She began her search of Logan Whittaker and came upon a wealth of information, including several photos and numerous accolades. He graduated from the University of Texas law school, set up practice twelve years ago in Dallas, then moved to Cheyenne six years ago. He was also listed as single, not that it mattered to Hannah. Much.
Then it suddenly dawned on her to check out J. D. Lassiter, which she did. She came upon an article heralding his business acumen and his immeasurable wealth. The mogul was worth billions. And once again, she was subjected to shock when she recognized the face in the picture accompanying his story—the face that belonged to the same man who had been to her house over twenty years ago.
That particular day, she’d returned home from school and come upon him and her mother standing on the porch, engaged in a heated argument. She’d been too young to understand the content of the volatile conversation, and when she’d asked her mom about him, Ruth had only said he wasn’t anyone she should worry about. But she had worried...and now she wondered....
Hannah experienced a surprising bout of excitement mixed with regret. Even if she had solid proof J. D. Lassiter was in fact her father, she would never have the opportunity to meet him. It was as if someone had given her a special gift, then immediately yanked it away from her. It didn’t matter. The man had clearly possessed more money than most, and he hadn’t spent a dime to support her. That begged the question—why would he leave her a portion of his estate now? Perhaps a guilty conscience. An attempt at atonement. But it was much too late for that.
She would meet Logan Whittaker for dinner, hear him out and then promptly tell him that she wouldn’t take one penny of the Lassiter fortune.
* * *
At fifteen minutes until eight, Logan began to believe Hannah Armstrong’s plans had changed. But from his position at the corner table, he glanced up from checking his watch to see her standing in the restaurant’s doorway.
He had to admit, he’d found her pretty damned attractive when he’d met her, from the top of her auburn ponytail to the bottom of her bare feet. She’d possessed a fresh-faced beauty that she hadn’t concealed with a mask of makeup, and she had the greenest eyes he’d ever seen in his thirty-eight years.
But now...
She did have on a little makeup, yet it only enhanced her features. Her hair hung straight to her shoulders and she wore a sleeveless, above-the-knee black dress that molded to her curves. Man-slaying curves that reminded Logan of a modern version of those starlets from days gone by, before too-thin became all the rage.
When they made eye contact, Hannah started forward, giving Logan a good glimpse of her long legs. He considered her to be above average in height for a woman, but right then she seemed pretty damn tall. Maybe it was just the high heels, although they couldn’t be more than two inches. Maybe it was the air of confidence she gave off as she crossed the room. Or maybe he should keep his eyes off her finer attributes; otherwise he could land himself in big trouble if he ignored the boundary between business and pleasure. Not that he had any reason to believe she’d be willing to take that step.
Logan came to his feet and rounded the table to pull out the chair across from his as soon as Hannah arrived. “Thanks,” she said after she claimed her seat.
Once he settled in, Logan handed her a menu. “I thought for a minute there you were going to stand me up.”
“My apologies for my tardiness,” she said. “My daughter, Cassie, had to change clothes three times before I took her to my friend’s house for a sleepover.”
He smiled over the sudden bittersweet memories. “How old is she?”
“Gina is thirty. Same as me.”
Logan bit back a laugh. “I meant your daughter.”
A slight blush spread across Hannah’s cheeks, making her look even prettier. “Of course you did. I admit I’m a little nervous about this whole inheritance thing.”
So was Logan, for entirely different reasons. Every time she flashed those green eyes at him, he felt his pulse accelerate. “No need to be nervous. But I wouldn’t blame you if you’re curious.”
“Not so curious that I can’t wait for the details until after dinner, since I’m starving.” She opened the menu and began scanning it while Logan did the same. “I’d forgotten how many choices they offer.”
He’d almost forgotten how it felt to be seated at a dinner table across from a gorgeous woman. The past few years had included a few casual flings for the sake of convenience with a couple of women who didn’t care to be wined and dined. Sex for the sake of sex. And that had suited him fine. “Yeah. It’s hard to make a decision. By the way, did you get your plumbing fixed?”
She continued to scan the menu. “Unfortunately, no. They called and said it would be tomorrow afternoon. Apparently pipes are breaking all over Boulder.”
With the way she looked tonight, she could break hearts all over Boulder. “Do you have any recommendations on the menu?”
“Have you had bison?” she asked as she looked up from the menu.
“No. I’m more of a beef-and-potatoes kind of guy.”
“Your Texas roots are showing.”
She’d apparently taken his advice. “Did you check me out on the internet?”
“I did. Does that bother you?”
Only if she’d discovered the part of his past he’d concealed from everyone in Wyoming. Almost everyone. “Hey, I don’t blame you. In this day and time, it’s advisable to determine if someone is legitimate before you agree to meet with them.”
“I’m glad you understand, and you have quite the résumé.”
He shrugged. “Just the usual credentials.”
“They certainly impressed me.”
She undeniably impressed him. “Have you eaten bison before?”
“Yes, I have, and I highly recommend it. Much leaner and healthier than beef.”
“I think I’ll just stick with what I know.”
Her smile almost knocked his boots off. “Perhaps you should expand your horizons.”
Perhaps he should quit sending covert looks at her cleavage. “Maybe I will at some point in time.” Just not tonight.
A lanky college-aged waiter sauntered over to the table and aimed his smile on Hannah. “Hi. My name’s Chuck. Can I get you folks something to drink? Maybe a cocktail before dinner?”
Bourbon, straight up, immediately came to Logan’s mind before he realized booze and a beautiful woman wouldn’t be a good mix in this case. “I’ll have coffee. Black.”
Hannah leveled her pretty smile on Chuck. “I’d like a glass of water.”
The waiter responded with an adolescent grin. “Have you folks decided on your meal?”
She took another glance at the menu before closing it. “I’ll take the petite bison filet, medium, with a side of sautéed
