Page 56 of His Fantasy Girl

“She brought him home?” She’d better not be sleeping with this guy.

“I’ve met him before—they’ve been friends forever. But this was different. They went out for dinner, like a proper date.”

Ha. So much for not going on dates. What else had she lied about?

The food came and they were silent while the waiter placed their pizzas in front of them. Jenny’s was vegetarian as well. Was she trying to impress him? He wasn’t hungry, and he was fighting an almost irresistible urge to grill his own daughter for details of her mother’s love life. He was a goddamned mess.

“He’s not as nice as you though,” Jenny said eventually. Perhaps she realized she was being less than diplomatic. “And he doesn’t have a motorcycle or a dog.” She took another mouthful. “Or any tattoos.”

At least his daughter liked him. Or she liked his bike and his dog and his tattoos.

After lunch he dropped Jenny off at the house Rachel was now sharing with Abby’s father. It was in Chelsea—a much more affluent part of town than the one Abby lived in—a townhouse, four stories high, and probably worth millions. She’d said her father was a lawyer; he obviously came from money.

“Do you want to come in and meet my grandfather?” Jenny asked as he walked her to the front door.

“Another time,” he said, and she leaned up on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.

“I think Mum likes you better than Jack,” she said as the door opened and Rachel appeared.

Driving away, he tried to shift his black mood. He should be happy for Abby. Hell, his coming into her life probably gave her more time to see other men. She’d said it had been hard juggling her daughter and her career. Well, whoop-de-fucking-doo. She could go fuck some other man while he was babysitting their daughter. Good to know he had some uses even if he wasn’t good enough to be her boyfriend.

Was that what she was doing now? Something dark built up inside him at the thought, and his hands tightened on the steering wheel.

Okay. Take a step back.

He was losing it. Again. Since when had he wanted to be anyone’s boyfriend? It was entirely up to her who she fucked. Besides, she was at work right now so she couldn’t be out with this new guy. Except they worked together. So who knew what they got up to when no one was looking. On fucking taxpayers’ time. Hardly ethical. Maybe he should report them to someone.

With that thought, he pulled over to the side of the road and switched off the engine. Running a hand through his hair, he came to the conclusion that he wasn’t, in fact, losing it. He had lost it, totally and completely. She was driving him insane. Miss Prim and Proper had him tied up in knots.

He cast his mind back to that night in the lifeboat, when he’d made that vow to go find his fantasy girl. What had he expected? Probably that he’d see her and she’d be nothing like the girl he’d dreamed about, and he could put her behind him…and do what? Go on with his life. Find someone he wanted for more than a few weeks. Because he was quite aware that he’d used his fantasy girl as an excuse to never get close to the real women he dated. They would never measure up to the girl of his dreams.

Everything inside him tensed up at the idea. Abby was right—he didn’t want anything permanent; the idea terrified him. But it didn’t matter anyway—things hadn’t worked out like that. Abby was nothing like the girl he remembered, the girl he’d dreamed about. She was something different, the last type he would expect to go for, yet he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

The truth was, they’d both grown up; his fantasy girl had become his fantasy woman, and he didn’t want to let her go. But at the same time, he couldn’t make himself make that commitment. Not that it mattered because she didn’t want him in her life anyway. Not any more than was necessary under the circumstances. He wasn’t good enough.

Shit. He couldn’t believe that was getting to him. He was rich and successful. He knew a whole load of women who would jump at the chance of sleeping with him. Why did he want the one he couldn’t have? Or was it as simple as that? He was going all Neanderthal; he was in this for the chase, and if he did catch her, then what?

She was the mother of his daughter, that was all. There was an unbreakable bond between them. They needed to find a way to coexist.

He’d stayed away from her as he’d promised. But maybe he should go see her, congratulate her on her new relationship, show he had no hard feelings. He gritted his teeth. Just a fucking hard dick.

He could tell her he hoped this new, suitable relationship helped with her career.

Him, bitter and fucking twisted?

Hell, yeah.

As she came out of the door, Abby stopped short. Logan was leaning against the wall outside, arms folded across his chest. He was dressed quite conservatively in black pants and a black shirt, the sleeves rolled up, probably for his lunch with Jenny. But his hair was loose around his shoulders, giving him an uncivilized appearance, further enhanced by the cold, hard expression on his face.

She so didn’t need this right now. She’d had a long week, and she wanted to go home and lie in a hot, bubbly bath then go to bed.

Who was she kidding?

She wanted to make love with Logan with a desperation that made it clear she was doing the right thing in keeping her distance. Being apart from him hurt. Seeing him now and not being able to touch him was a physical pain.

Should she ignore him? Walk the other way? But there was a dangerous glint in his eye that warned her not to push him.

What was his problem?

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