She rose from the table and grabbed her coat. She needed to find him. There were a few things she wanted to say.

     Chandler paced her daffodil carpeted floor like a tiger in her cage. She tried the office but nobody knew where he was. She’d called his house and reached his answering service. She'd sent a text, left a message on his Blackberry, and still heard nothing. Damnit, she wasn’t about to wait for Monday morning and have a blowout with him at his office. If there was any way she could continue her program, she needed to talk to him in private. He was a millionaire CEO in Manhattan and he refused to answer his phone? Where the hell would a high powered executive be on a Sunday afternoon?

     Laura.

     She blinked. Laura Weatherall had mentioned something about Logan disappearing on Sundays. She dove for the phone book and dialed her number. Laura’s cheerful voice came over the receiver.

     “Hi, it’s Chandler Santell. Do you remember me? We went out for dinner.”

     “Oh, of course, Chandler. I’m so glad you called. How are you?”

     “I’m fine.” She paused. “Actually, I’m not so fine. I need to get a hold of Logan and I can’t find him anywhere. Do you know where he is?”

     A short silence settled between them. “Yes, I do. Is it an emergency?”

     “Yes. It’s important.”

     “You can find him at Greenbriar Home for the Elderly. It’s in Westchester. Let me just get the address.”

     Chandler jotted down the number and thanked her. She locked up the house and jumped in the car. As she made the drive upstate, she tried to imagine why he would be spending his afternoon at an elderly home. Did he have a grandmother there she didn’t know about? Friend? Not that it mattered, of course. She just wanted to clear the record between them, and try to keep their relationship on a business level. After telling him exactly what she thought of his rotten, underhanded ways.

     The three level building was surrounded by evergreen trees, and gave off a rustic environment. She pulled into the parking lot and made her way up the twisting path, nodding to a few residents as they were maneuvered in wheelchairs back and forth the sidewalks. She stopped at the front desk, where a woman gave her a cheerful smile.

     “Can I help you?”

     Chandler realized she had no idea where he would be. “Ummm, I’m looking for a particular person. He may be visiting someone but I’m not sure who.”

     “What’s the name?”

     “Logan Grant.”

     The woman’s smile grew warmer. “Oh, Mr. Grant. He’s in the community room. Second floor. Make the first left out of the elevator.”

     “Thank you.” She walked through the hallways, noting the clean, simple atmosphere of the rooms decorated in soothing blues and greens. Sunlight poured generously through the windows and fell upon cherry wood tables and comfortable cloth chairs. She wondered if the building catered to an exclusive crowd. Most nursing homes she knew gave off the scents of disinfectant and a gloomy glow. When the doors slid open on the second floor, she made a left and followed the frequent bursts of laughter echoing down the hall. She paused in the doorway and studied the scene before her.

     A group of eight elderly men and women sat gathered around a large table. Most were in wheelchairs, others sat on high cushioned chairs. The sounds of Frank Sinatra boomed from the speakers and filled the room. Brightly colored chips were stacked up in piles in front of each person, and they all held cards in their hand. Logan sat at the head of the table with a fierce scowl upon his face. Then he threw one of his cards in the pile.

     “I’m taking one card,” he announced to the group.

     A woman on his right giggled. “I think you’re bluffing, babe. And I’m raising you five bucks to prove it.”

     She threw her chip into the circle with a confident air. The man next to her chewed on a toothpick and squinted at his cards. “Evelyn, you’re a lousy player. You think everyone bluffs. That’s why you’ve lost every hand.”

     “Well, one day someone’s gonna bluff and I’m gonna win.”

     The man snorted with disgust. “You shouldn’t even be allowed to play for a theory like that. Women.”

     Another woman threw her chip in. Chandler noticed she had two glasses full of water in front of her. One of the cups held her teeth. She gave a toothless grin and cackled. “Come on, Jim, you’re pissed cause you lost the last three deals. Women have been beating your butt for years, and you can’t handle it.”

     Jim chewed harder on his toothpick. “Hey, Shirley, I noticed you checking out that new guy in room 212. Pretty hot, huh?”

     Shirley blushed and reached for her teeth. “I didn’t notice.”

     Jim laughed. “Didn’t notice, huh? Is that why I caught you staring when he leaned over to grab a soda in the cafeteria?”

     “Shut up and play!”

     “Fine, I’m in.”

     The rest of the group threw in their chips. Chandler watched Logan fight the smile on his lips, but his eyes lost the battle. For one moment, she caught him completely unguarded. Genuine affection warmed his gray eyes and turned them to smoke. His face softened into a playful expression, as he contemplated his cards and put on a show, pretending he had a hand that would blow them away. He teased them back, played the role of peacemaker when they fought, and made them laugh. Then his gaze slid up and locked with hers.

     She held her breath. He stared at her for what seemed like hours, until she felt like a prey in his trap. She waited for his carved features to settle back into stone, but his expression didn’t change. For those few seconds, he let her in and allowed her to see a part of him he kept hidden. Her stomach dipped and plunged. She glimpsed a man who experienced laughter and pain and caring.

     A man who experienced love.

     Then the moment was gone.

     He rose from the table and motioned her over. “I fold.” A combined groan echoed from the group. Jim called him a wimp. Logan chuckled. “You’re mad cause you want more of my money. This is a ruthless crowd. Sure you guys don’t want to come work for me?”

     “Nah, you don’t pay enough,” Jim grumbled. Everyone cackled with laughter.

     “Minimum wage, Jim. Just give me the word.”

     “I make more with Social Security.”

     Logan winked at her. “Actually, I’m excusing myself because this lovely lady will break my concentration. Chandler Santell, let me introduce you to the poker club.”

     He rattled off the list of names and she was greeted with a warm enthusiasm, except for Jim. He looked as if he was sizing her up to see if she was worth Logan’s company. The realization that the elderly man was protective of the city’s most ruthless businessman caused a spark of tenderness.

     Logan called over one of the nurses. “Lucy, take my place, and don’t let them intimidate you.”

     Jim snorted. “Yeah, and why don’t you change the music while you’re at it. Sinatra’s old news. Put on the new Kid Rock CD.”

     Logan shook his head and guided her out of the room. They didn’t speak as he led her toward a lounge marked PRIVATE QUARTERS. She watched while he stopped before the window and stared out at the lake. Old faded Levis clung to his thighs and muscled calves. He wore a navy short sleeve Ralph Lauren polo shirt which showed off corded arms sprinkled with dark hair. A gold Rolex shimmered around his wrist. He stood with legs slightly apart, hands on hips, his powerful shoulders thrown back with an unconscious male arrogance. She shivered as she recognized her body’s instant reaction. The man was a pure sex symbol, but she refused to let her mind be weak any longer. Because he was also a liar.

     And dangerous.

     “How did you find me?”

     His tone was mellow. His deep voice stroked her like a velvet glove. Chandler cleared her throat. “I called Laura. Told her it was an emergency.”

     He nodded. Then turned. She was struck full force by his presence, and the raw masculinity that filled the room. “Is it an emergency?”

     Her eyes narrowed with bitterness. “Probably not for you. But when someone lies to me, I like to know the reason why.”

     One brow lifted. “Sounds serious.”

     She waited for more but he stood there, staring at her. The anger came back, hot and demanding. “Serious for people who believe in the truth. Not so serious for people who don’t care who they hurt to get what they want.”

     “Do you regret last night?”

     Color flooded her cheeks. She shifted her feet for better position. “Last night never should have happened. It won’t again.”

     “Won’t it?” he murmured.

     Temper exploded within her. She reminded herself to breathe calmly. “No, it won’t. I don’t sleep with men who treat me like a plaything.”

     “I thought I treated you like the passionate woman you are.”

     “Why did you order a dossier on me?”

     He stepped back as if struck. Surprise glimmered in his eyes, then quickly turned to regret. He cursed under his breath. “How do you know?”

     She clenched her fists. “That’s the question? No denial? No explanation? Oh, but of course, that’s a businessman answer, isn’t it? Fine, this is my answer—it doesn’t matter. You admitted the truth. Consider our contract null and void.”

     She turned to walk out the door. In seconds, his hand shot out and clasped her upper arm.

     “Don’t be stupid, Chandler. Don’t throw your entire school away because of your temper. Think for a minute.”