Jennifer Probst - Heart of Steel

     Chandler bit back the explanations on the tip of her tongue meant to soothe his worries. Logan Grant had started this game the moment he kissed her. Surely, it wouldn’t hurt to put him in his place by making him think she could be involved with Harry. Time she taught him a lesson.

     Her lips curved in a smile. “Sounds good. Why don’t I meet you at seven?”

     “Great. We’ll talk then. Nice to meet you, Logan.” He turned and left. The clock ticked and she stood her ground as she waited for Logan to finally speak.

     “You will not go to dinner with him.”

     She blinked. “You’re joking.”

     His face set like hard stone. Slowly, he walked towards her with a predatory grace. “Consider your affair with him over. If something was meant to happen between the two of you it would have occurred years ago.”

     She took one step backward for each one of his. “You have no right to tell me what to do. You know nothing about the relationship I have with Harry.”

     “I know you’re not in love with him.” Arrogance pulsed through his tone. “I know you don’t respond to him the way you do to me. I also know he’s not right for you. Just like Richard Thorne isn’t for you.”

     “And you are?”

     His jaw tightened. “I won’t let you go running to your ex-lover because you’re scared to death of the way I make you feel. You do the same thing with Thorne. You’re with him because he makes you feel safe.”

     “Safe is good.”

     “Safe is cowardly.”

     He advanced a step. She retreated as she said, “Harry is sweet. You’re overbearing and insufferable. I won’t let you walk all over me.”

     “You don’t belong with him.”

     “Harry listens to my ideas and supports me. You’re domineering and a pigheaded.”

     “I won’t let you do things that will get you in trouble.”

     Chandler continued backing up from his looming figure. “Harry’s patient and understanding. He'd never rush me into bed without being my friend first.”

     “I won’t wait around on the sidelines while you try to compare me to men in your past.”

     “Harry would never demand something I’m not ready to give.”

     “I won’t let you lie about your feelings.

     She caught the gleam of triumph in his eyes too late. Her back slammed against the wall and trapped her from further retreat. She tilted her chin in defiance. He was so close she saw the heat in his eyes, smelled the musk of his cologne. She rallied her crumbling forces and battled for control over her treacherous body. “Harry would never use forceful tactics to get what he wanted.”

     “Harry will never make love to you the way I will, Chandler.”

     Her knees went weak and her gasp of outrage was smothered by his mouth over hers. He plundered her lips in a sensual invasion that drove the breath from her lungs. Heat exploded through her as his tongue thrust against hers, diving in and out of her mouth as if to plummet every dark secret, demanding her response, until she grasped his shoulders for balance and hung on. Her nails dug into the hard muscles as the searing kiss went on.

     Raw sexual energy crackled between them as Logan slid his hands up her back to rip at the pins holding her hair. He dragged the honeyed strands through his fingers and murmured in pleasure as the heavy waves tumbled down to cloak them in a world of mindless abandonment.

     She pressed her body against his, luxuriating in the feel of his hips cradling hers, the lean strength of his thighs, the bold evidence of his arousal. He pulled back, heard her strangled cry of protest, and re-slanted his mouth to kiss her more deeply. He used his lips and teeth and tongue to push her to the limits of control, until she became helpless beneath the onslaught and surrendered completely.

     When he withdrew from her, it took a few moments to register the loss. She blinked in confusion and stared up at him. His eyes were hot and smoky as he gazed at her, but his words fell like icy drops of water and made her stiffen in shock.

     “Cancel your dinner appointment with him. If you insist on starting this game, I’ll insist on finishing it.”

     When she finally recovered enough to hurl some choice words at him she was too late.

     He was already gone.

     The following evening Chandler sipped her wine and gazed at the man who wreaked havoc with her life. Her dinner appointment with Harry had been postponed, replaced with one of Logan’s making.

     She had picked up the phone a hundred times to cancel on Logan, then replaced the receiver while she raged at his incredible arrogance. The whole time she dressed she vowed he would not order her around like one of his employees. The only reason she hadn’t canceled was the business opportunity for her school. When he picked her up she acted cool and distant, prepared to ignore any apology or explanation he offered. It only angered her further when he’d taken her lead and treated her with utmost politeness and kept their conversation on a neutral basis.

     She wanted to hit him over the head with a blunt object.

     Chandler re-focused her attention on the conversation. “I’m pleased with the final negotiations,” Thomas Weatherall said. He glanced lovingly at his wife. “Time to relinquish some responsibilities and give Laura the attention she deserves. She’s been patient for too long.”

     Laura laughed and laid her hand over her husband’s. “I knew what I was walking into when I married him, but I admit I’m looking forward to doing some traveling. With the kids grown we finally have time to do what we want.”

     Chandler smiled. She liked Thomas and Laura Weatherall the moment she met them. Obviously, the older couple were still in love after many years. They complemented each other nicely. He was a tall man, quiet and reserved, with silver hair and a stately manner. Laura was short and energetic, with red hair and sparkling eyes. Her movements were quick and her laugh was loud. Chandler bet Thomas learned not to take life quite so seriously with his wife around. She applauded Laura’s success.

     Laura turned to her. “Chandler, I think your idea of a stress workshop is a wonderful idea. I know Tommy’s company could use it desperately. All those nice young men and woman end up with ulcers and migraines by running themselves into the ground. Have you seen any success yet?”

     “I think it’s working out rather well. Logan will analyze the results in six months, and hopefully we’ll be able to expand.” She prayed he wouldn’t say something to the contrary. His chuckle took her by surprise.

     “We’re not halfway through yet and already the employees seek her out with their problems,” he said. “I’m afraid if I tried to get rid of her they’d band together and overthrow me as monarch.”

     Everyone laughed. Chandler glanced at him and caught his wink. She felt guilty at her previous thought to injure him.

     “Well, you have to be a miracle worker if you get our ‘man of steel’ to relax,” Tommy said, ignoring Logan’s groan at the nickname dubbed him.

     “Yes,” Laura chimed in. “I’ve been telling him for years all he needed was a good woman. Now maybe he’ll stop trying to invite himself for dinner every Thursday night.”

     Chandler arched one brow. “Let me guess. Meatloaf?”

     Laura shook her head. “Pork chops. And I have to warn you, I’ve already found three other women he finagles dinner from on a weekly basis. I think it’s all in his master plan.”

     Logan threw up his hands in defeat. “I admit I’m a lousy cook. I complement you, Laura. No one makes food like you do.”

     Laura leaned in. “I bet he says that to all the girls.”

     Chandler stopped smiling when she caught the sensual gleam in his gray eyes. His voice dropped. “Once I find the right one I’d never stray. It’s a contract for life.”

     She clumsily reached for her wine and tried to hold back a blush at the pointed smiles directed at her. Logan made it evident he was interested in more than business, and his clients seemed delighted at the thought.

     Tommy pushed back his chair and stood up. “If you’ll excuse us, I’m going to take my wife for a spin on the dance floor.”

     Chandler watched them, hands entwined, as they walked away.

     “Are you still angry?”

     She looked up. She studied his face, captivated by the slope of his jaw, smoky eyes, black brows. His mouth could have been sculpted by an artist. His lips were finely outlined with just a hint of softness evident in the lower one. The khaki sports jacket he wore hugged the broad line of his shoulders and emphasized the breadth of his torso. She struggled to keep her voice cool. “Of course I’m still angry. Since I’ve met you I feel like I’ve been run over by a steamroller.”

     Logan chuckled. “Funny, I’ve felt the same way since you walked into my office.”

     She snorted in disbelief. “I haven’t acted like a bully and ordered you to cancel dinner dates.”

     “I don’t know how else to make you listen. You don’t believe me about Thorne, and now you think Weston is harmless. He wants more than friendship.”

     Chandler let out her breath in disgust. “Harry is harmless. I only tried to make you believe something else was going on because I wanted to teach you a lesson. I’m sorry.”

     He studied her for a moment, then relaxed. He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “Did you like making me jealous?”

     “No!” she denied hotly. “Of course not, I just wanted to—”