Chandler forced the words out. “I need a man who wants the same things as I do. Who believes in the same things.”

     The older woman looked thoughtful. “I understand. I felt the same way you did, once. Then Tommy let me see the inner person, and everything changed.” She hesitated. “If you’re ever ready to get a glimpse of who Logan really is, give me a call. I’ll tell you where to find him on Sundays.”

     Before Chandler questioned her strange words, the men came back. They exchanged good-byes and she waited at the table while Logan got her coat. When he returned, he smiled. “They enjoyed meeting you.”

     “I had a good time. Tommy asked to see me in his office to discuss the program.” She fiddled with the edge of the tablecloth. “Thank you again for recommending my workshop.”

     “You’re welcome. Thanks for being my date tonight.”

     “You’re welcome.”

     “We must be the two most polite people on earth.”

     Chandler laughed. They stared at each other for a few moments. “Well, I guess we should call it a night.”

     “Yes, I guess we should.” He escorted her towards the door, stopping to complement the maitre d’ on the service, then guided her into the silver Jaguar. Chandler leaned back into the seat as Logan weaved his way through the city traffic with the ease of an expert. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to relax, deciding not to question him when he jumped on the Henry Hudson Parkway and shot off into the night. It was a while before he reached the outskirts of the city and pulled into a dead end road.

     “This isn’t my apartment.”

     “No,” Logan agreed. “It’s not.” She turned to look at him when he cut the engine. “I’d like to show you something.”

     She gave an unladylike snort. “I think I’ve heard that line before.”

     Logan chuckled. “I’m sure you have. Please be assured if I had a different intention my approach would be flawless.”

     Her lips twitched. “The male ego is incredible.”

     “I can offer you a killer cognac or a hot cappuccino.”

     “Sold.”

     The street was quiet as they walked up the pathway. Chandler squinted in the darkness, but only caught an impression of a stark simplicity to the features of the house. The three story, modern structure seemed to thrust toward the sky, its roof hooking low over the front, sandwiched between two large picture windows. As Logan led her through the heavily carved door, the raw power and elegance that permeated the room struck her.

     The color scheme was a relaxing blend of cream and sand tones, set off by soft leather and warm teak. A variety of cactus plants were carefully scattered about. Chandler walked past the large modern marble fireplace and peered up the wide spiral staircase leading to the upstairs.

     “Your home is lovely, Logan.” Her gaze took in the high ceilings and a massive wall of carved glass. She pictured how the room would look bathed in the light of the morning sun.

     “Thank you.” He watched in amusement as she studied the pile of books by his desk, neatly alphabetized by author. “I could have bought one of those fancy condos, but somehow the moment I found this place I knew it was home.” He handed her a heavily cut glass. “Here, start with a little of this, then I’ll put on espresso. It’s a Godiva cordial.”

     “Hmmm, chocolate.” She sipped in pleasure. “Do you mind the commute to Manhattan?”

     “Not really. I have an apartment close to the office if I need to stay overnight. The quiet and privacy is worth the drive in.”

     “I know what you mean. I grew up in the city and always dreamed of moving upstate. Most of my childhood was spent in my father’s office. As luxurious as it was, somehow I think a cottage in the mountains is what I would like my children to remember.”

     “Not million dollar business deals.”

     She nodded. “I’m sure you’d disagree.”

     “Don’t you think I want my children to have it better than I did? They’ll have a choice whether or not to enter the corporate world. Besides, I always wanted to try horseback riding.”

     A giggle escaped her lips. “Somehow the image doesn’t fit.”

     “Why not?” he demanded.

     “Because, you’d have a hell of a time accepting the horse as boss—you wouldn’t be in control.”

     His voice dropped to a low growl. “I don’t have a problem relinquishing control if the reward is worth it.”

     Sexual tension lit up the room. She gulped her chocolate cordial and gasped as the liquid slid hotly down her throat. She searched wildly for something neutral to say to break the silence. “Didn’t you want to show me something?”

     Logan smiled lazily. “Are you ready to see it?”

     Chandler wondered if the alcohol made her hear things differently. There seemed to be a sexual undertone to everything he said. Maybe she shouldn’t have had that last glass of wine at dinner. “Yes, I’m ready.”

     Logan loosened his tie, moving with slow, deliberate motions. The silky material slid through his fingers and gleamed against his tanned hands. The lump in her throat grew. He pulled the tie off and threw it over the back of the chair, never taking his eyes from her face. Easing out of his sports jacket, he tossed it over the chair to join the tie.

     Her fingers tightened around the stem of her glass.

     He stood in front of her in casual dress slacks which emphasized muscled thighs and lean hips. She couldn’t stop her gaze from roving over him, overwhelmed by the sheer power of the male figure before her. She opened her mouth to halt this strip tease which took her very breath away, but his hands moved toward the buttons of his crisp white shirt and slipped them from the buttonholes one at a time. He revealed a line of curling dark hair. Her thoughts turned to wicked, sexual fantasies of popping the rest of the buttons in one sweep, ravishing him on the floor, then pulling off the rest of his clothes by using her teeth. And the things she could do with his belt—

     His fingers stopped on the third button.

     “It’s in the bedroom.”

     She managed a strangled squeak. “Bedroom?”

     “Yes.” He paused. “Do you want me to go get it?”

     “Get what?”

     “The thing I wanted to show you.”

     She cursed herself the moment her gaze dropped. She hurriedly glanced away. “Yes, that would be fine. Do you want me to come with you?”

     One black brow shot up. “Do you want to come with me to the bedroom?”

     Chandler reached up to push back her hair. “No, no, I’ll wait here.” With a relieved sigh she watched him turn and walk up the stairs. She sank into the deep folds of the sofa and groaned. Why did Logan Grant always turn her into a stuttering idiot? The man constantly made her look foolish and she had no other excuse except for her overactive hormones. Why was she on guard with him? Because he declared she would be in his bed one day?

     Would that be so terrible?

     She rested her head back on the plush leather sofa and studied the ceiling. Laura’s words spun through her mind, already foggy from the alcohol. If a man met the right woman anything was possible.

     Was he the right man for her? His kisses made her body burn for more. His quick wit and dry humor challenged her mind—she liked that. And, when he talked about his mother she ached to hold him and take away his pain. Were her emotions all caught up with lust, or could there be something more? Something like love—

     Chandler’s eyes widened. Love? No, she couldn’t be in love with Logan Grant. She needed someone she could trust and depend on. Someone who could love her in the same way she loved him.

     Like Richard Thorne.

     Her mind flashed to the last time they had seen each other. He’d escorted her to a wonderful vegetarian restaurant, then proceeded to involve her in an enriching conversation about the philosophy of life. Obviously, Richard was the type of man to build a future with. Unlike Logan, he worked in the business world but was not controlled by the culture.

     Or was he?

     She shifted as a sudden thought took hold. Why did she have an uneasy feeling he lied to her? Something glimmered in those chestnut eyes—something she didn’t seem to trust. Staring at the ceiling the most disappointing revelation came to her—the truth of her feelings.

     She did not love Richard Thorne.

     She was falling in love with Logan.

     Chandler shivered with a small sliver of pure, unbridled fear. Could a man who always needed to be in control let go and allow himself to love? Did she really want to take a chance on someone who may never be able to give her what she needed? At least she was happy with her life now. She had peace and stability. She had work. She had friends and students she cared about. She had—

     She had no one to come home to at night or wake up with in the morning. She had no one to make her body burn and her heart sing. When Logan took her in his arms she felt like she could fly. Was that wrong?

     Maybe she needed to take a chance on life. On Logan.

     Logan walked back into the room. He propped a large flat package up on the thick beige carpeting and pulled off the wrapping. The image he revealed made her gasp with pleasure.

     It was a painting. Her senses were assaulted by the stark beauty it depicted. An ancient castle rose above the earth, surrounded by rich gardens of flowers that climbed up the walls in an almost desperate attempt to mask it. Gaping windows peeked through wildly clinging leaves, finally breaking free to rise into the sky. The old broken castle stones told a story of time. Struck by the sense of history, Chandler wondered how many wars the castle had stood through, how much bloodshed or laughter or births had taken place within its walls.