practically wed. She’s a believer in happy endings and all that noise.”

All that noise? She stifled laughter as she swiveled to face him. “We need more people like Miranda then. Anyway, I’d consider going out with someone if she thought we’d hit it off.”

“Yeah?” He leaned a palm high on the wall behind her, looking down, gaze smoky. Lowering his tone, he said, “Well, I’d like it very much if you turned her down.”

Oh? She gulped. Sometime in the last few seconds, he’d stealthy entered her personal space, filling it with his scent and heat. Flattening her hands to the wall, she looked up in his eyes. “Why should I?” she asked softly, knees going weak.

He stared at her mouth, then traced his gaze over her features, back to her eyes.

Her heart beat like a loud drum, and for a second she couldn’t breathe, trapped by his seductive gaze...and anticipating his intention. Slowly, he descended.

She didn’t move. Couldn’t move.

He set his free hand on her waist and gently drew her in, pressing his lips on hers, unrushed. The subtle, increasing power of their kiss melted her bones, and a need rose from a sexual place she’d long neglected.

He pulled back an inch, his thumb toying at the edge of her bottom lip, and as she took a quick intake of breath, he kissed her again, a little harder this time, encouraging her to open. All she could do was comply, parting her lips as he slipped his tongue inside. A short moan came from his throat and he locked his arm around her back, jerking her against his form. She leaned back and wrapped her arms around his neck, losing balance.

Her nipples tightened, desire pooling between her thighs as he pushed her against the wall. Lord, did her body flame and heartbeat scatter. She wanted him with a frenzied passion she’d never experienced before. Desire and sex had always been warm, pleasantly thrilling sensations, but not to this degree, where she felt like she would to agree to anything, as long as he kept going.

When he broke away, she whimpered helplessly. Whoa. That was the hottest kiss in history. In her history, that is.

“Jordana.” He waited until she opened her eyes. Crooking a finger under her chin, he said, “Please don’t let Miranda fix you up. I’d go crazy. Okay?”

Stunned, all she could do was nod. “Oh-okay.”

A small smile moved his mouth. “Good.” He moved away and moments later, she barely registered him walking her to her car and opening the driver’s side door after she unlocked it. “Drive safe,” she heard him say.

“Er, I will. Goodnight.”

It wasn’t until she started her car that she finally broke out of her daze. Her lips were still burning from his kiss, the rest of her aching. Glancing at the window, she saw him standing in front of his door, hands in pockets, watching her drive off.

She blew out a breath as she turned from of his driveway. So. He didn’t want her to see anyone else. That would be no problem at all.

Chapter Six

Lunch with Logan day.

That’s what her sister called it. It was the fourth time in almost two weeks and he was on his way to pick her up from the doctor’s office. She looked forward to their midday meals together, but wondered why he had yet to ask her out on a real date, and why he hadn’t kissed her since that night at his house.

Miranda had called a week ago, asking if she was free Friday night—she knew a pediatrician who was dying to meet her—but Jordana informed her she was no longer interested.

All she wanted was Logan. But…

Were they dating or were they just casual? Had he possibly regretted kissing her? He certainly didn’t behave as though he did, still charming and flirtatious as ever. In any case, there was no need to rush into anything, like her sister often did.

Speaking of Lucee, she hadn’t heard from her in over a week, which was a little odd. Jordana texted her about having dinner on Monday, but had yet to receive answer, and it was Thursday.

Dr. Palecki left early for a long weekend, so the office was empty except for her and Piper. Her cell phone display showed zero text messages and calls and she couldn’t help but check it every half hour. As flaky as Lucee could be, she usually returned messages in a day or two.

“He’s here,” Piper announced with a grin, watching as Logan’s sedan pulled up.

The level of her worries lessened when Logan got out of the car, smiling, to open the door for her. “What’s the menu of the day?” he asked. “The Italian place the other day gave me the greatest heartburn I’ve ever known, so try to remember my immediate health before you make a decision. I have to take pills for that, you know.”

She laughed softly. “Okay, how about something light, something simple. T-man,” she called to his driver with the nickname she’d made up for him. “Take us to ‘The Last Spoon’ on 6th and Crestwood, please.”

“Yes, Miss Shaw.”

Logan chuckled. “You’re getting good at that.”

Once they arrived at the café and ordered their lunches, she discreetly checked her cell phone again. No Lucee.

“Everything okay?” Logan inquired. “You seem a little upset.”

“How can you tell?”

He wriggled his fingers. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but you crack your knuckles one by one with your thumb when you’re worried about something.”

She stopped, and set her hand in her lap. “I do?”

He nodded. “I started to notice when you spoke of an infant who needed ear plugs. And when you thought you’d be late after our lunch when we got stuck in traffic. Then the time you thought your debit card had been stolen.”

Geez. She had no idea she had a tell. “Well, guess I shouldn’t try to become a professional poker player. It’s just I haven’t heard from Lucee yet. She hasn’t responded to any of my texts and I’ve been trying to reach her since Monday.”

“I see. I thought that was her signature communication. Few and far between. Delayed, sporadic texts.”

“It is her usual mode, but that doesn’t mean I’m any less worried until I hear from her.”

“I have a feeling she’s just being Lucee, lost in her own world. Is there anything I can do?”

She conjured up a smile. Since it wasn’t very polite to fidget when someone took you out to lunch, she tried to relax. “No. You’re right. She’ll call when she comes out of her bubble.”

Their food arrived, and after a few bites, he said, “Jordana, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask.” He wiped his hands on the napkin, then reached in his pocket and pulled a brown mailing envelope. Squeezing it open, he plucked out a few decorative greeting-like cards.

“What are those?” she asked.

“Party invitations. Autumn is one of the busiest seasons for social obligations. At least, it is for me. I told Ashtyn to narrow it down to those that I absolutely cannot decline, because my schedule is already more than full. I have a trip to Hong Kong coming up, and I’ll be away for at least two weeks for that. Then I have to fly to Dallas to finalize a project of ours. We’re opening a new branch down there. Anyway.”

He held up a white 5x7 card with black lettering in flowing font. “These are in no particular order. The black and white ball in L.A. honoring one of my mother’s closest friends, Marguerite Grey, who was like a second mom to me when I was little. They’re giving her an honorary award in daytime television. My mother says I have to go out of respect, only I know she’s insisting I attend so she can try to match me off with one of the dozen or so actresses’ single daughters. Functions like that used to be a good time, but I’ve learned many times over that, oh how can I put this?” He slowly smiled. “I learned long ago I can’t handle an actress. Whether she’s a soap, reality, or movie star. They’re a lot of fun at first, but a challenge to keep up with. You see, my mother is…a handful. Felt a lot like living in a soap when I was young.”

The name Savant coupled with his mother being an actress made her perk up. “Wait a second. Is your mom Deidre Savant? The Deidre Savant from the show Heart’s Horizon?”

He nodded with a half-smile. “You know it?”

“Of course I do. It’s one of the longest running soap operas on TV! I used to watch it all the time. Your mother was the ultimate villainess with a heart of gold. Is she still acting?” How come she didn’t put this together earlier? Maybe because he rarely mentioned his parents during their luncheon conversations.

“She exited the screen a few years ago and lives here now. Sometimes she thinks she’s the still star, however.”

“No wonder you dated so many actresses.”

He laughed. “A few, not many. Like I said, I had my share of fun, but one thespian in my life is more than enough.”

Jealousy curdled through her blood, but Jordana bat it down, hoping the useless emotion didn’t show in her face. He’d look so good on the arm of a beautiful actress, and would fit in the world of glamour and entertainment without effort. How many had he slept with? And why would a man who’s dated everyone from models to actresses be interested in her?

She wasn’t the only one who pondered it. Lucee and Piper had their theories after Googling him and seeing his rep as a serious ladies man. They came to the conclusion he’d gotten bored of his usual type and wanted to date someone “real.” Whatever that meant.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

She jerked, blushing. “Sorry. I was just thinking…” Of some excuse to cover my wandering mind. “That you could’ve been an actor yourself. Did you ever consider becoming one?” Totally pulled that one from thin air, but now that she’d asked she was genuinely interested in the answer.

He shrugged and took a moment’s pause before he responded. “I think of acting as something one decides to do, one is passionate about, at a young age. That was never me. Much to my mom’s disdain, I have a lot of my dad’s temperament and personality. Range of emotion, at least the ability to show it at the snap of a finger, isn’t a talent I possess like she does. Maybe when I was thirteen I gave acting a passing consideration, after I met kids my age who worked in showbiz. Actors get all the pretty girls, I noticed,” he added, and she chuckled. “My father started bringing me to the office once he became aware of how much time I was spending on the set after school. I complained, but believe it or not, after a while I found his day a lot more fascinating. He was constantly on the move. Meeting men who were larger than life who talked fast and loud like he did. Going places for luncheons, dissecting a business, telling me his gut feelings about this or that investment. I got to see how deals were played out day by day, week by week, and I was hooked. Now I’m doing business with those businessmen’s sons. Nothing else I’d rather do,” he added with a proud sincerity.

“Oh, wow. What a story.”

“Plus,” he drawled with a one-shoulder shrug. “I stuttered like a tea kettle until I was eleven. Actors can’t stutter.”

“You didn’t!”

He nodded. “Oh yeah. Took a long time and some therapy to get over it.”

“I can’t believe it. You’re such a…smooth talker.”

He laughed. “It’s a helpful skill.”

She knew full well how devoted he was to the company he grandfather founded. Not to mention how adept he was at handling ventures other than Savant Financial Group. The substantial property holdings and restaurants in New York and Los Angeles were also impressive. What she found surprising was that he didn’t boast or brag about his success like some, and didn’t behave like a stereotypical spoiled silver-spoon. One of the reasons she had begun to adore him as much as she desired him. Humility was hot. “You know, you’re a little young to be a CEO. I thought people had to put in a lot more time before being crowned king of the mountain.”

He gave a single nod. “I’ll take that as a compliment. It’s a different world now. Back when my father was my age, there was little chance he would’ve been appointed to the top. In fact, he wasn’t until his mid-fifties. But he and Grandpa recognized the industry has changed and a younger leader can be more of an asset than a risk. Nowadays it’s more common. Many companies have CEOs who are under forty.”

She shrugged with a grin. “Oh well, Hollywood’s loss. You would’ve made an excellent James Bond. If James Bond was American.”

He grinned, dimple deepening. “Thanks, Jordana. Okay, back on topic.” He picked up the next invitation, a black one this time, with shiny blue script. “The masquerade for the Face of the Bay Foundation. One of my personal favorites, an organization created years ago to keep the Bay its picturesque self.” Trading that invite for another, he showed her an ivory card with red calligraphy. “The Unchained benefit. To help raise money towards efforts in ending human trafficking. My company sponsors this one, so it’s a must. And finally,” he flipped up the last like a magician showing his final card, “Bridges of Marin County, a group to help disadvantaged youth and teens, getting them off the streets, in jobs, in schools. Miranda is on the board and made me promise to go because I missed last year’s. Anyway, these functions are all black tie, all cannot miss.” He set the invites down, fanned them out before her, then folded his hands together. “I was wondering—hoping actually,” he amended with a crooked smile, “that you would accompany me to these, if you aren’t already busy on those dates.”

She gave a start. “Me?” she exclaimed.

“Don’t look so shocked. Since my last go-to date is no longer an option, I need someone to take her place. I can’t promise you much, but there will be plenty of food, endless drinks, and a close up view of the most ostentatious ass-kissing. You may quote as much literature as you want, too.”

Her laughter belied her skepticism. “There must be a dozen other women who would love to be your go-to date. The kinds who are experienced and—sophisticated.”

He eyed her, cocking his head. “I happen to think you’re very sophisticated.”

“I’m many things, but that’s not one of them.”

For a few discomforting moments, he studied her, a small smile moving his mouth. “I disagree. You have your own blend of grace and a genuineness people are drawn to. For instance, do you even know,” he said, leaning in, “when you walk in a room, and smile at everyone from the host to the busboy, people notice? Then they smile at me, because I’m the lucky guy who’s with you.” He leaned back with a casual shrug. “And I don’t want anyone else. I want to go with you. A woman who won’t drive me crazy because she needs me to introduce her to so-and-so and can’t stop talking about how much weight other women have gained, or who had plastic surgery. I need someone I actually like being around. I need you.”

With those eyes and that incredibly thoughtful plea, how could she turn him down now? He wouldn’t have asked her if he didn’t think she was up for the job. Not that being with Logan resembled anything close to work. Isn’t this what she hoped for? To spend more time with him that didn’t include the noon hour and her in scrubs? “Okay. Count me in.”

“Really? Just like that?”

“Were you expecting a debate?”

“I was prepared in case you said no. I had a whole list of persuasive points ready. Spent an hour working on them, you know.”

“Save them for the next request,” she smiled. “When’s the first event?”

“A week from Saturday. I’ll have Ashtyn call you with the details.”

Attending posh events with one of the hottest bachelors in the city. Now that was enough to make a girl’s stomach tie in delicious knots. If only she had a little more practice dressing up and hobnobbing with the Bay’s elite. Remembering how they interacted at the children’s benefit, talking about their money, their yachts, their expensive hobbies, and she worried she’d stick out like someone who doesn’t belong next to Logan.

Gazing at him as he asked the waitress for more water, she determined to put insecurities away and revel in the fact he asked her. Someone he liked, she thought with a private smile.

After lunch, as they walked outside to wait for the car, Jordana’s cell phone vibrated in her pocket, and she plucked it out. She jumped with a smile, eyes wide. “Logan, it’s my sister. Finally!”

“Good. Take your time. I’ll wait by the car.”

She plugged one ear and answered. “Lucee, you waited long enough to call me. I was getting worried about you.”

“Hey sis! You’re always worried for no reason.” The reception cut out with a several bursts of static, punctuated by short syllables of Lucee’s voice.

Jordana plugged her ear. “You’re breaking up. Where are you?”

More static. “Sorry! It’s the wind. Adam rented a convertible for the weekend.”

“Are you coming for dinner this week?” Jordana asked, straining to hear. “I’ll make that vegan dish you like. There’s a Housewives marathon starting tomorrow.”

“Jordana! Can you hear me? I’ve got some news for you!” More wind.

“What news?”

The reception came in crystal clear as her sister announced, “I’m getting married!”

Jordana froze. “What!”

“You heard me,” her sister exclaimed. “We’re eloping to Vegas!”

She whipped around, unable to hide her shock as Logan watched her with a curious gaze. “Lucee! Oh my god, you’re kidding.”

“Why would I kid about that? I want you to be there if you can! Will you come? Be my maid of honor and a witness? We’ll be there tomorrow to get the license and hopefully find a chapel on Saturday. That will give you plenty of time to get your boney buns down there. I know you have tomorrow off.”