Page 54 of The Billionaire and the Virgin

Something came up with work. Sorry.

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“I don’t understand,” Marjorie said, her brows furrowing. “I talked with him earlier today and he said he was looking forward to dinner.” Maybe if she dated more, she’d be used to cancellations and blow-offs. This one felt like it was ripping a hole in her heart, though, and she didn’t know what to do.

His message wasn’t even personal. It was cold, succinct. His normal messages were filled with crass flirting and attempts to make her blush. This... this wasn’t even trying.

“I wonder if I said something to make him upset?”

“I’m sure that’s not it,” Brontë exclaimed. “You’re looking for problems that aren’t there, Marj. I bet he just had a meeting come up that he couldn’t miss. Logan knows how that is, isn’t that right?” She looked up at her handsome fiancé with an adoring expression.

Marjorie’s heart hurt all over again. “But if it’s work, he didn’t say when he was going to get out of there.” And Rob had told her that work was taking a backseat this week so he could spend more time with her. Hadn’t he said his assistant had it handled? “I don’t understand.”

Oh, no... what if it was something she’d said or done last night? What if she’d somehow come across as terribly unsexy and he’d woken up this morning and realized he didn’t want to be with her? She felt stricken at the thought.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Brontë reiterated. “I can tell from the look on your face that you’re worried, but these things happen all the time.”

“What business did you say he was in?” Logan asked, his mouth a firm line.

Marjorie felt a twinge of nervousness, as if her aborted date with Rob had somehow messed up Logan’s evening as well. “I uh... well, he said business. I never really pried too much because Rob said he was on vacation.”

Logan’s cool gaze continued to assess her. “I see.”

“M-maybe I should have asked him?” Gosh, how was Brontë marrying this icy man? He was scaring the pants off of her tonight. It was odd how he could be so very warm to his fiancée and so controlled to the rest of the world. “It just never really came up. I—”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Logan said, cutting her off. “And I have an idea,” he said, turning to Brontë. “Since it’s both of you ladies, why don’t you see if Violet and Maylee are free tonight and take them with you to the restaurant? I’m sure they’d love to join you. You know they probably feel as if Gretchen is monopolizing your time.”

“Oh, no. Do you think so?” Brontë looked concerned. “They’re all my friends. I don’t want anyone to feel left out.”

“I’m sure they’re not,” Marjorie reassured her, pushing back her own concerns. “And we don’t have to make it a girls’ night out just because my date canceled. It’s really not necessary.”

“I insist,” Logan said, and he gave them both a smile that was both charming and predatory at once. “I have unfinished business to attend to myself, and should probably beg off.” He leaned in and whispered into Brontë’s ear for a long moment.

Eventually, she nodded. “Well, if you’re sure,” Brontë said. “We’ll miss you.”

Logan pulled her against him and gave her a tender kiss. “I’m sure, love. Call the girls. Go enjoy yourselves.” His eyes gleamed. “Business calls.”

***

Tucked away at a desk in Smith’s room, Rob lost himself in work. His inbox was endless. Lawsuits, tabloids, ratings drops, ratings increases, advertisers, unhappy advertisers, people wanting to advertise... he should have been able to concentrate on it. To tear through things as he normally did.

But he kept thinking about Marjorie. How she’d been waiting for him, radiant... and he’d stood her up like a coward and was now in hiding.

What a fucking chicken he was.

He knew it, and yet, if the other option was hurting her, he’d be a goddamn chicken if he had to. Anything to avoid hurting Marjorie’s feelings and ruining her time on vacation. So maybe it was cowardly of him, but he had a reason, and a purpose.

“Sir?” Smith asked, interrupting him from his work-slash-mooning.

Rob looked up, removing his headphones and closing his laptop. “What is it?”

“Gortham is staked out on the fourth floor, and he says that Logan Hawkings is hovering at the doorstep to your old suite. He’s making calls trying to locate you.”

Ah, so Logan had come sniffing after him after all. Figured. The asshole just couldn’t resist, could he? “I’ll go up and say hello.”

“Are you sure that’s wise, sir?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not, but it needs to be done.” Plus, he wasn’t a coward. Logan wasn’t the one he was hiding from, not really. It was Marjorie, and the knowledge that he really, really wasn’t good enough for her and wanted her anyway.

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