She'd teach him to understand. If he gave her the chance.
Logan studied the woman across his desk with amusement. Obviously, she regretted her impulsive words but decided to brazen it out. She held her chin high in defiance. Admiration flashed through him. Of course, he'd be insane to accept her offer. There was no sure way to measure the results. There was no guaranteed profit.
There was no way he'd agree to her proposal.
He tapped his pen against the desk in a steady rhythm, and tried to analyze his deep pang of regret at the thought of Chandler Santell walking out the door and out of his life. He heard honest concern and anger in her voice when she lectured him on his work habits. In his long climb up the ladder of success, many people gave advice regarding his next business move, and many shared in his rewards. But no one expressed interest in his personal health, or suggested a move to help him.
His eyes raked over her figure for about the twentieth time. He took in her professional appearance from her tawny polished fingertips matching her honey-hued hair pulled back into a strangled bun, to the high neckline and short wool skirt of her "show-me-the money" green business suit, to her too sensible low heeled black pumps. She projected the image of a serious businesswoman who desired to be accepted into a man's world, but not be particularly noticed by anyone. Especially a man.
The problem, Logan decided, was that Chandler Santell was destined to fail at her goal of men not noticing her.
He knew by the way she unconsciously lifted her hand to check her bun that her hair would spill around her shoulders in riotous waves. Anger made her green eyes flash, which would challenge a man to turn temper into passion. Her lips may be drawn tightly together, but Logan glimpsed the gentle fullness to her mouth, hinting at a certain softness and vulnerability. Her business suit couldn't hide ripe curves, or long slender legs. Even her scent bewitched him; a subtle fragrance of vanilla that teased his senses and kept him from concentrating on their conversation.
As she spoke, he realized beneath her constrained appearance lurked a passionate spirit yearning for freedom. He became intrigued at the thought of tapping into a hidden part of Chandler Santell. He wondered if such a spirit could be tamed to live with one man, or if she'd ever even met a man with enough guts to try.
Chandler expected ice, but his gunmetal gaze drilled into her core as if searching, testing. His eyes were the color of smoke, trapping her with his heat.
"You know a lot about me and my company. But there are certain things in life that even I allow time for." His voice lowered to a deep, caressing pitch breaking the silence. He held the gold pen horizontal between both hands and his fingers met in the middle as he stroked it with slow, fluid motions. "Certain pleasures take away even my driving need to work..."
The pen gleamed against his bronzed skin as strong masculine fingers wrapped around the object and continued the pushing, pulling movements. His touch was light and fleeting. His gaze told her he was thinking of stroking other things. The thought caused liquid fire to race and singe every nerve ending, then pool between her thighs. Her tongue involuntarily dampened her lower lip. She saw him catch the movement, then lay the pen back on his desk. "...for a while," he added softly.
Chandler knew he made a deliberate choice to refrain from questions, even though many were reflected in his eyes before he looked back down at her proposal. The rustle of papers cut through the pulsing silence.
She struggled for composure as she glanced over at Richard Thorne. The attorney's eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he watched her, seemingly interested in her reaction to Logan's words. She cleared her throat. "I apologize for my outburst. I never meant to imply something was wrong with your life, I know you made a choice to work hard for your success." She smiled. "I worry about people too much. I once worked in this type of corporate climate so I've seen the kind of drive and dedication needed to climb to the top. I've also seen the damage. I'd like to help your employees handle their stress so they don't wake up one morning and wonder what their lives are about. I think they deserve more."
Logan Grant was probably one of the most controlled, self-contained men she'd ever met. She bet he carefully analyzed every emotion before he decided to express them, or bury them deep. A pang of regret confirmed her belief about corporate executives. They never let their emotions overrule business decisions. They pushed away messiness and made logic their God. A shiver ran down her spine when she thought of the way his fingers had glided over the pen. Something deep inside told her Logan Grant held many secrets behind a steel barrier, but it would take Superwoman to unveil the ray of vulnerability she glimpsed within his eyes.
She was not Superwoman, and she mustn't forget that he reached the top by being cold-hearted. She needed to be on guard.
Logan nodded. "Apology accepted. I know you have good intentions. But good intentions don't necessarily mean good profits." Chandler braced herself for his next comment.
"Your outline is excellent. Your idea is creative. These figures show how well your clientele is expanding, but I also see your profits aren't what you need to keep the business going. Even with your research, there's still no proof these employees are doing more productive work. So, Chandler, the bottom line is that you want to use my company as a guinea pig because without my money, the Yoga and Arts Center is going under. Richard, do you agree?"
Richard Thorn looked regretful, but gave a nod. "Sorry, Chandler. Personally, I think you have a great plan, but Logan is right. We can't take a chance."
She almost closed her eyes in defeat. She'd been hoping, no betting, that with the proper appearance and some impressive paperwork, he may not see the truth. Of course, she should have known her ruse was a mistake the moment she met him. Logan made CEOs of billion dollar corporations fidget beneath his stare. A novice never had a shot.
"Yes, Mr. Grant. Your bottom line is correct." Surprise flickered over his face, before the mask slammed back down. "So, I'll guarantee a profit."
"How?"
This was the riskiest part of the deal. "Test the program out for a six month trial period. If you don't see a difference, our relationship will be terminated and I'll reimburse you in full."
It was a while before he spoke. When he did, his voice conjured up a number of disturbing images. Heavy velvet pulled over naked skin. Steel sheathed in satin. Smooth silk dragged over rough gravel. Definitely a bedroom voice. Definitely a mass of contradictions she wanted nothing to do with, so Chandler pushed away the thought and concentrated on his words.
"Do you realize your position if I decide to terminate this arrangement?" he asked. "You'd lose everything. If you invest all your capital and efforts into this program and it fails, your client base will be reduced along with your cash flow. Your whole business could go under."
Chandler nodded. "I'm willing to take a risk. If you don't want this offer I have a new list of names to approach. I'm sure one executive will give me a trial run."
Logan glanced at Richard. The attorney shrugged his shoulders. "If she's willing to back up her offer, we have nothing to lose."
Minutes ticked by. Chandler sensed angry waves of energy radiating around Logan, and wondered why he seemed disturbed since she was the one risking everything. She waited patiently for his decision. She knew she'd done everything possible to save the Yoga and Arts Center.
"One gutsy lady," he muttered under his breath.
Her lips curved in a smile. "Do we have a deal?"
"Yes. We have a deal."
He rose from the chair and walked around the desk, reaching out to shake her hand. His fingers wrapped around hers.
Fire.
Possession.
Safety.
She fought for breath as the strange emotions whirled and crashed within her. The touch of his skin against hers made a million butterflies take flight in her stomach. She tried to reassure herself that he held her entire future in his grasp, and her body responded only to the fear of his control. An inner voice screamed s
he was a liar.
A smile played about his lips, as if only he knew the outcome of the game they decided to play. She tugged her hand out of his and caught the amusement in his face.
"Richard will draw up the contract," he said.
"If you don't mind, I'd like to use my own attorney. Harry needs the practice."
One black brow shot up. "Harry?"
"Yes, he's a friend of mine who recently passed the bar exam." Her tone reflected a warm affection. "I promised I'd give him all of my business once he passed the test."
A dark scowl passed over Logan's features. She rushed to alter his anger. "Oh, don't worry, he's perfectly capable of drawing up the contract. He's really a hard worker, besides having a big heart."
"I see." Actually, he didn't. Logan didn't like the raw jealousy that shot through his system when he thought of Chandler belonging to another man. He frowned. This Harry couldn't be right for her. She revealed too much passion behind her proper business suit, and obviously her current lover couldn't handle her.
Knowing he wasn't acting in the rational way he normally handled matters, Logan took a step forward and closed the distance between them. Satisfaction surged through him when he spotted the flicker of awareness in her green eyes. Hmmm, maybe he needed to explore these strange feelings more in depth. To satisfy his curiosity, Logan decided to move quickly.
It looked like she intended to ignore the current of sexual energy crackling through the air, and chose flight. He decided not to let her. "Why don't we get together for dinner tomorrow night?" he asked. "We can discuss the program. We'll be working closely together for a while."
Chandler tilted her head back in order to meet his gaze. The clean scent of soap, lemon, and musk teased her senses. Waves of heat radiated from his skin, pulling her towards him. Chandler took another casual step backward and prayed he wouldn't notice her panic. "Oh, I guess I thought you'd delegate another executive to work with me. I know you're very busy."
He gave her a lazy smile. "When I invest heavily in a project I like to oversee all aspects of the operation." He paused. "Personally."
She nodded in agreement and inched further away. Fine."
Richard moved across the room and stood between them. "Chandler, it was nice to meet you. I'm looking forward to taking your class."
She noticed Logan's surprise at his comment.
Richard laughed and touched her arm briefly. "I discovered yoga and stress reduction a couple of months ago myself." He shifted his feet and grinned sheepishly. "I even meditate."
Her eyes lit up. "Richard, that's wonderful. I can't tell you how rare it is to meet someone in this industry who actually knows about yoga. Do you take classes?"
"I've taken a couple at the local YMCA."
"Richard, we've got a meeting in a few minutes." Logan's words were laced with ice. "I'm sure you'll get an opportunity to talk later."
Richard nodded and said good-bye. Chandler took a step back, and suddenly over six feet of coiled muscle towered over her. She stood frozen in her spot.
"I'll pick you up at seven tomorrow night." Steel gray eyes burned into hers. "We can toast to our new relationship."
With a shudder, Chandler walked out of the office and tried to ignore the flicker of unease, warning her there was hidden meaning in Logan Grant's last statement.
Logan watched Richard Thorne neatly file his papers in his briefcase and set up for the next meeting. His gold embossed cufflinks gleamed in the sunlight as perfectly manicured fingers flipped through the pile of contracts. He was younger than Logan, by a good five years, and possessed an uncanny ability to put people at ease. His eyes reflected a pleasant humor clients immediately warmed up to, but Logan had hired him for a different reason. His laughing smile covered up a brilliant mind who could find a loophole in a clause and maneuver a client to sign on the dotted line. His easy-going nature hid an inward ruthlessness Logan spotted from the first moment. Richard liked the good life, and had more ambition than most people gave him credit for.
"I didn't know you took yoga," Logan said. He walked to the window and leaned against the wall. "Always thought you were more the racquetball type." Richard shrugged. "I like to experiment with different things. I didn't announce it because yoga isn't a popular activity for men."
"Hmmm, I suppose you're right."
"An interesting woman, Chandler Santell." The rustle of papers echoed through the air. "I assume you know who her father is."
An uneasy feeling flickered through Logan, but his voice remained bland when he spoke. "I never meet with a person I haven't researched."
"Thought so." Richard looked up from his briefcase. The attorney's eyes held a gleam of determination. Logan suddenly realized this man had the potential to be dangerous, and made a mental note to watch him more carefully. Though he trusted his attorney with business, he knew Richard hungered for success. Logan didn't intend on becoming one of his attorney's victims on the man's climb for power. "I hear her old man still keeps a close eye on her, even though she wants nothing to do with him. Always wondered why she cut him out of her life."
"Yes. I wonder."
Richard snapped the leather case closed and smiled. "Well, the stress class should be interesting. I'm looking forward to it."
"I thought your case load was too heavy for extra activities."
"Like yourself, I always allow myself time for certain pleasures."
The air sparked with primitive energy. A slight smile played about Logan's lips as he recognized the challenge. He didn't know Richard's game yet, but he intended to find out. In the meantime, he needed to keep a close eye on Chandler Santell.
"Point taken." Logan pushed himself away from the wall and headed toward the conference room. "I hope you're ready to take on Tony Piscetti. I want Global Electronics on board."
Richard's tone held satisfaction. "Somehow, I feel lucky today, boss."
Logan shut his office door behind them.
Chapter 2
*
Sunlight poured through the oversize bay windows of the Yoga and Arts Center and enveloped Chandler in a warm, hazy glow. She breathed deep as the soothing strains of a flute drifted in the air. Her name echoed from the distance but she ignored the sound. She floated in a calm, peaceful state of mind, and knew the moment she opened her eyes reality would intrude. As she slowly brought herself back from her meditation, she became aware of the cool, smooth wood beneath the soles of her bare feet. Her unbound hair fanned out on the mat around her and absorbed the heat of the sun. When the voice became more insistent, she opened her eyes and eased herself up.
Harrison Edward Weston III rushed through the door and stopped short. "Oh! Sorry, Chandler, I didn't know you were meditating."
"Don't worry, I was just finishing up." She rose to her feet and walked to the end of her studio to flip off the CD player. "I need to go over the contract with you, anyway. I want to be prepared for my dinner with Logan Grant."
Harry trailed behind her. His tone held a worried note. "I shouldn't have let you handle the meeting alone. I'm your lawyer, it's my responsibility to protect your interests."
Chandler hid a smile. Ever since she'd met Harry in the sixth grade, she'd looked out for him. Being a year older, she treated him as the younger brother she'd never had, and throughout the years a close friendship evolved, bordering on family affection.
Harry's father still worked in the law firm which handled Alexander Santell's legal matters. They'd often laugh as they reminisced about their common backgrounds, since both of them had been raised in their fathers' offices. After he failed the bar exam, Harry left his father's firm to work as a legal assistant, vowing to achieve success on his own. Her heart broke each time he failed, but she admired the determination her friend showed, swearing he wouldn't quit until he passed the bar.
The mirror on the far wall of her studio reflected an image of a man to be trusted. His curly, dark hair and warm brown eyes drew women toward him, and his friendly smile
helped build him a solid base of clients. His five foot six frame bubbled over with energy, and she always had trouble trying to get him to relax and focus on the task at hand. She enjoyed Harry's company, and relaxed in his presence. With Harry she never worried about any hidden intentions.
Chandler led him toward her back office and watched him sink into the worn cushions of the tattered mauve sofa. "Maybe I should go to dinner with you and Grant." Harry opened his briefcase with a frown. "What if he tries to put one over on you?"
She leaned against the edge of the desk and sighed. "No, I'll be okay. This dinner meeting is a way for him to learn my weaknesses. It's a familiar tactic I learned in the corporate world."
Harry chuckled. "I almost feel sorry for him if he thinks he can intimidate you. Beneath your gentle image lies a mighty core. Four years ago, you were prepared to enter your father's corporation and marry his right-hand man. Your whole future was planned. And at the last minute you left everything behind to take the time to find yourself. You've got guts."
She smiled. Harry understood what it took for her to walk away from everything she thought she wanted. Her disciplines of yoga and meditation helped, strengthening both her body and mind. But late at night, she still heard her father's taunting words the day she walked into his office and found her entire life changed.