One Night With Her Ex: The One That Got Away / The Man From her Wayward Past / The Ex Who Hired Her

‘Restructuring. I was causing bottlenecks. I needed to let go of some of the decision making. We’ll see how it goes.’

‘You don’t sound convinced.’

‘If you want something done right, do it yourself.’

‘So I hear,’ she said with a grin. ‘Just think of all the bold new projects you’ll be able to put your mark on before handing over the boring bits.’

‘There is that,’ he said. ‘I want another week with you.’

‘Before you hand over the boring bits?’

‘You’re not boring, Evangeline. You’re challenging and wise and I’m a little bit terrified of you, but I wouldn’t call you boring.’

‘Would you call me submissive?’

A long pause from Logan; as if he knew he’d be judged on his answer. ‘Not in general,’ he said finally. ‘Although on occasion you’re willing to relinquish control to a more dominant sexual partner.’

‘Good answer,’ she said softly.

‘Come to London, Evie. Come visit me. Same deal as I had with you. A hotel room for when and if you need it and an invitation to join me at my house should you so choose.’

‘Logan—’

‘Don’t say no. It won’t cost you anything but your time. First-class travel, with a stopover at, say, a landmark hotel in Dubai?’

‘Are you serious?’

‘Do you feel valued yet?’

‘Remind me to tell you the difference between being valued and being bought.’

‘Does that mean you don’t want to experience the delights of a seven-star hotel?’

‘Wash your mouth out,’ she said. ‘It could mean I never actually reach London.’

‘Now who’s feeling undervalued?’

‘Hey, you started this,’ she reminded him. ‘Will you join me at the hotel in Dubai?’

‘You don’t like us together in hotel rooms, remember?’

‘I’d like us in this one.’

‘How does next week sound?’

‘I can’t do next week,’ she said with a grimace she was glad Logan couldn’t see. ‘We’ll know if we landed the civic centre job by Wednesday next week and I want to be here to either celebrate or commiserate.’

‘Hnh.’ Logan sounded ever so slightly annoyed.

‘Don’t people ever say no to you?’ she murmured.

‘People often say no to me,’ he countered. ‘My job is getting them to change their minds.’

‘I’m not going to change my mind.’

‘I know that, Evie. Hence the hnh. I’m just thinking ahead to what’s coming up on my schedule that I can move around, that’s all.’

‘Oh.’ It wouldn’t hurt for her to give some credit to the pressures of his job while she was busy getting him to consider the challenges of hers. ‘You’ll be working through the day while I’m there, though, right? Same deal as when you were here and I went to work only this time I fit in around you?’

‘You don’t want to spend the entire week in Dubai?’

‘No. One night should do it. On one condition.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Promise you’ll play tennis with me on the helipad.’

‘Max, you’re wearing out the floorboards,’ said Evie. ‘And you’re driving me insane.’ It was four-thirty on Wednesday afternoon and the reason that Max was driving her insane was that there was still no word on the civic centre bid. ‘No news is good news.’

‘I hate platitudes,’ said Max. ‘We didn’t get it. We almost got married for nothing.’

‘You almost got married?’ asked a startled Carlo, who was hovering there with them, waiting on that call. Jeremy was there too—a junior site engineer who’d been with them for two years. So was Kit, one of their electrical subcontractors. Nervous people with nothing to do but wait on a phone call that hadn’t yet come.

‘It’s a long story,’ said Evie. ‘Max wanted to marry me for his money but wiser heads prevailed. Besides … that was before I met his big brother.’

‘Impressive?’ asked Kit.

‘Be still my beating heart.’

‘Evie, one more platitude out of you and violence will ensue,’ threatened Max. ‘C’mon phone. Ring.’

‘A watched pot never boils,’ said Kit.

‘I thought it was “kettle”,’ offered Jeremy. ‘A watched kettle never—’

And then the phone rang and shut them all up.

Suddenly it wasn’t so much fun to tease Max any more. He’d thrown everything he had at this job and if they didn’t get it he was going to be gutted. Carlo headed for his office cubicle, taking Jeremy with him. Kit eyed Max warily and then said, ‘Got any biscuits in the tea room?’ and took himself off.

Evie debated heading for her office but Max grabbed her by the wrist and mouthed ‘Stay,’ as he listened intently to whatever the person on the other end of that phone was saying.

Max let her wrist go when she nodded, and then Evie sat on the edge of the table and tucked her hands beneath her legs and waited. Max resumed his pacing. Evie most definitely wanted to land this job. But her heart wasn’t in it the way Max’s was.

‘Yes,’ said Max, and, ‘yes,’ again. All very restrained.

The smile that swept across his handsome features moments later was not so restrained. Max’s smile thought it was Christmas and there was a pony under the tree.

He laughed and said he was looking forward to it. He set up a meeting for tomorrow morning. And then he got the hell off the phone.

‘We got it,’ he said. ‘We got it!’

‘Of course we did,’ said Evie as Max swept her up into a bear hug and swung her around. ‘MEP’s architect is a visionary, the company’s on its way up and the price was right. What time is it in London?’

‘Ah, early morning? Seven-thirty? You calling Logan?’

‘Texting him, to be safe. I’m telling him we’re about to spend his money.’

‘So … you’re talking again?’ asked Max. ‘There’s been contact?’

‘There has. And I didn’t have to instigate it.’

‘That’s good,’ said Max. ‘That’s very good.’ He squeezed her once more before releasing her. ‘Kit,’ he bellowed. ‘Break out the beer.’

The party started at the office and moved to the local bar, where there was more food and a better beverage selection than the one they had at the office. Their concreter turned up with a few of his crew—nothing like the promise of more work and free drinks to raise a man’s spirits. Evie’s spirits too, and who cared if she got ribbed for drinking champagne rather than beer? Not her problem if her co-workers preferred beer. Not her job to tell them to cease with the swearing, although she had a feeling that most of them did try to curb their language around her, which boggled the mind given the curses that still slipped through.

‘How about asking Juliet Grace to come and be our new project manager?’ she said as Max reached past her to put his empty beer glass down and pick up a handful of peanuts. ‘She’s detail oriented, most of us know her, or know of her, and she can handle this lot.’

‘A woman.’ Max eyed her dubiously.

‘Careful, Max. Your biases are showing.’

‘I’m not biased. I’m thinking.’

Evie laughed; she couldn’t help it. ‘Do you think more beer will help?’

Logan stood outside the busy Sydney bar and watched as the slim woman with the raven-black hair and wicked smile signalled the barman for another round of drinks. Max stood with her and so did at least a dozen other men. Labourers half of them, they looked as if they’d come straight from a job. A tight-knit group, intent on celebration, and it was clear that Evie was one of them. Accepted by them. Protected by them, even if she didn’t know it.

Though she probably did.

Evie had texted him that they’d won the contract. That particular message had been waiting for him when he’d got off the plane in Sydney.

He should have texted Evie back. Should have said, ‘I’m in Sydney. Where are you?’

But uncertainty was riding him hard this evening and he’d texted Max instead.

It didn’t look as if Max had told Evie that Logan was on his way. She didn’t look like a woman who was waiting for her lover to walk through the door. Evangeline Jones had a very fine habit of extracting pleasure from the moment—no angst-ing required.

Logan envied her.

The amount of anguish that had gone into Logan’s decision to get on a plane so that he could be with Evie and Max come civic centre decision time could have filled the Pacific. Would Evie find it presumptuous? Would Max? Would they want him there?

All he knew was that for the first time in his life he was reaching out and wanting to be a part of something,

as opposed to keeping everything and everyone at arm’s length.

Arm’s length being the distance whereby he couldn’t inadvertently hurt anyone and they couldn’t hurt him.

Logan watched as some moron bumped Evie in the shoulder as he turned away from the bar with a tray full of drinks in hand. He watched as Max automatically slung his arm around Evie’s shoulder and drew her to his side.

Logan didn’t viciously resent Evie and Max’s camaraderie. He didn’t catch his breath and look down at the concrete beneath his feet in an attempt to manage that part of him that wanted to take Max apart, piece by bloody piece, for daring to touch what was his. Not him.

He looked back and tried to not want to beat his brother bloody.

Nope. Still no luck letting go of that particular desire.

He was so screwed.

Logan watched as Evie moved out from beneath Max’s shoulder and settled herself on a barstool. Men at her back and beside her and the table beneath her elbow now. Protected on all fronts. Also hogging the peanuts.

What if she didn’t want to make room for Logan in her life tonight?

Because it was one thing for Max to know that Logan and Evie were tangling. It was quite another to walk in there and stake his claim on her in front of people she had to work with. God knew he had no desire to undermine her authority.

Maybe if he didn’t stake his claim—just went in there and kept his hands and his mouth off her.

Be Max’s brother rather than Evie’s lover. Keep everything casual and easy—no biting jealousy or had-to-see-you-again obsession here. If he could do that …

It was a pretty big if.

Moments later Logan’s phone beeped.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ the message from his brother read, and he looked up and his brother was fiddling with his phone and Evie was deep in laughing conversation with the giant across the table from her.

Another text from Max. ‘You want a gold-plated invitation?’

The short answer being yes. Either that or a machete to cut through the mess of thoughts and feelings roiling round inside him.

With a shake of his head, Logan pocketed his phone and headed for the open doorway of the bar. He’d know soon enough if he’d done the right thing by coming here.

And he’d take her dismay straight up, if that was what she served him.

The noise level was high as Logan stepped inside. The smell of hops permeated the air. Not exactly an upscale establishment, this one. Cheerful though. And then Max lifted his arm and gestured him over and bent to whisper something in Evie’s ear and she whipped around and the smile that lit her face wrapped around Logan’s heart and wouldn’t let go.

Her smile said she didn’t consider his presence an intrusion.

Her smile telegraphed a message Logan had waited a lifetime to hear.

Pleasure—not pain—because he was near.

Max snagged Evie’s champagne glass from her as she pushed through the circle of men and headed straight for him and then she was in his arms and her lips were on his and she tasted of strawberries and champagne and generous, genuine welcome.

If ever there was a time to keep his wits about him this was it, but the kiss deepened anyway, capturing him so completely that there was no room for anything else. Only Evie.

Wolf whistles helped him to remember where he was.

Evie’s reckless smile told him she knew exactly where she was and that she didn’t mind laying claim to him in public in the slightest. She brushed her thumb over his lips and kissed him swiftly once more, and then took him by the arm and propelled him forward towards the group she’d been sitting with.

‘Everyone, this is Logan Black. He bankrolls us from time to time. He’s also Max’s brother.’

Max picked up two drinks from the table—a whisky shot and a beer chaser. ‘You’re going to have to catch up,’ he said, and handed them to Logan.

Max’s casual welcome worked to soothe Logan some. The welcome said, ‘I know damn well you’ve never been this invested in my successes before, but I’m open to it no matter what the reason. You’re my brother. You want in, you’re in.’

‘Doesn’t seem entirely wise,’ said Logan, but he took the drinks anyway, sent the whisky straight down and set the beer on the table for later. ‘Congratulations on landing the job.’

‘Thanks.’ Max clasped Logan’s forearm to his. ‘Couldn’t have done it without you. You just get in?’

‘Yeah.’

‘You knew he was coming in?’ asked Evie.

‘Surprise,’ said Max and grinned, warm and wide,

at Evie’s narrow-eyed glare. ‘Who says I can’t keep a secret?’

‘It was very last-minute,’ Logan offered by way of lame excuse. ‘Didn’t know if I’d make it in time.’

‘You came straight from the plane?’

Logan rubbed ruefully at his bristly jaw—he’d last shaved back in London, about thirty hours ago by his count. ‘Why? Does it show?’

‘To your extreme advantage,’ said Evie dryly. ‘You are so pretty when you get all tousled and unshaven. Have you eaten?’

‘No.’

‘Most of this lot will clear out in another hour or so. I was planning on grabbing a meal somewhere nearby with your brother. Which should in no way be construed as a date,’ she added with a touch of anxiety.

‘I’ll keep that in mind.’ He liked that little hint of anxiousness in her. He liked it a lot. And hated himself for it. His father had kept his mother anxious, always one breath away from outright fear. God, he remembered her fear. This wasn’t the same.

Dear God, make it not be the same.

‘You want to come along?’ she asked next.

‘Yeah.’ Logan ran a hand through his hair and looked to the bar rather than at Evie.

‘Yeah, that’d be good,’ he muttered.

‘What’s good?’ asked Max.

‘Food.’

‘When?’

‘Whenever you’re done here.’ He wasn’t jealous of the bond Evie shared with Max. He wasn’t.

‘One more round,’ said Max and Logan nodded.

‘Max’s happy,’ he said as his brother turned away.

‘Very,’ replied Evie. ‘There’ll be no living with him after this. He’s going to drive the workmen on this project bonkers. Fortunately, I have a solution. Her name’s Juliet Grace.’

‘She’s going to distract him?’

‘Not at all. Juliet’s a construction manager with forty years’ worth of high-end project management under her belt.’ Evie smiled sagely. ‘She’s going to control him.’

Evie made Logan feel wanted. There was no other explanation for the warmth in his body and the smile that came so readily to his lips. Easy to make an effort to fit in when a person felt wanted. Cost him nothing to satisfy people’s curiosity about what he did for a living and to grin and wear it when one of them asked him where he’d been all Evie’s life. ‘He’s mine,’ Evie told them more than once. ‘All mine. I saw him first.’

‘But I have a puppy,’ called Kit. ‘I bet Logan likes puppies.’

‘I have goldfish,’ said another pure soul.

‘I have breasts,’ said Evie smugly and Logan almost choked on his beer as Kit pouted and the men around him roared. She knew how to handle her subbies, damned if she didn’t.

‘Max, you got another brother?’ asked Kit.

Max shook his head and met Logan’s gaze with an affectionate one of his own. ‘One’s enough.’

‘Cousin?’ asked Kit, and Max glanced back at Kit with a quick grin.

‘She’s married.’

‘Guess you’ll have to do,’ said Kit with a devil’s slow grin.

And Max blushed.

Logan leaned in towards Evie and she made it easy for him by tucking into the circle of his arms. ‘Did my brother just blush?’ he whispered in her ear.

‘You’re very astute.’

‘Are they—?’ Shock robbed him of words.

‘Not yet.’

‘But has he ever—?’ Still no words.

‘You mean has Max ever? Not that I know of, but it wouldn’t surprise me. Kit’s not the type to persist when he knows the other guy’s straight. And he has been persisting. Which means Max hasn’t yet given him a definitive no.’

‘Who is this Kit?’ he wanted to know. ‘What does he do?’

‘Protective,’ murmured Evie and wove her fingers through his. ‘I like that. Kit’s an electrician. Runs his own company. Subcontracts on big commercial jobs, mainly. Shopping centres. Stadiums. High rises. Jobs that are worth his while. Subcontracts for us every so often on jobs that aren’t always worth his while.’

‘Fancy that.’

‘Yes, he does.’

Logan looked from his brother to the tanned, blue-eyed blond called Kit, who’d abandoned his pursuit of Max in favour of watching football on the big screen. Was Max really falling for this man? Did that mean he was reassessing his sexual preferences? Or had he always been looking in that direction and Logan had just never noticed? God! Logan was going to have to rethink every last memory of his brother that he had. ‘How did I miss this? I need to get home more.’

‘Your brother thinks the world of you, Logan,’ said

Evie, and there was something approaching seriousness in her voice. ‘Wouldn’t hurt.’

Logan watched the game on the big screen for a moment or two before turning his attention back to the man who apparently had a puppy and wasn’t afraid to use it. ‘Hey, Kit. What’s the score?’

‘Nil all.’ Kit shot them a darkly amused glance. ‘I’ll let you know if anyone scores.’

Evie grinned.

‘Next time, warn me,’ muttered Logan.

‘Next time, call me when you’re coming to visit,’ countered Evie. ‘And I will. They’ve been circling one another all week. Best show in town. Mind you, that’s what Max says about us.’

‘Evangeline, do you and Max have any distance between you whatsoever when it comes to your personal lives?’

‘Some.’ Evie held up her forefinger and thumb an inch or so apart and turned her head so that she could see his eyes. ‘We’re friends who work together. We’re in each other’s face all day and we know what’s going on in each other’s lives. There’s no lust. It shouldn’t bother you.’ Apparently she could see that it did. ‘You shouldn’t let it bother you,’ she said firmly, and brought his hand up to her lips and pressed a quick kiss to the knuckle of his thumb.

Eventually, the MEP crowd thinned. Max kept smiling but seemed somewhat preoccupied. The swaggering Kit had ambled over to the snooker tables in the far corner of the room and started playing. Money was changing hands. Kit looked as if he was working towards finding trouble. Logan eyed the rest of the sharks over by the pool tables. He wouldn’t have to wait long.

‘Ready to go find something to eat?’ Max asked them, with a swift glance in Kit’s direction.

‘Your call,’ said Logan, for it was Max’s party. ‘He coming too?’

Max shot him a sharp glance.

Logan shrugged and raised an eyebrow. Acknowledgement, if that was what his brother wanted. An innocent question if not.

‘I—ah.’ Max glanced Kit’s way again and this time the other man turned around and caught his eye. Long glances were exchanged before Max turned away. ‘No. I don’t know what I’m doing there. Probably not a good idea to do it in front of you two.’

‘Stay here, then,’ offered Logan. ‘See if your pool-hustling friend wants to grab a bite to eat with just you and then stumble around all you want. Who’s going to see?’

Max laughed tightly. ‘He’ll see. Lord, I’ve got no experience with this. None.’

‘Chances are Kit knows that,’ offered Evie.

‘You don’t mind?’ asked Max gruffly, and his question wasn’t just for Evie. Max was looking at Logan with something that looked a lot like pleading.

‘It’s your call,’ he said again, not knowing what other assurances to give his brother, and hell would freeze over before he started dishing out advice. ‘I’ll run with whatever you want.’

Max glanced back towards Kit again, and that was enough for Logan. ‘We’re going. You’re staying. Not sure I ever want details.’

‘Amen to that,’ said Max and with a wry nod he headed towards Kit.

Evie tucked in beside Logan as they left the pub. She put her hand in the crook of his arm and every time her shoulder brushed his Logan felt tension leave his body. It was the most relaxed Logan had felt in over a week. ‘What do you want to eat?’ she asked him.

‘Thai?’

‘Perfect.’

Even the way she said perfect was perfect. Evie embraced the now better than anyone else he knew.

‘Damn, I’m glad you’re here,’ she said, bumping his arm this time and making Logan grin. ‘What brings you here? Apart from me.’

Cocky. Entitled. And damned if he didn’t love that about her too.

‘I came because of Max too. I just wanted to be here when the civic centre decision came through.’

‘Good for you,’ she said. ‘Good for me. How long can you stay?’

‘I have a morning flight to Perth. I need to be back in London in three days’ time.’

Evie stopped abruptly. ‘One day? Not even that?’

‘Work’s a little crazy right now. I’m sorting it.’

‘Why didn’t you say so earlier?’ Evie’s hands were on her hips, her eyes telegraphing irritation. ‘We could have left that pub an hour ago. You could have been in my bed by now. Where’s your brain?’

Nowhere close by.

There was a shadowy shopfront doorway just a few steps away and Logan took full advantage of it, pulling Evie into the darkness along with him and backing her up against the wall. He’d been holding back all evening, knowing that the eyes of people she worked with were on them. Never undermine the boss’s authority. Golden rule of business, so he’d packed his need to stake his claim on her away and kept his hands and his mouth to himself for the most part.

But there were no work colleagues watching them now.

Threading his fingers through hers, Logan brought Evie’s hands above her head and leaned in to capture her lips in a kiss so deeply consuming that he feared he might forget his own name.

Though there’d be no forgetting hers.

Evie moaned, deep down in her chest, and her fingers closed tightly over his.

A gasp from Evie as he moved on from her mouth and set tongue to that little V between shoulder and neck. A whimper from him as her body arched in search of his. Hands at her waist now, gathering her close.

‘Logan, please. Let me take you home,’ she whispered, with her hands in his hair and her mouth to his temple. ‘Please, before I come apart. There’s food in the fridge, I can feed you if you’re hungry, just—the things I want to do to you—I don’t want an audience. Just you.’

Logan groaned and loosened his hold. ‘Hire-car keys are in my front pocket,’ he told her and groaned anew when she found them. ‘I swear the car’s around here somewhere. Back the other way.’

So they went back the other way and found the car and Evie drove them home. He didn’t touch her until the door of her apartment shut behind her. He didn’t dare. And then he dropped his overnight case by the door and looked at her and then she was in his arms and sanctuary was his along with salvation.

He didn’t want to have to take control tonight; he’d never be able to maintain it. But she didn’t ask it of him, just got busy with the removal of his clothes until it was skin on skin and hunger driving them, no room for any other edges between them this time.

Too many stairs to make it to the bedroom and the sofa was right there, soft and wide and the cushions could go and he could be on his back with Evie sliding over him, right there, for ever there.