“I’ll remember that.” An intriguing gleam lit her green eyes. She rested her chin on her hands. “It’s nice you have Emma to look out for you.”
“You’re right.” He placed the casserole inside the microwave, his only concession to new appliances when he’d moved in.
“So, with hours like that, tell me why you’d choose the public defender’s office.”
“As opposed to some high-powered law firm in Boston?” he asked, the edge in his voice unmistakable. “One that helps institutions, not people? One the judge handpicked based on reputation?” His father would have pulled whatever strings possible to settle Logan into a position of power and prestige, regardless of what Logan wanted out of his life and career. As a result, Logan couldn’t hide the disgust he felt for the direction the judge wanted his son’s career to take.
At his biting tone, she stiffened in her chair. “I meant as opposed to single practice, or in-house counsel. Or maybe setting up a stand on the street and giving advice out for a quarter. Clearly I hit a nerve.”
“In a word, yes.” He cursed his inability to cover his frustration with his father and hated that he’d taken it out on her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take my issues with my father out on you.”
Her expression softened. “I didn’t mean to tread on sensitive ground. Or to insult you. I’m just surprised at the road you’ve taken.”
“Tell me something. What’s the real reason my career choice surprises you? Is it because you can’t picture me helping the downtrodden or because anyone with the name Montgomery should be a self-serving snob?” He joined her at the wooden table.
Reaching his hand across the Formica top, he opened his fist palm-upward in a silent signal for her to place her hand in his. “I wouldn’t judge you based on appearances,” he said.
“And you’d appreciate it if I did the same for you.” A whisper of a smile touched her lips. “I think you caught me revealing my bias against the upper class.”
“Instead of judging me based on what you know about me.”
She glanced at his hand extended in invitation. “But I hardly know you.”
“Oh, I think you do.” He kept his palm faceup and never let his gaze stray from hers. “Trust me.”
She hesitated. To Logan, those seconds felt like an eternity, until finally, she joined her hand with his.
Soft and smooth, her skin felt like silk to his touch. Enjoying the feel of her, he brushed his thumb over the pulse point in her wrist. She merely stared, her eyes glittering like emeralds as she waited for his next move.
“So, tell me about yourself.”
She blinked, obviously startled by his question.
But Logan had his reasons. He didn’t plan on wasting one minute of the time he had her to himself. “Why don’t you start with your family?” he asked when she didn’t answer right away.
She shrugged. “Not much to tell. Like you, I have a sister. We share the running of the business, but right now, she’s pregnant and on bed rest. She’s married to an arrogant cop.” Her grin was at odds with her choice of words. Obviously, she didn’t dislike the man as much as she proclaimed.
“Anyone else?”
She shook her head. “My mom died years ago, and Dad walked out when we were young. I don’t even remember him. And then I had an aunt and uncle but they…” Catherine paused, and Logan sensed she was debating revealing her family history. “They died last year.”
He didn’t blame her for keeping quiet. Emma’s revelations about her uncle probably weren’t something Catherine considered first-date conversation. He wasn’t bothered. She’d have plenty of time to learn to trust and confide in him.
“That’s a lot of loss,” he said.
She shrugged. “It’s life.”
He wondered how much of that cavalier attitude had been shaped by necessity, how much by being so alone. “Is your sister older or younger?”
“Kayla’s younger by only ten months but she’s the more centered sister.”
He narrowed his eyes. Logan didn’t like the hint of self-criticism in her words. “Something tells me you’re not giving yourself enough credit.”
She cocked her head to the side. “I think I know myself better than you.”
He glanced down at the hand he still held in his. He turned her hand palm upward and traced the fine lines in her skin. A subtle tremor shot through her and her body visibly shook in reaction.
He smiled, pleased. “Maybe so. But I’d like to know you as well as you know yourself. And I just watched you cater an entire party under stressful conditions—successfully, I might add. So, putting yourself second to your sister doesn’t cut it for me.”
“There’s a difference between putting yourself second and knowing your strengths and weaknesses. The only way to be successful in life is to know yourself. Inside and out.”
“You impress me, Ms. Luck.”
She grinned. “Thank you, Mr. Montgomery.”
“It’s Logan, remember?”
Catherine remembered. Every minute inside that closet was etched in her memory. She licked her dry lips, and his gaze followed the unconscious movement.
“Now, care to tell me why a party that had the guests raving had you so uptight?”
* * *
Catherine’s emotions warred inside her. Pleasure that Logan approved of her job performance fought with wariness of his motives for complimenting her. Alone in his house, seduction couldn’t be far from his mind. Heaven knows it wasn’t far from hers.
He held her hand in a gentle yet strong and self-assured grip. That light touch alone sent her senses soaring. “I cater parties for a living. This one wasn’t any more stressful than most.”
As a master of the flippant comeback, Catherine found herself at a sudden loss. She’d never been so flustered before, which said much about her growing feelings for Logan. She didn’t
