Page 47 of Blind Date with the Boss

Sally looked about her with wide-eyed delight. His home was the complete opposite of Chloe’s cosy town house and yet, despite its grandeur, Sally thought it offered a sense of welcome and surprising serenity.

‘This place suits my needs for the moment.’ Logan reached for her hands. ‘Are you hungry? My housekeeper leaves frozen meals. I could zap something in the microwave. Do you like Vietnamese food?’

‘I don’t know,’ Sally said. ‘I’m afraid I’ve never tried it, but I’m sure it’s delicious.’ She looked at him from beneath lowered lashes. ‘But I’m not really hungry.’Not for food.

He took the hint and drew her closer, ‘So, tell me. Have you ever been kissed in a penthouse?’

‘Never,’ she whispered, slipping into his arms, easily, happily.

He nuzzled her ear and sent delicious shivers scampering over her skin. ‘Is it one of your fantasies?’

‘I’ve just added it to my list.’

Her eyes drifted closed as he kissed her with lazy and tantalising thoroughness.

‘Nice,’ she murmured dreamily. ‘Now, what’syourfantasy?’

He chuckled. ‘You’re taking a risk, aren’t you?’

‘I don’t think so, Logan. I trust you.’ How wonderful it was to be able to say that.

For a moment the amusement in his eyes faded. Gently he traced the curve of her cheek. ‘I hope I deserve your trust, Sally.’

She gave him a playful punch in the midriff. ‘Stop worrying.’

‘I can’t help feeling responsible for you.’

‘I’m a grown woman. You’re supposed to feellustfor me.’

‘That’s a guaranteed certainty.’ He tucked a curl behind her ear. ‘I’ll happily share my fantasy with you. It’ll only take a minute to organise.’

Scant minutes later, Sally was curled beside him on a big red sofa, with a glass of chilled white in her hand, while the rich and glorious sounds of the Brahms violin concerto rolled over them.

‘I’ve listened to this music every night since we talked about it at the teambuilding workshop,’ he told her. ‘And I imagined you here, listening to it, too.’

Stunned, she set her shaking glass down on the coffee table. Every night? It was incredible that Logan had been thinking about her all this time. Incredibly fabulous.

‘And – and what did I do?’ she asked. ‘In your fantasy?’

‘Oh, you sat very close.’ With his arm around her shoulders, he kissed the top of her head. The gorgeous music swelled and soared above and around them and Sally closed her eyes and nestled against him. He smelled so good – a musky male scent mixed with the clean fragrance of his laundered shirt.

The music slowed to the especially beautiful section they both loved. They sat listening and to Sally the notes were like kisses caressing her skin… here… and here…… and here…

And here…

‘I think Brahms must have been in love when he wrote this music,’ she said.

‘It’s very possible. He fell in love quite regularly.’

‘Did he ever marry?’

‘No. He had affairs, apparently – a very famous one with Clara Schumann – but he was completely committed to his art.’

‘For which we’re very grateful,’ Sally said softly.

Logan’s fingers sifted through her curls. ‘Your hair is such an amazing colour and it’s so silky and soft.’ His deep voice had turned husky.

‘I’m rather keen on your chin.’ She pressed a kiss against his stubbled jaw. ‘It’s so raspy and rough.’

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