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From Single Mom to Secret Heiress Page 3


  Logan released a deep, sexy laugh. “You’re hell on wheels, aren’t you?”

  She took another sip of the cocktail to clear the bitter taste in her mouth. “After growing up a poor fatherless child, I learned to be. Also, my mother was extremely unsocial and rather unhappy over raising a daughter alone, to say the least. I took an opposite path and made it my goal to be upbeat and sociable.”

  He grinned. “I bet you were a cheerleader.”

  She returned his smile. “Yes, I was, and I could do a mean backflip.”

  “Think you could still do it?”

  “I don’t know. It’s been a while, but I suppose I could don my cheerleading skirt, though it’s probably a little tight, and give it the old college try.”

  He winked, sending a succession of pleasant chills down Hannah’s body. “I’d like to see that.”

  “If you’re like most men, you just want to see up my skirt.” Had she really said that?

  He sent her a sly grin. “I do admire limber women.”

  A brief span of silence passed, a few indefinable moments following unmistakable innuendo. Hannah couldn’t recall the last time she’d actually flirted with someone aside from her husband. And she’d been flirting with a virtual stranger. An extremely handsome, successful stranger.

  A very young, very peppy blonde waitress sauntered over and flashed a grin. “Can I get you anything, sir?”

  “Bring me a cola,” Logan said without cracking a smile.

  She glanced at Hannah. “What about you, ma’am?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Are you sure?” Logan asked. “You wouldn’t like one more round?”

  She was sorely tempted, but too sensible to give in. “I’m driving, remember?”

  “I could drive you home if you change your mind.”

  “That would be too much trouble,” she said, knowing that if he came anywhere near her empty house, she might make a colossal mistake.

  “It’s not a problem.”

  It could be if she didn’t proceed with caution. “I’m fine for now. But thanks.”

  Once the waitress left, Hannah opted for a subject change. “Now that you know quite a bit about me, what about you?”

  He pushed his empty coffee cup aside. “What do you want to know?”

  Plenty. “I saw on your profile you’re single. Have you ever been married?”

  His expression went suddenly somber. “Once. I’ve been divorced for eight years.”

  She couldn’t imagine a man of his caliber remaining unattached all that time. “Any relationships since?”

  “Nothing serious.”

  She tapped her chin and pretended to think. “Let me guess. You have a woman in every court.”

  His smile returned, but only halfway. “Not even close. I work a lot of hours so I don’t have much time for a social life.”

  “Did you take a vow of celibacy?” Heaven help her, the vodka had completely destroyed her verbal filter.

  When the waitress returned with the cola, Logan pulled out his wallet and handed her a platinum card to close out the tab, or so Hannah assumed. “Keep it open for the time being,” he said, shattering her assumptions.

  Once the waitress retreated, Hannah attempted to backtrack. “Forget I asked that last question. It’s really none of my business.”

  “It’s okay,” he said. “I’ve had a few relationships based solely on convenience. What about you?”

  He’d presented a good case of turnabout being fair play, but she simply had little to tell when it came to the dating game. “Like you, I haven’t had time to seriously consider the social scene. I have had a couple of coffee dates in the past year, but they were disastrous. One guy still lived at his mother’s house in the basement, and the other’s only goal was to stay in school as long as possible. He already had three graduate degrees.”

  “Apparently the last guy was fairly smart,” he said.

  “True, but both made it quite clear they weren’t particularly fond of children, and that’s a deal breaker. Not to mention I’m not going to subject my child to a man unless he’s earned my trust.”

  He traced the rim of the glass with his thumb. “It’s logical that you would have major concerns in that department.”

  “Very true. And I have to admit I’m fairly protective of her. Some might even say overprotective.” Including her best friend, Gina.

  Logan downed the last of his drink and set it aside. “I’m not sure there is such a thing in this day and time.”

  “But I’ve been known to take it to extremes. I’ve even considered encasing her in bubble wrap every day before I send her off to school.”

  Her attempt at humor seemed to fall flat for Logan. “You really can’t protect them from everything, and that’s a damn shame.”

  His solemn tone spurred Hannah’s curiosity. “Do you have children from your previous marriage?”

  He momentarily looked away. “No.”

  Definitely a story there. “Was that a mutual decision between you and your wife?” Realizing she’d become the ultimate Nosy Nellie, she raised her hands, palms forward. “I’m so sorry. I’m not normally this intrusive.”

  “My wife was an attorney, too,” he continued, as if her prying didn’t bother him. “Having kids wasn’t in the cards for us, and that was probably just as well.”

  “How long were you married?”

  “A little over seven years.”

  She started to ask if he’d been plagued with the legendary itch but didn’t want to destroy her honorable-man image. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure the divorce process can be tough.”

  “Ours was pretty contentious. But it wasn’t anything compared to losing someone to death.”

  He almost sounded as if he’d had experience with that as well. “They’re both losses, and they both require navigating the grief process. I was somewhat lucky in that respect. I had Cassie to see me through the rough times.”

  “How old was she when your husband died?” he asked.

  “I was five months pregnant, so he never saw her.” She was somewhat amazed she’d gotten through that revelation without falling apart. Maybe her grief cycle was finally nearing completion.

  “At least you were left with a part of him,” Logan said gruffly. “I assume that did provide some consolation.”

  A good-looking and intuitive man, a rare combination in Hannah’s limited experience. “I’m very surprised by your accurate perception, Mr. Whittaker. Most of the time people look at me with pity when they learn the details. I appreciate their sympathy, but I’m not a lost cause.”

  “It’s Logan,” he told her. “And you’re not remotely a lost cause or someone who deserves pity. You deserve respect and congratulations for moving on with your life, Hannah.”

  Somewhat self-conscious over the compliment, and oddly excited over hearing her name on his lips, she began to fold the corner of the cocktail napkin back and forth. “Believe me, the first two years weren’t pretty. I cried a lot and I had a few serious bouts of self-pity. But then Cassie would reach a milestone, like her first steps and the first time she said ‘Mama,’ and I realized I had to be strong for her. I began to look at every day as a chance for new opportunities. A new beginning, so to speak.”

  The waitress came back to the table and eyed Hannah’s empty glass. “Sure I can’t get you another?”

  She glanced at the clock hanging over the bar and after noticing it was nearly 10:00 p.m., she couldn’t believe how quickly the time had flown by. “Actually, it’s getting late. I should probably be going.”

  “It’s not that late,” Logan said. “Like I told you before, I’ll make sure you get home safely if you want to live a little and have another vodka and tonic.”

  Hannah
mulled over the offer for a few moments. Her daughter was at a sleepover, she had no desire to watch TV, and she was in the company of a very attractive and attentive man who promised to keep her safe. What would be the harm in having one more drink?

  * * *

  “I should never have ordered that second drink.”

  Logan regarded Hannah across the truck’s cab as he pulled to a stop at the curb near her driveway. “It’s my fault for encouraging you.”

  She lifted her face from her hands and attempted a smile. “You didn’t force me at gunpoint. And you had no idea I’m such a lightweight when it comes to alcohol.”

  Funny, she seemed perfectly coherent to him, both back in the bar and now. “Are you feeling okay?”

  “Just a little fuzzy and worried about my car. It’s not much, but it’s all that I have.”

  He’d noticed the sedan had seen better days. “It’s been secured in the valet garage, and I’ll make certain it’s delivered to you first thing in the morning.”

  “You’ve done too much already,” she said. “I really could have called a cab.”

  In reality, he hadn’t been ready to say good-night, although he couldn’t quite understand why. Or maybe he understood it and didn’t want to admit it. “Like I told you, it’s not a problem. You don’t know who you can trust these days, especially when you’re an attractive woman.”

  She gave him a winning grin. “I bet you say that to all the women who refuse a five-million-dollar inheritance.”

  “You happen to be the first in that regard.” Absolutely the first woman in a long, long time to completely capture his interest on a first meeting. A business meeting to boot. “I’m hoping you haven’t totally ruled out taking the money.”

  “Yes, I have. I know you probably think I’ve lost my mind, but I do have my reasons.”

  Yeah, and he’d figured them out—she was refusing on the basis of principle. He sure as hell didn’t see that often in his line of work. “Well, I’m not going to pressure you, but I will check back with you tomorrow after you’ve slept on it.”

  She blinked and hid a yawn behind her hand. “Speaking of sleeping, I’m suddenly very tired. I guess it’s time to bid you adieu.”

  When Hannah reached for the door handle, Logan touched her arm to gain her attention. “I’ll get that for you.”

  “Whaddya know,” she said. “Looks like chivalry is still alive and well after all.” She followed the comment with a soft, breathless laugh that sent his imagination into overdrive.

  Before he acted on impulse, Logan quickly slid out of the driver’s seat, rounded the hood and opened the door for Hannah. She had a little trouble climbing out, which led him to take her hand to assist her. Weird thing was, he didn’t exactly want to let go of her hand, but he did, with effort.

  He followed behind her as they traveled the path to the entry, trying hard to keep his gaze focused on that silky auburn hair that swayed slightly with each step she took, not her butt that did a little swaying, too.

  Right before they reached the front porch, Hannah glanced back and smiled. “At least I’m not falling-down drunk.” Then she immediately tripped on the first step.

  Logan caught her elbow before she landed on that butt he’d been trying to ignore. “Careful.”

  “I’m just clumsy,” she said as he guided her up the remaining steps.

  Once they reached the door, he released her arm and she sent him another sleepy smile. “I really enjoyed the evening, Logan. And if you’ll just send me what I need to sign to relinquish the money, I’ll mail it back to you immediately.”

  He still wasn’t convinced she was doing the right thing in that regard. “We’ll talk about that later. Right now getting you to bed is more important.” Dammit, that sounded like a freaking proposition.

  “Do you want to come in?” she asked, taking him totally by surprise.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Actually, it sounded like a great idea, but he was too keyed up to honestly believe he could control his libido.

  She clutched her bag to her chest. “Oh, I get it. You’re afraid you’re going to be accosted by the poor, single mom who hasn’t had sex in almost seven years.”

  Oh, hell. “That’s not it at all. I just respect you enough not to put us in the position where we might do something we regret, because, lady, being alone with you could lead to all sorts of things.”

  She leaned a shoulder against the support column and inclined her head. “Really?”

  “Really. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve had a hard time keeping my eyes off you tonight.” He was having a real hard time right now.

  She barked out a laugh. “I’m sorry, but I’m having a difficult time believing you would be interested in me.”

  She couldn’t be more wrong. “Why wouldn’t I be? You’re smart and savvy and pretty damn brave to raise a child on your own and finish college at the same time.”

  “Keep going.”

  He could...all night. “You’re a survivor and very beautiful, although you don’t seem to know that. And that’s not only hard to find in a beautiful woman, it’s appealing.”

  “And?”

  “Right now I’d like to kiss you,” he blurted out before his brain caught up with his mouth. “But I’m not going to.”

  “Why not?” she asked, looking thoroughly disappointed.

  “Because if I kissed you, I might not want to stop there. And as I’ve said, I respect you too much to—”

  Hannah cut off his words by circling one hand around his neck and landing her lips on his, giving him the kiss he’d been halfheartedly trying to avoid.

  Logan was mildly aware she’d dropped her purse, and very aware she kissed him like she hadn’t been kissed in a long, long time—with the soft glide of her tongue against his, bringing on a strong stirring south of his belt buckle. He grazed his hand up her side until his palm rested close to her breast, and he heard her breath catch as she moved flush against him. He considered telling her they should take it inside the house before someone called the cops, but then she pulled abruptly away from him and took a step back.

  Hannah touched her fingertips to her lips, her face flushed, her emerald eyes wide with shock. “I cannot believe I just did that. And I can’t imagine what you must be thinking about me right now.”

  He was thinking he wanted her. Badly. “Hey, it’s chemistry. It happens. Couple that with a few cocktails—”

  “And you get some thirty-year-old woman acting totally foolish.”

  He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You don’t have to feel foolish or ashamed, Hannah. I’m personally flattered that you kissed me.”

  She snatched her bag from the cement floor and hugged it tightly again. “I didn’t give you a whole lot of choice.”

  “You only did what I wanted to do.” Trouble was, he wanted to do it again, and more. “For the record, I think you’re one helluva sexy woman and I’d really like to get to know you better.”

  “But we’ve just met,” she said. “We don’t really know anything about each other.”

  He knew enough to want to move forward and see where it might lead. “That’s the get-to-know-each-other-better part.”

  “We don’t live in the same town.”

  “True, but it’s only a ninety-mile drive.”

  “You’re busy and I have a five-year-old child who is currently in school, plus I’m looking for a job.”

  He remembered another search she should be conducting, and this could be the key to spending more time with her. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you all night.”

  “Have I taken total leave of my senses?”

  He appreciated her wit, too. “This is about your biological father.”

  That seemed to sober her
up. “What about him?”

  “Just wondering if you have any details about his life.”

  She sighed. “I only know that my mother hooked up with some guy who left her high and dry when she became pregnant with me. According to her, he was both ruthless and worthless.”

  Some people might describe J. D. Lassiter that way. “Did she ever offer to give you a name?”

  “No, and I didn’t ask. I figured that if he wanted nothing to do with me, then I wanted nothing to do with him.” Her tone was laced with false bravado.

  He did have a hard time believing J.D. would be so cold and uncaring that he would ignore his own flesh and blood no matter what the circumstances. “Maybe there were underlying issues that prevented him from being involved in your life.”

  “Do you mean the part about him being an absolute bastard, or that he was married?”

  Finally, a little more to go on. “Do you know that to be a fact? The married part.”

  “My mother hinted at that, but again, I can’t be certain.”

  “Then maybe it’s time you try to find out the truth. You owe it to yourself and to your daughter. Because if J.D. is actually your father, you have siblings.”

  Hannah seemed to mull that over for a time before she spoke again. “How do you propose I do that?”

  “With my help.”

  She frowned. “Why would you even want to help me?”

  “Because I can’t imagine what it would be like to have more questions than answers.” In some ways he did know that. Intimately. “And since I’m an attorney, and I know the Lassiters personally, I could do some subtle investigating without looking suspicious.”

  “It seems to me you would be too busy to take this on.”

  “Actually, I have a light caseload this week.” Or he would as soon as he asked his assistant to postpone a few follow-up appointments. “But I would definitely want you to be actively involved in the search.”