‘Thanks.’
Cassidy checked that the King was still on the phone and gave the young footman a grateful nod as she knocked on the door.
Smoothing back her hair, she waited for Logan to tell her to enter and when she didn’t hear anything she tried the handle, suddenly nervous as the door clicked open.
Telling herself that there was nothing to be nervous about, she stepped inside, her eyes widening at the sheer opulence of the room.
It was so stately and handsome she half expected Elizabeth Bennet to come wandering out of one of the rooms at any moment.
Feeling a sense of déjà vu at having once again entered her boss’s private sanctuary unannounced, she moved further into the apartment, fervently hoping that she wasn’t going to be confronted by muscles glistening with sweat and vitality from an intense workout. Assuring herself that the same situation was as likely to happen as—
‘Oh, my God!’
Cassidy’s hand flew to her stalled heart as she came face to face with her boss in the middle of the parquetry hallway.
This time he wasn’t wearing anything as bad as gym clothes. This time it was much worse because the only thing he was wearing was a towel tied low around his lean hips, his ripped torso and corrugated-iron abs so much more delicious than her imagination could have conjured up.
‘Please, tell me that this is a bad dream,’ she groaned, a liquid heat unfurling low in her pelvis as she stared at the sleek perfection of his hard body.
In the process of rubbing his hair dry with another towel, Logan came to a complete standstill and stared at her.
‘It’s not a dream, bad or otherwise. Is that for me?’
Incapable of coherent thought, Cassidy had no idea what he was talking about.
‘The phone, Cassidy.’ Logan’s voice was dark and low. ‘Is it for me?’
The phone? The phone?
Appalled, she remembered that she had the King on the line and held it out to him as if it were a baton she needed to pass on to the next competitor in a relay. ‘Yes, yes, it’s for you.’ Her heart was racing like a runaway train as he prowled toward her. Plucking it out of her hand, he told her to wait for him before he disappeared back down the hallway.
Feeling like the survivor of a car crash, Cassidy didn’t move for a good few minutes, not wanting to do anything that might bring him back.
Then she took a deep breath, absently noticing a tray of fresh glasses and a silver jug beaded with moisture.
Suddenly parched, she poured herself an icy drink and thought about rolling the glass across her sweaty forehead to cool herself down.
Fortunately, drinking it had the desired effect and she felt her heart rate start to return to normal, only to sense Logan pad up behind her. Just her luck that his phone call would be so short.
She didn’t turn to face him, pretty sure that if he was still wearing the towel she’d resign on the spot. Because how could she possibly go on working for him and not picture him naked every time she saw him?
‘That was my brother.’
‘I know.’
‘I was in the shower when he tried my cell.’
Cassidy took a gulp of water. ‘I kind of got that.’
Logan shifted behind her. ‘Are you going to look at me or stand facing the wall for the rest of the night?’
Hearing the irritation in his voice, she slowly turned and automatically scanned his body for clothing. Fortunately he’d changed while he’d been speaking to the King, and was now dressed in a T-shirt and sweatpants as black as his mood.
‘I’m really sorry for walking in on you like that,’ she said softly. ‘Had I known—’
‘Forget it,’ he dismissed. ‘It’s becoming a habit I’m getting used to.’
‘Well, I’m not,’ she squeaked indignantly. ‘And I can assure you it will never happen again. I’m going to return your private key card as soon as we get back to New York because I’m never going into your personal space again unless you’re with me, or not there at all.’