Silence still reigned beside him. He glanced to his right. “Being mad isn’t going to help.”
“I’m not mad. I’m furious.”
“At?”
“Your grandmother, to start. My manager, to finish.”
“You heard the staff. Emma assured them you’d taken a tour of the house and she’d promised you a ride home, which I’m providing… just as she’d planned,” he muttered under his breath.
What he didn’t need right now was a meddling grandmother with her own agenda. Not when this woman trusted so little as it was. He wanted her to take him in, into her confidence… into her bed.
Man, was he in trouble.
“So, this detour wasn’t on the agenda?” she asked.
“There was no agenda, at least not on my part.” And no more games, either. As much as he wanted more time with her, she obviously preferred to go home. Alone. Only a dick would force his attentions on an unwilling woman.
He gripped the steering wheel between his fists as he fought increasingly deep puddles of rain on the otherwise slick roads, then slowed the car down even more. “Which way?” he asked.
“You ought to know.”
He eased the vehicle over to the shoulder and draped one arm over the wheel. “I’m taking you home, Cat.”
Quiet enveloped them once more.
She met his gaze, surprise etched in her features. “Why?”
“You’re obviously not here willingly. I thought you’d relax, but I was wrong. I wouldn’t want to force you to spend any more time in my company than is absolutely necessary.”
She eyed him warily, disbelief emanating from her in waves. “Are you always such a gentleman, or is this an act for my benefit?”
He shrugged. “Are you always such a cynic about people’s motives?”
“Answering a question with a question,” she said. “A cop or a lawyer?”
“Lawyer, and we’re sharks by reputation, so don’t go getting any soft ideas about me.” He’d never been a lapdog for any woman before, and though he’d probably roll over and beg for her, he wasn’t about to admit that aloud. Just the thought had him squirming in his seat.
She laughed. “There are a lot of words I’d use to describe you, Logan Montgomery, and soft isn’t one of them.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” he muttered. With every inhale of her subtle scent, his pants grew tighter.
A fierce blush stained her cheeks. He liked the feminine side that showed her vulnerability. Damn. He had to get the hell out of here. “Like I said earlier, I’m interested, not desperate.”
The low murmur of voices in the background reminded him the radio was on and he raised the volume a couple of notches. Just in time, he caught the weather report warning of flash floods and dangerous wind and lightning, especially near the ocean.
He lowered the radio. “Directions?” he prodded, wanting to get her home safely.
The crisp ping of rain hitting the windshield sounded around them, proof that, for once, the weatherman was on target. If they didn’t get going soon, the driving would be even more treacherous than it already was. Even if he got her home, wherever home was, he wouldn’t make it back again.
He glanced at her wary expression and doubted she would offer her hospitality. Not that he blamed her. After his grandmother’s shenanigans, Catherine probably wouldn’t even lend the use of her floor as a makeshift bed. He’d be forced to take a motel room he preferred not to waste his money on.
Living off his salary as a public defender hadn’t been a problem until he’d decided to buy and renovate his new home—make that his old home that needed extensive work. The solitude and view of the ocean made living on a shoestring budget worthwhile. No way he’d sacrifice his independence by living off the trust set up for him as a child.
He glanced at his passenger. “I’d like to get you home dry and in one piece, Cat.”
She sighed, but the beginnings of an unexpected smile fought its way to her lips. “What’s so amusing?” he asked.
“You make it extremely hard to dislike you.”
He reached out and stroked his hand down her soft cheek. “That wasn’t my point… but I can’t say I’m disappointed.”
* * *
Catherine curled her knees onto the seat as she studied the man beside her. She’d thought him charming, but that was an understatement. Appealing might be a better word. He knew how to turn a situation to his advantage without making her feel as if she’d been manipulated. Just when she’d gathered her defenses against his polished charm and good looks, he struck with deadly accuracy. He acted out of respect for her well-being and concern for her wishes. She still wasn’t sure she could trust him. Worse, she wasn’t sure she could trust herself.
He eased the car back onto the wet road. “So, where do you live, anyway?” he asked.
“Downtown Boston.”
He groaned. “That’s nearly an hour from here.”
“That’s why I’d planned on staying at my sister’s tonight.”
The car ahead of them made a sudden stop and he swerved to avoid hitting the vehicle. The Jeep hydroplaned across the slick roads, nearly sending them into a skid. She gripped the dashboard with both hands. He swore under his breath, then maneuvered them back with more skill than she would have possessed. “You okay?” he asked.
“Fine.” She let out a shaky breath. No way they’d make it as far as her sister’s house—a good half hour from here, Catherine thought. Not in this weather.
She bit the inside of her cheek. Why was fate conspiring to keep her with a man who was so obviously wrong for her? Though he’d breached her reserve, she had lived long enough to understand there were still social classes that couldn’t be crossed into.
“My place is ten minutes from here. How far is your sister’s?” Logan asked.
“Too far,” she muttered.
He raised an eyebrow while keeping his gaze on the road. “My place it is.”
Catherine remained silent. There wasn’t much to say. She’d take a look at his expensive house and valuable accessories and know for certain they had nothing
