“I don’t want to see him right now.” Funny how I’m rushing back to Logan, the Beast who locked me up, but I can’t stand the sight of the man who gave me a diamond ring.
My intuition is telling me something. I’ve numbed myself to it for years, but now it’s waking from slumber.
Maybe that’s why I’m so eager to head back to Logan. Somehow, somewhere in that castle I’ll find my truth. It’s been buried far too long.
Rachel holds my eyes for a long moment before she presses her lips together and nods. “Okay. Leave Adam to me. I’ll hold him off.”
“Thank you.” I rush to hug her.
She squeezes me, then pulls back to look in my eyes. “Don’t thank me. Just...take care of yourself, okay?”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. Then, before I lose my nerve, I wheel my suitcase out the door. The cab is waiting to take me back to the castle.
Back into the arms of the Beast.
Because while he’s the Beast, he’s also...Logan. Sometimes the two barely fit together in my head and other times, I think, of course it was Logan all along. Of course only Logan could have ever made me feel so safe while I explored such wild things.
Only Logan would I have trusted to catch me when I leapt into the unknown. Only Logan could have known me better than I knew myself and how to draw me out.
Only Logan...always Logan.
Seven
8 Years Ago
Logan
I storm into the lab, that bastard Adam’s voice ringing in my ears as he bragged about banging yet another college co-ed who was ‘barely legal.’ What a fucking bastard. I can’t believe I ever considered that guy a friend.
When we both started working for Dr. Laurel, Adam showed me the same face he shows the rest of the world, polished golden boy, perfect in every way.
Until he realized I’m a nobody from nowhere. Then he didn’t see the point and started shirking his work off onto me, not showing up, but still expecting to take equal credit for what’s essentially become my work. Not that Dr. Laurel will hear a word against Adam, not the perfect Adam Archer. All he says is that we need to learn to get along if I want to keep my spot in the internship.
Fucking infuriating.
The door slams behind me and I hear a small yelp from the corner. I look up and freeze.
Because she’s there.
Dr. Laurel’s daughter. Soon to become a doctor herself, she’s so close to getting her Ph.D. even though she’s just a few months past eighteen.
She looks up at me, her eyes even larger and more luminous through her round bottle-glass lenses, which she immediately pulls off. But then she squints and puts them back on, running a hand through her hair and shyly saying, “Hi Logan.”
“Oh. Hi.” I cross the room over to the small study carrel at the edge of the lab where she has four huge textbooks open and a notebook with tiny scribbled notes covering the page.
As she looks up at me, her chest heaves up and down like breathing is suddenly becoming an issue for her.
And I’m immediately transported back to the ball a month ago. Walking up to her in that luminous toga that hugged all of her womanly curves, and watching the way she flushed so prettily when I spoke to her.
Not that it stopped her from gathering the courage to ask me to dance.
I don’t dance. Not even for you, I told her.
I meant to say more, to invite her to go for a walk, maybe out to one of the balconies where we could hear ourselves think beyond the unnerving roaring chatter of the ballroom.
But no.
Adam fucking Archer swept in and grabbed her, smirking at me as he led her onto the dance floor in my place.
He doesn’t care about Daphne. He barely speaks to her. But she was beautiful, the center of attention, and he could tell in that moment I wanted her.
But he’s not here right now. It’s just me and her.
And unlike him, even in her oversized sweater, tortoise shell glasses and her hair in a haphazard bun, I can see that she’s just as beautiful now as she was the night of the ball.
Her face has thinned out as she’s transformed from girl to woman while the rest of her body has softened. The tight leggings she’s wearing show off her curves as she curls up in her chair, one knee to her chest.
“What are you studying?”
“Ugh.” She makes a face. “Stem cell research applied to Myelodysplastic syndrome. I mean, it’s really fascinating. And it could have implications towards Dad’s research trying to help Mom. They harvested stem cells from my cord blood when I was born, knowing it might help Mom—”
I close the books and her notebook. “When was the last time you ate?”
It seems to me her whole life, her Dad has considered his wife’s needs before his daughter’s. Maybe it’s not my place. I don’t know what I would do if my spouse was sick, but he barely spends any time with Daphne, when she kills herself to please him studying, getting early degrees so she can join him in the lab, and spending all her free time nursing her sick mom.
She looks distracted, her eyes going back to her books guiltily like she feels like she ought to be studying—as if even the thought of taking a break seems selfish.
Which makes me grab the back of her chair and pull it out from the carrel. “No more excuses. We’re going out for a bite.”
Her bright green eyes flash up at me. “We are?”
I give a firm nod. “We are.”
A small smile lights her face. “Okay.”
Good girl, I think but don’t say. The thought immediately discomfits me, though. Especially when her instant obedience has my jeans tightening. I stand back and frown as she grabs her jacket. Shit, I can’t be thinking that way about her. And not just because she’s the boss’s daughter.
Admiring her beauty is one thing, but she’s still way too young. Too naïve for the shit I’m into, especially lately.
You don’t tie nice girls like her up and spank them.
My balls tighten at the image that flashes through my head but I’m not a jackass, so I force it away.
She barely has any friends. That’s all I’m being.
She grabs her purse and then we’re walking together towards the elevator. The silence feels heavy as we ride up to the first floor. She glances my way and her cheeks turn rosy. What’s she thinking about? Is she hoping I’ll grab hold of her and kiss her like they’re always doing on those soapy doctor dramas on TV?
The thought makes me smirk and she immediately looks away, her cheeks going even pinker. So, so innocent. Which makes something in my chest hurt because it’s a rarity.
The ping of the elevator arriving at the first floor startles both of us. She laughs self-consciously and then hurries off.
We settle in at a sandwich shop across the street from the lab. “How’s your mom doing?” I ask after we’ve ordered and sat down.
“She’s doing okay.” Daphne nods enthusiastically. “I’m really hopeful about the new rounds of treatment you, Dad, and Adam have been working on. I spent the morning with her and she was sitting up and we did the crossword. Well, we managed half of it before she got too tired, but I feel like it’s progress.” She bites her lip but keeps nodding, like she’s trying to convince herself more than me.