Winter Ice

  "Now, about this discount," Santiago started, and Logan fought the urge to roll his eyes. Same thing every year. They'd argue back and forth, Logan would give him the discount he wanted, and Santiago would want one penny more off that.

  Which, of course, he'd agree to, since Logan knew exactly how to deal with this man. Soon, hopefully, so would Aidan and Melissa. Then he could ignore the multimillion dollar cheapskate in the future.

  He'd tuned out Santiago, well-versed in the man's argumentative nature, and turned his attention to the window. A colorful skirt caught his eye as it sailed past the window, the familiarity of it making his heart lurch in his chest.

  He could swear he heard bells tinkling around her ankles.

  Sophie. With that long raven hair flying in the breeze, it could only be her.

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  A rush of sensation came over him, a feeling of desire so intense it was all he could do to remain seated. The urge to go after her was strong, almost as if he was in a trance and some unknown force pulled at him. Something too strong to resist. God knows he tried, but he couldn't even turn his head to listen to the conversation at the table. His focus was on Sophie. He needed to go to her.

  Now.

  "Excuse me for a minute," he mumbled not even looking at his tablemates. He rose and hurried out the door in her direction.

  His feet moved of their own volition. He didn't even know where he was going, only that he had to get "there".

  "There" turned out to be Cosmic Connection, just on the outskirts of the Quarter. He opened the door, his senses assaulted by the scent of patchouli and cinnamon.

  Incense burned in small jars on top of all the glass display cases. The shop was tiny, jam-packed with all kinds of voodoo and magic things. Tarot cards, crystal balls, beads, incense, candles, books of spells, magic wands, just about anything imaginable.

  What the fuck was he doing in here, anyway?

  A beautiful young woman with strawberry-blonde hair approached, her amber eyes showing intense interest. When she smiled, she lit up the room. "Hi. I'm Samantha.

  Can I help you with something?"

  He stared at her, but for some reason he couldn't find his voice. Probably because he had no idea what he'd even say. "I...I..."

  Great. Now he was babbling.

  "Hey there. I'm Joshua. You looking for something? Or maybe someone?"

  He turned toward the sound of a male voice behind the counter. A tall, well-built guy in his mid-twenties with wavy brown hair approached him. Logan shook his head negatively, not sure how to answer.

  And he hadn't even had alcohol with lunch.

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  Suddenly the colorful skirt he'd spotted at the restaurant breezed through the hanging beads separating the main shop from another room. The skirt was attached to the object of his search.

  "Sophie," he managed, finally able to find his voice long enough to utter her name.

  She smiled and her violet eyes seemed to dance with light. "Logan."

  He picked up her scent, similar to the sweet patchouli fragrance of the shop. Only muskier, more sensual, like the woman wearing it. When she moved, bells jangled around her wrists and feet.

  At a loss for words, he could only stare at her, oblivious to the other man and woman in the shop.

  "We need to talk," she said, slipping her arm through his and leading him into the other room. He turned to offer an apology to the others for being so rude and not speaking, but what was he going to say? Sorry, I'm in a trance right now?

  She sat him down at a square wood table centering what looked like a sultan's palace. Soft pillows in jeweled colors brightened a small beige couch against the wall.

  Tapestries of faeries and dragons decorated the walls, and the only light came from the fifty or so candles scattered throughout the room.

  Hell, it was sexy in here. Exotic, sensuous and inviting. Despite not knowing what compelled him to come, he relaxed. Possibly because of the beautiful woman who graced him with a warm smile, though his thoughts about her were anything but relaxing.

  "I'm so glad you came. I knew you would."

  He started to object, but then she reached for his hands, sliding her palms over his fingers. He jerked as a shot of pure electricity soared through his body, hardening him in an instant.

  Damn! What the hell was that?

  She massaged his fingers lightly, and he began to breathe heavily.

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  "I need to tell your future," she said, her voice soft and raspy. The kind of voice a man wanted whispering in his ear when his cock was buried deep inside her. The kind of voice that a man would love to hear begging him to fuck her harder, faster. Logan shifted to accommodate his erection, mentally damning himself for the weakness that had suddenly surfaced within him.

  "You don't know my future," he objected, starting to feel ridiculous for even being in this place.

  "Oh, but you're wrong. While I don't know it all, I do know some things. That's why I wanted to see you again. I have something to tell you. Something urgent."

  This should be good. "Okay, go ahead."

  The smile left her face. "Your family is in danger."

  Priceless. "Really."

  She nodded. "Yes. Grave danger. Unfortunately, I don't know the time or place it will occur, but something bad will happen very soon."

  Could she be more vague? He almost laughed. "That's not telling me much, cher.

  Easy to see how you could successfully predict the future with information like that."

  "I knew you wouldn't believe me. You'll just have to trust me. You must be on your guard because you are the catalyst. Somehow this revolves around you."

  "Okay, I have a question."

  "Sure."

  "Do people actually pay you money for this crap?"

  He expected her to be angry. Instead, she nodded and smiled. "Actually, they do.

  Because I'm always right."

  He pulled his hands away and crossed his arms. "What do you tell them? That someday they're going to die? That the stock market will go up one day and down the next? That the local candidate running for office has a 50/50 chance of being elected over his opponent?"

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  This whole fortune-telling thing was ludicrous, and he wasn't going to stay here a minute longer. He stood and headed toward the exit.

  "Logan, wait!"

  She rose and approached, stopping inches away from him. Tilting her neck back to meet his gaze, she said, "Please trust me on this. I've had visions about you...very strong ones. You and I are fated to--"

  "Hang on a second. Fated? Like destined?"

  "Yes."

  "Holy shit!" He couldn't believe it. How could she do this to him? Dear God, how old did she think he was, anyway? "My mother put you up to this, didn't she? First the thing in the alley, and now this."

  "Your mother? I don't know your mother."

  He wasn't buying her confused frown. "Sure you do. Petite woman, busybody. I'll bet she convinced you that you and I shared some kind of fate, right?"

  Sophie shook her head. "No, Logan. I've never met your mother. Sometimes you have to take things on pure faith."

  He laughed. "Faith? In you? I have no more faith in you than the phony fortune-teller at a carnival midway, honey. Now if you'll excuse me, there's someplace I need to be."

  Like at the business meeting he'd left abruptly. How the hell was he going to explain leaving like that?

  Maybe he needed a vacation. The stress was getting to him.

  He moved to leave, but she reached out and touched his arm. He looked at her, refusing to believe the vulnerability in her beseeching gaze. "Please, Logan, you don't know how important this is. You must be on your guard."

  Tired of this ridiculous game, he grabbed her arms and hauled her against his chest, ignoring the feel of her full breasts pressing against him. "The only person
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  Winter Ice

  on my guard against is you." He pulled his wallet out of his coat and slammed it on the table. "People like you are driven by this," he said, pointing to the leather billfold stuffed with greenbacks.

  "I don't want your money, Logan," she whispered.

  "Bullshit. That's the only thing people like you want. Money. Greed and opportunity are your companions. I don't know what kind of game you and my mother have concocted, but I'm not going to play. Understand?"

  She shook her head again, her eyes wide pools of purple, darkening with desire.

  Her body flamed to life like an inferno, burning his hands with her heat. He quickly dropped his arms to his sides, still feeling the scorching fire she emanated.

  "I know why you're doing this," she said. "You're afraid of the feelings I bring out in you."

  He arched a brow, unable to believe her arrogant conceit. "I don't feel a damn thing for you."

  "You're lying. To me and to yourself. I can feel what you feel, Logan. I know, because I have the same need. We have to be one. It's fated."

  Boiling anger raged within him. He hated being manipulated. "No, sweetheart. We don't have to be anything. We're not going to be anything."

  "I won't give up on you, Logan. You need me. And I need you."

  When her lips parted and her tongue flicked out to lick her bottom lip, he lost it.

  Well and completely lost it. Fury mixed with desire and he could no longer separate the stronger emotion. All he knew was that he had to touch her.

  Right now.

  He absorbed her gasp when his mouth descended over hers.

  Sophie fought for breath under Logan's punishing kiss. He meant to hurt her, to frighten her, but he'd failed. Instead, the warm cream of her desire spilled onto her 19

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  panties and her nipples hardened as he pulled her closer. His heart beat as frantically as hers, and she wound her fingers into the soft darkness of his hair, tangling her tongue against his and drinking in his groan as his fingers found her hips.

  He rocked his erection against her mound and she cried out into his mouth as shooting sparks flamed her cunt. She was throbbing, aching, desperate to feel his hard shaft buried inside her. That night in the alley had filled her dreams for a week now, making her want with an intensity that kept her awake nights. She'd brought herself to orgasm after orgasm visualizing Logan fucking that redhead, until the images blurred and the redhead became her. Yet she was never satisfied. That lingering desire blasted full force now, and she whimpered when he squeezed her buttocks and pulled her tighter against his hard-on.

  Desperate to feel him, she reached between them and palmed his cock, rewarded with a muttered curse that tore from his lips like an accusation. She didn't care. She knew his desire, knew he'd dreamed of her the same way she'd dreamed of him. He could deny it all he wanted to, but the fact was, they would make love someday.

  And if he wanted it right now, she'd give it to him. She didn't want to wait another minute.

  He moved one hand over her hip and rib cage, then settled on her breast, easily finding the distended nipple through the thin cotton of her blouse. When he rolled the bud between his fingers, she cried out and arched her back, needing more of the sweet torment.

  Goddess, she could come right now just from him petting her nipple.

  But then a shock of cold air swept into the room, a frigid breeze blowing out half the candles. Logan stepped away and she opened her eyes.

  The heat that had been there seconds ago was gone, replaced by the icy chill of his anger.

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  "You aren't my type, Sophie. We have nothing in common. You don't have a damn thing I'm interested in. Leave me alone." Turning quickly on his heel, he strode through the beads. She followed, trying to calm the raging desire that hadn't yet abated.

  She knew this wasn't going to be easy. Why she had thought he'd come in here today and take her words as true had been nothing more than wishful thinking on her part.

  But she wouldn't give up. She couldn't. His life and the lives of his family depended on her persistence.

  Her gaze swept to Samantha's wide-eyed look of surprise, then over to Joshua's glare. Logan paused, nodded curtly to both of them and left the shop without another word.

  He'd left without believing in her.

  But she wouldn't think of this as a failure.

  After all, he had come here, had heard her calling to him.

  This was just going to take time. And she'd take whatever time necessary to assure his safety. It was her destiny to do so.

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  Chapter Three

  Logan stormed out of the shop and ran smack into Aidan, who smiled and arched a brow.

  "Did you have some urgent need to have your fortune told? Maybe a burning desire to buy some tarot cards?"

  Shit, shit, shit! This he did not need. He tried to brush past Aidan, but his brother wouldn't allow it. He grabbed Logan's arm. "We took care of Santiago, so you don't have any reason to hurry back. We really want to hear this story."

  Logan looked behind Aidan to see Lissa standing there, her eyes as wide as saucers.

  She probably thought he'd lost his mind.

  She was probably right.

  "I don't want to talk about it," he said.

  "You don't have to. We'll just ask the beautiful woman behind you."

  Logan turned to find Sophie standing in the doorway. She stepped toward him and handed him his wallet.

  "You forgot this. I'm glad I caught you before you left." She turned to Aidan and Lissa and smiled, holding out her hand. "Hello. I'm Sophie Breaux."

  The day had just gone completely to hell. Aidan and Lissa waited expectantly.

  Christ, he didn't want to do this!

  "Sophie, this is my brother Aidan and his fiancee, Melissa."

  "Call me Lissa. I love your shop. I've passed by it many times, but haven't had a chance to go in. All this magic stuff intrigues me," she added, winking at Aidan.

  Sophie beamed. "Thank you! Please, come inside and let me show you around."

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  Before he could object, and really, what would he have said to Lissa anyway, she followed Sophie inside, leaving him standing there with Aidan.

  A very curious Aidan, knowing his nosy brother.

  "Well?"

  "Well, what?" Although there was no sense in playing dumb.

  "Who's la belle jeune fille?"

  "Just a woman I met."

  Arching a brow, Aidan said, "She doesn't really look your type."

  Logan didn't even know he had a "type". "I'm not dating her, Aidan."

  "Then what are you doing with her?"

  "Nothing."

  "Didn't look like nothing to me. C'mon, mon frere, you don't just date women. And you sure as hell don't take off in the middle of a business meeting to follow a pretty skirt. So, give me the details."

  "She's nobody. Nothing to me. I met her a week or so ago and she thinks she can con me."

  "Con you. How?"

  "Aidan! Do you know what Sophie does?"

  Logan turned at the sound of Lissa's voice. She was grinning and tugging at Aidan's hand.

  "No, cher, tell me what Sophie does."

  "She's a fortune-teller. And a damn good one, too."

  Aidan smirked at Logan and then grinned at Lissa. "Oh yeah?"

  "Yes. You should see the stuff in her shop. And she comes from a long line of voodoo priestesses."

  Voodoo? Logan didn't know that. Priestess? Sophie?

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  Bullshit.

  "Voodoo, huh?" Aidan said, shifting his gaze to Sophie.

  "My grandmere was Lisette Pilar," Sophie added quietly.

  Lisette Pilar was a very famous Creole woman whose voodoo magic was legendary in New Orleans. Which didn't mean a damn thing as far as Sophi
e's legitimacy as a fortune-teller. Logan turned away, refusing to notice the way her dark lashes swept against her sculpted cheekbones when she bowed her head.

  As if she was embarrassed. The woman was one hell of an actress.

  "It's all for show," Logan said.

  Lissa's eyes widened. "Are you kidding me? It is not. She told me things that..."

  "What? She told you what?"

  Lissa blushed. "Trust me. She's the real deal." Quickly turning away from Logan's glare, she looked at Aidan. "Anyway, wouldn't she be great as entertainment for the Mardi Gras ball at the hotel?"

  Aidan pursed his lips. "An authentic voodoo priestess? In full costume?" His eyes gleamed and he grinned.

  Lissa nodded. "Exactly. We'll make the patrons pay a bundle for her services.

  Sophie will get a cut, and the rest will go toward the children's charity fund."

  Damn. Charity. Leave it to Lissa to let her heart bleed all over the street.

  "Bad idea," Logan said.

  "Great idea," Aidan countered. "I love it. Sophie, you interested?"

  Sophie looked from Aidan to Logan. Logan hoped the frosty look he leveled at her would dissuade her from doing something really stupid. Like agreeing to perform at the ball.

  Her full lips curved in a soft smile. Clearly, she wasn't the least bit intimidated by Logan's trademark glare. "I'd be honored to participate, as long as you don't pay me anything. I'd love to contribute to the children's charity fund," she replied.

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  "Wonderful!" Lissa exclaimed. "Aidan, come inside the shop and look around with me. I have so much to tell you."

  "You two go back inside," Aidan said. "I need to talk to Logan for a minute. I'll be right there."

  After the women left, Aidan turned to him. "Okay, now don't give me the crap you did before. Tell me what Sophie is to you."

  Logan jammed his hands in his coat pockets. "She's nothing to me. I told you that already."

  "If she's nothing, why did you leave the meeting and follow her? And why did you let her tell your fortune?"

  "I don't want to talk about this. She's a fraud, Aidan. I don't want her at the ball.

  She'll embarrass the family."

  "First off, she's gorgeous and she'll draw a crowd. Second, if Lissa says she's legit, then she is. Lissa would never put the business in a compromising position and you know that."