His Fantasy Girl (Things To Do Before You Die)(3)

By: Nina Croft

And why was she even thinking about panties melting?

No man had affected her like this. Not ever.


Well, okay once. But that was a long time ago and best not thought about.

She returned her attention to his face and found him watching her, one eyebrow raised, and she realized she hadn’t answered his question. She licked her lips and wiped her palms down her sides. “I’m Abigail Parker.”

Midnight black hair. Silver eyes. The dark slash of his brows. Where had she seen him before?

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

His question dragged her from her thoughts. He sounded a little…pissed off, as though the meeting was not going as planned and he wasn’t quite sure how to proceed.

“Should I remember you? Mr.…?”

He gave a slightly rueful smile. “I guess not.” Faint amusement twinkled in his eyes, and he gave a slight shake of his head. He looked past her into the hallway. “Can I come in?”

Her reaction must have shown in her face because he gave a short laugh. “I take it that’s a no.” He rubbed a hand over his jawline, faintly shadowed with a day’s growth of beard. Something in the movement tweaked a chord in her memory, but the answer stayed just out of reach. “Shit, this is difficult.” He took a deep breath. “Okay, so the thing is…we used to know each other.”

“We did?” She was getting a really bad feeling, was in fact having to fight the urge to slam the door in his face and run and hide under the bed.

“Well, maybe ‘know’ isn’t the right word.” His lips quirked. “Unless we’re talking in the biblical sense.”

Her mouth dropped open and her eyes stretched wide. “What? No way. I think I would have remembered.” But that bad feeling was getting bigger, swelling, and any second now she was guessing it was going to burst all over her.

“It was a long time ago,” he said.

No. Freaking. Way.

She wanted to squeeze her eyes tightly shut and put her hands over her ears. Because she knew what was coming next and she didn’t want to hear it. And she was suddenly quite aware of why he looked so familiar. Finally, she managed to croak out a question. “How long?”

“Eleven years.” He studied her, his head cocked to one side. “I’m guessing it’s coming back.”

She stared at him—well, at his chest, where his T-shirt strained tight over the swell of muscles. Why? Why was he here after so long? What could he possibly want? Whatever it was, she couldn’t deal with it right now.

“Logan McCabe.” The name came out as a whisper.

She’d had sex with this man. And multiple orgasms. She was tied to him by tethers he knew nothing about. Did he?

It was weird that she’d been thinking about him lately, but in abstract; she’d never expected him to turn up on her doorstep.

She had to get rid of him.

Right now. Before disaster struck.

“Look, I’m sorry, but I have no clue what you want after all this time.”

He gave a casual shrug. “Just to talk.”

“What can we possibly have to talk about?” Actually a whole load of stuff, but she needed preparation for that, a clear head, advice from a lawyer, and maybe a couple of hundred years to think about it. “I can’t. I really can’t. I have to leave for work. Right now.”

When he just stood there, staring down at her, she gritted her teeth and resisted the urge to push him off the doorstep.

His eyes narrowed. Then he pulled a card from his back pocket and handed it to her. She took it automatically, her eyes straying to the road, expecting to see the car pull up any moment.

“Call me,” he said. “Or come by the club. When this has sunk in, I would like to…talk to you.”

When she didn’t answer, his nostrils flared and something flashed in his eyes. “You remember the club? The place where you picked me up and fucked my brains out.”

He turned and strolled away, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Ouch.” The tension oozed out of her, and she leaned against the doorway, closed her eyes, and released a ragged breath.

When she opened them, he was gone.

By the following afternoon, Logan still hadn’t gotten over his feeling of… What? Maybe that was the problem. He had no clue how he felt. The meeting certainly hadn’t gone as he’d imagined, but then again, what had he expected? He realized, obviously too late, that he hadn’t given any thought to his fantasy girl’s feelings in all this. Hey, she was his fantasy girl. She was supposed to act in an appropriate fantasy-like manner.

Also By Nina Croft

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