Page 28 of Never Sleep with the Enemy

“I didn’t say that.” His attention lingers, softer now, almost pensive. “Would you believe me if I told you that you were my favorite?”

I blink twice. “Your favorite what?”

“Well, you’re clearly the most talented member of Criminal Records,” he says, like it’s an objective fact.

I huff out a laugh. “I am?”

“Anyone with two ears can hear it.” He leans in slightly. “And anyone with two eyes can see how beautiful you are, so… yes. You are my favorite.”

I fall quiet, caught off guard. I don’t even know how to reply to something like that.

“Of course I helped you,” he says. “You’d do the same for me. Or for one of my girls, I suspect.”

“Right,” I murmur, still thrown. But the surprise fades quickly, replaced by something else. “For you or one of your… girls.” I glance at the bed. “Well, I’ll get out of your hair so Tesla can come back.”

“We’re not together.”

I hesitate, mid-step. “You’re not?”

“I don’t get involved with people I work with.”

“Oh, I assumed…” I swallow. “The three of you always seem so… close.”

“We are. But not like that. Goldie and Tesla, however…” He smirks. “They love each other very much.”

“Oh.” Heat rises to my cheeks. “Well, that’s nice. Good for them.”

Logan nods.

I shift a step back, determined to keep moving, to fight against the invisible tether that keeps dragging me toward him. “Still, I should?—”

“If you’ll allow,” Logan interrupts, giving that tether a gentle tug. “I have something I’d like to ask you. If you’ll answer truthfully, that is.”

I straighten and nod.

“You’re beautiful,” he says.

“That’s a question?”

“You’re talented beyond measure,” he continues. “And yet, they always stick you all the way in the back. Why?”

His unexpected words settle at the base of my spine, warm and prickly. “Well, I’m just a pianist,” I say.

Logan stares, unsatisfied. Demanding more.

“I’m not much of a performer, I guess,” I say, thinking it over. “I don’t rock out with a guitar or dance with the mic stand or anything. But—” I perk up. “Knox and I have our dueling piano battles! So, I get plenty of time up front.”

Logan doesn’t look convinced. His expression twists slightly—doubt, disappointment.

“Those piano battles,” he says. “Are they staged?”

“No. But we get that question a lot.”

“You win legitimately every time, then?”

“Noteverytime, just…” I let a grin slip through.“Mostof the time.”

Logan smiles, too—another firm tug on our tether.

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