Page 52 of Lucas
I glare at him. “No. I mean, yes, I enjoy sex. What red-blooded man doesn’t? But all those stories in the gossip rags, all those rumors, they’re wild exaggerations. I’m not sleepingwith a different woman every night. And I certainly never took part in any orgies. Those were just rumors.”
Desperate to change the subject, I ask, “How are things with you and Sloane?”
A slow, sappy smile spreads across Logan’s face, his eyes going soft and unfocused. “Better than ever.”
I shake my head, baffled. “I don’t understand how you do it. How you stay with one woman for so long. Where’s the excitement in that?”
Logan shrugs, a far-off look on his face. “When you’re with the right person, the excitement never fades. It just evolves. Grows deeper, richer.”
I stare at him. The concept is so foreign to me, so utterly incomprehensible. “I’ve tried the whole relationship thing. It never works. I always get bored. What am I supposed to do with the same woman for years on end?”
The very thought makes me shudder. An eternity of monotony, of stagnation. A slow death of the soul.
Logantsks, a knowing glint in his eye. “See, that’s your problem. You’ve never tried to connect with a woman beyond the physical. Sloane, she’s brilliant, funny, fascinating. I could spend hours just listening to her talk, hearing her ideas. Being with her, sharing my life with her, it’s everything. The sex is great, don’t get me wrong. Phenomenal, even. But it’s not the core of our relationship. It’s just one part of a much greater whole.”
I blink at him, uncomprehending. “It sounds awful. Suffocating.”
Logan laughs. “Trust me, Brother. When you meet the right woman, you’ll be begging for the privilege of being chained to her.”
I scoff, skeptical. The idea is absurd. No woman could ever hold that kind of power over me. I won’t allow it.
“Speaking of,” Logan continues, his tone turning sly, “what’s your plan with Ava? You married her without even sleeping with her. There must be some strategy at play.”
I rise and stride to the wall safe, my fingers flying over the keypad. The lock disengages with a soft beep, and I reach inside, withdrawing a thick manila folder. I toss it to Logan, watching as he catches it.
“What’s this?” He flips it open, his gaze scanning the pages within.
I pace behind my desk, my hands clasped behind my back. “The contract. The terms of our arrangement.”
Logan’s brows climb higher as he reads, his lips moving silently over the dense legal jargon. When he reaches the decision clause, he sucks in a sharp breath.
“Lucas,” he says slowly, carefully. “You’re going to take over her company.”
“Yes.” I knew he would catch it right away. He’s always been the smarter one.
“Why would she agree to that?” Logan looks up at me, confusion and something like admiration warring on his face.
I allow a smirk to curve my lips, preening under his regard. “Because I sold her a story. Told her I was investing in Gant Construction to save it from ruin. That I needed the power to make executive decisions in order to do so.”
Logan shakes his head, a disbelieving laugh huffing from his lungs. “It’s brilliant. Evil, manipulative, and utterly ruthless, but brilliant.”
Pride swells in my chest at his words. Logan is a genius, a prodigy. To earn his praise, his respect... It’s everything.
But then his expression sobers, a shadow passing over his face. “You know this won’t end well, right? When she figures out what you’re doing, what you’ve done, she’ll despise you.”
I wave a dismissive hand, unconcerned. “She already despises me. We’re a Valeur and a Gant. Hate is in our blood.”
Logan pins me with a searching look, his head tilted to the side. “Is it? Because the way you were looking at her at the wedding, that wasn’t hate I saw in your eyes.”
I stiffen, my heart kicking into a gallop behind my ribs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t you? Come on, Lucas. I know you. I saw the hunger on your face, the raw want. You looked at her like you wanted to devour her whole.”
I clench my jaw so hard my teeth ache. “She’s an attractive woman. Of course, I want to fuck her. I’m a red-blooded man, remember? But that’s all it is. Physical desire, nothing more. I can keep my dick in check. I can remember who and what she is.”
“And what’s that?”
“The enemy. A means to an end. A tool to be used and discarded when I’m done with her. She’s a Gant.”
