Page 53 of Logan
“See, there’s room for everyone. And it’s even more fun like this, isn’t it?” Valentina cheers and winks at me. Wolfson laughs.
Sloane is so stiff on the edge of my knees that she looks almost rigid. I peek at Valentina who’s cuddling with her husband and currently seems to be nibbling his ear. They touch constantly. The other couples are in a similar state.
There’s no way he won’t notice the fakeness the second he looks our way for more than half a second.
“Lean on me,” I whisper in Sloane’s ear, holding my breath and wrapping my arms around her, pulling her to me until she’s resting against me. Her muscles tense. “I’m sorry. It has to look convincing.”
She nods, a subtle movement letting me know she understands. She relaxes, allowing herself to sink into my embrace. I’m afraid to breathe, to move, to touch her.
The rose scent of her hair hits my nose, her soft body on mine, her ass rubbing against my cock when she moves, her bare thighs drawing my eyes like a magnet.
Focus, Logan. You’re here to work.
They chatter about clothes, music, and the latest gossip about the royal family. Their conversation goes over my headas I only try to pay attention if they switch to a topic that’s relevant to me.
How am I supposed to convince Wolfson to sell me his cameras in a conversation about clothes?
Fuck.
But unlike me, Sloane thrives. She joins in the conversation, gesturing with her hands, and the group at the table seems to listen to her with interest. Maybe that will be enough? Maybe she’ll win Valentina over. I don’t understand what any of this has to do with our deal, but Cora insisted this is the way.
“Ooh, what a great song! You coming to dance?” The woman sitting beside me jumps up.
“Yes. Let’s dance.” Valentina leaps to her feet as well.
“I don’t dance,” I say, refusing to join them.
Valentina’s face falls, and she sits back down.
“You can go dance without me. I don’t mind,” I hurry to say when I read Wolfson’s expression. He clearly doesn’t like seeing his wife disappointed, and I can’t be the one responsible for that.
“Yeah?” She turns to Sloane again. “Do you want to dance?”
Sloane nods, and in a second, the girls disappear from the table and move to the dance floor. Sloane sinuously twists her body to the beat of the music.
The air thickens, and the music seems to slow as I watch her, her fingers painting invisible lines above her and the colorful lights dyeing her skin. She moves in an almost hypnotic rhythm as if the music flows directly into her veins. The sight is almost erotic.
“You’re captivated too.”
“What?” I shake myself out of the trance I was in and turn to Wolfson, who’s watching me with interest.
“You’ve fallen hard, too,” he says, nodding toward the dance floor, alluding to Sloane and Valentina.
“No—”
“It’s okay. I know how it feels. The realization that you care more about her than yourself. It took me time to understand it. I resisted that feeling, just like you at first. But I like my life better now. She gives me flavor. Purpose.”
I try not to roll my eyes and, instead, stretch my lips into an understanding smile.
I find purpose in my work. Not in a woman.
“At our previous meeting, I thought you were aloof and unfeeling. I’m glad to find I was wrong. It was a good idea to move the meeting here. Valentina was right.” He raises his glass to me.
Fuck. Is he saying what I think he’s saying?
“Cheers.” He downs his drink, and I take the opportunity while he’s not looking to pour mine into the small potted plant in the center of the table. I don’t drink during work meetings, and I don’t get drunk in public. Too risky.
The women return flushed from dancing. Sloane’s skin glistens with a thin layer of sweat, and she looks almost radiant. Stunning.
