Evie never had a plan once he laid siege to her, but that would have to change.
Just as soon as this gentle whisper of a kiss finished.
‘You talk a good game, Evie,’ he murmured, and eased away slowly. ‘I’m tempted to give you that week.’
‘This coming week is the one on offer,’ she said with a gentle smile as she sat back and browsed the blackboard menu. ‘Let me know what you decide. I think I’ll have the salmon, spinach leaves and pear salad. You?’
‘Rib eye.’
‘They do a nice one here.’ Small talk to settle her nerves. And then the waiter came for their order and a side of bread arrived shortly after that and Evie nibbled on it and her stomach settled further. The civic centre bid had been submitted, she told him. Max was doing the follow-up courting. Three bread-and-butter projects were out of the ground and well under way. Plans for a luxury harbour-side residence were on the drawing board. Business as usual. Enjoyable as always, that mix of creativity and calculation. There was an eco house up in the Blue Mountains that she wanted to see. Canton tower in Guangzhou, China. Hell, why not a world tour of giant Ferris wheels and fabulous hotels?
‘That what you want to do this coming week?’ he asked quietly. ‘Because we could.’
‘Maybe you could,’ she said after a moment’s startled silence. ‘The rest of us get to save for years, finesse the dream and carry the sweet scent of achievement around with us when finally such a trip comes to pass. But if it’s filling this coming week that you’re interested in, I still have to work seven till three, Monday to Friday. Wednesday afternoon I might be able to clear. How do you feel about roller coasters and fairy floss?’
‘That’s your idea of a dream date?’
‘You don’t like roller coasters and fairy floss?’
Logan shrugged. ‘It’s been a while.’
For her too. Maybe it wasn’t such a good combination. ‘Does Max know you’re having dinner with me?’
‘Not unless you told him.’
‘I didn’t.’ Which led to the next question that needed asking. ‘This week you’re currently considering sharing with me—do you care if people know about it?’
‘Do you?’
‘No. But then, I’m not the businessman wheeler and dealer with control issues.’
‘I wouldn’t call them issues, exactly.’
Maybe her multimillionaire wasn’t so self aware after all. ‘Would you want to stay at my apartment?’
‘I’m staying in a serviced apartment at the Quay,’ he replied. ‘You could come there.’
‘Yes, but it’s not your home, is it? Last time we did this I was living in a student dorm and you were living out of a hotel penthouse. We spent most of our time in that penthouse naked. Beyond our sexual compatibility I had no real sense of you as a person. And you had none of me. I wonder if that was a mistake.’
‘Do you really want me in your home?’ he asked.
‘Yes. My bed. My kitchen in the mornings. My life. For a week.’
‘What if we’re not compatible?’
‘Then there’s nothing to worry about.’ Evie sat back and regarded him solemnly. ‘The question you should be worrying about is what if we are?’
Logan ended up at her place for coffee. No word from him yet on what he would do this coming week. No more words from Evie either, regarding their relationship. Instead she invited him in and stood back and watched him as he entered her apartment. Nothing special by his standards, but more than adequate by hers. She wondered if Logan would recognise his brother’s touch when it came to the design, but if he did he didn’t say anything. Max had made his early reputation by converting row upon row of inner-city warehouses into spacious three-storey apartments and this was one of them. It was how they’d met. She’d asked Max for some structural changes and he’d heard her out grudgingly. About halfway into the collaboration Max’s reluctance had turned to enthusiasm.
‘There’s three floors,’ she said. ‘Kitchen, living area and utilities are on the ground floor, office and spare room on the first floor and my bedroom and living quarters are up the top.’
‘You have a three-storey fire pole,’ he said.
‘Did I mention I like rides?’
Logan just looked at her.
‘I have stairs too.’ Gorgeous, floating stairs she’d designed herself—one of the modifications she’d asked of Max. She’d started out with grand plans for a minimalist lifestyle, but that was half a dozen years ago now and homely clutter had moved in. Not a showpiece, this apartment, but a home. Comfortable sofas in mismatched colours. Mismatched cushions too. Lots of colour to balance the unpainted concrete walls and exposed girders. Logan was looking up at those rooftop girders now.
‘What are you looking for?’ she asked.
‘Trapeze.’
‘Huh.’ She’d never considered a trapeze before, though she had considered bungee apparatus. ‘You think I’d need a net?’
‘That or a last will and testament. You know, I never once figured you for a thrill seeker.’
‘Really? You don’t think me sliding so willingly up and down the pleasure-pain endorphins might have clued you in?’
Logan shrugged. ‘Not sure I was thinking at all when I was with you before, Evangeline.’
‘And now?’
‘Well, I can still remember my name,’ he said. ‘That’s got to be a good sign. Have you given any thought to what might happen after our week is up?’
‘Logan, I’m not sure we’re even going to get through today. There’s still three hours of it left, and forgive me for saying so but you don’t seem to want to be here.’ Evie was nervous. Logan looked nervous. Hardly an ideal combination.
‘It’s just … this is your home.’
‘Yes.’ She eyed Logan speculatively. ‘Logan, have you ever been in a woman’s home before? Apart from your mother’s?’
‘I have aunts as well,’ he murmured.
‘You know what I mean.’ She meant had he ever been to the home of a woman he’d bedded, or intended to bed.
‘No.’
‘Nervous?’ She turned to a high kitchen shelf and pulled down a bottle of half-empty Scotch. Good Scotch. Glasses came next and then she unscrewed the lid and poured generously.
‘You really think that’s the solution?’
‘I’m willing to give it a whirl,’ she murmured
