EXCERPT FROM FLIRTING WITH FATE By Jerrie Alexander

Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Dinner arrived and both fell into silence as they ate. Even well done, her prime rib was tender and moist. Elle sliced off a piece and held out her fork. “Try this.”
Logan’s gaze met hers as he leaned across the table and slid the piece of meat off her fork into his mouth. Electricity, strong enough to incinerate the Christmas tree in the corner, charged back and forth between them.

“Not bad.” He offered to share a bite of his prime rib, but she waved him off.

“They’re right behind you.” Elle and Logan pretended to ignore the two couples as they walked past, but she listened closely.

“It’s important that you act now,” said Brandon. “I have other investors waiting in line for this deal.”

Logan placed his fork on his plate and leaned back. “Typical fraud talk. Try to convince the mark that they’re going to miss out if they wait too long.”

“We have to make sure the Fitzgeralds don’t get ripped off.” Elle had a lot of faith in Logan. His reputation as a crime solver was well known. “Fate sent you here to save them from disaster.”

“Fate’s name is Eric.”

“So he’s the only reason you came?” She was fishing, but she had to seize the moment.
Logan refilled her glass but not his own. “You know better.”

“You’re not drinking?”

“One of us has to keep a clear head.” The corner of his mouth curved upward.

“Why, Mr. Ford,” Elle said in her best heavy drawl. “Are you trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me?”

Again, Logan laughed. God she loved to hear the slow and sexy sound. She’d never get tired of it. “Don’t make me give your pretty head a knuckle rub.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” She joined his laughter.

“And I’d never take advantage of you.”

Elle took a sip of wine. She’d barely kept herself from telling him that she wished he would. “I think I’m finished.” She pushed the glass to the center of the table.

“Then let’s get out of here.” He motioned for the check, signed it, and then walked around behind her and held her chair as she stood.

“Thank you. You’re such a gentleman.”

His eyebrow lifted. “That’s not the way you should think of me.”

Before she could challenge his comment, he’d ushered her out into the lobby. His hand rested on her lower back. How would it feel against her bare skin? She pushed away those thoughts while studying his profile. Logan wasn’t handsome in a pretty-boy way. His nose was slightly crooked, and a small scar bisected his eyebrow. Both had been the result of falling from a tree house he and Eric had built. His walk, deliberate with a bit of a swagger, exuded a quiet but deadly confidence.

Once inside the common room of their suite, Logan called his dad and went into detail, outlining how he could help pull off the sting. Elle kicked off her heels and relaxed on the couch. Logan paced while he explained the situation. He glanced at her and smiled.

“I will. Tell Mom I love her too.” Logan ended the call, walked to her, and kissed her on top of the head. “That’s from Dad.”

“You miss having them live closer?”

“Sometimes, but I understand their move to San Antonio was strategic. They do the biggest business in that area.” His gaze returned to the phone. “I’ll call Eric later.”

“Want me to talk to him?”

“No.” Logan’s answer came quick and sharp.

“Why not?”

“By the time Eric finishes grilling you, you’ll both be pissed. I’ll keep him on point.”

“His over protectiveness is getting old. Who I’m friends with, date, or have sex with is none of his damn business.” She waved off the shocked look on Logan’s face. “I understand that Eric felt he had to take over for our father, and I love him for it. He was too young to shoulder such a responsibility. Now it seems he’s too old to let it go.”
“He’ll let go when the right man comes along. When he sees you’re happy, he will be too.”

Logan punched in a number and left a message for Eric to call. A knock on the door drew both of them to their feet.

“I’ll get it.” Logan leaned down and removed a small pistol from an ankle holster.

“You brought a gun?”

“Never without it. Hardest thing I’ve done in a while was checking my lockbox at the
airport.” His movement was fluid but strong as he checked to see who stood on the other side of the door. “Housekeeping.”

The housekeeper offered to turn down their beds and build a fire. Logan thanked her, stating he’d handle the fireplace. True to his word, within minutes of closing the door, he had a roaring fire crackling, sending orange and red flames dancing.

Logan left the room and returned with his laptop. He’d kicked off his shoes, unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt, and rolled up his sleeves. The sheer casualness of the situation seeped into her soul, turning her muscles to putty.

His fingers moved across his keyboard. With his gaze locked on the computer screen, she watched as he shifted into cop mode.

“What are you working on?”

“Trying to brush up on our boy Brandon.” Logan glanced up. “Damned slow Internet is
killing me.”

Elle didn’t ask additional questions, allowing him to continue working. In the quiet, she planned tomorrow’s activities. Logan, Nicki, and Brandon’s ski outing would keep them busy for hours. Elle would use that time to again search for his laptop. She was taking a huge risk, but this was something she had to do. She snuggled deeper into the couch, watching Logan as he worked. Her eyelids grew heavy as images of hot, sweaty sex with him crept into her thoughts.

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