“Sounds like a well thought out plan, Candace Riley.” Logan’s voice came out all velvet and smoke. His fingertips played up and down the stem of his wineglass. Slow. Almost caressing. Definitely not with the intention of causing her mind to wander to how those fingers might feel against her skin.
She swallowed hard. Was he aware he reeked of sex appeal? She’d never in her twenty-eight plus years met a man so…yummy.
It must be the wine. Couldn’t someone just shoot her and put her out of her misery? She was seriously screwed up. “Your turn.” She dragged her eyes from his fingers, hoping her attraction wasn’t written all over her face.
He shrugged. “What would you like to know?” Picking up the glass, he took a small sip and eyed her over the rim.
“I’m curious about you and Eric. Besides Tony, which was a long time ago,” she hastened to add, “he’s never introduced me to anyone he was dating.”
Dating?
Logan sucked in a sharp breath, inhaling some wine in the process. It practically came out his nose as his lungs struggled to recover and his mind reeled.
“Are you all right?” Candace asked, her eyes wide with alarm, her hand poised mid-air.
“Wine down…wrong pipe,” he wheezed. He hadn’t misconstrued her inference this morning. She thought he and Eric were lovers. Which meant Eric had fed her a line of bull. “What did Eric tell you?” he asked hoarsely.
Her lips twisted in a wry grin, and she lowered her hand to her lap. “Not much. Only that he considers you a quote-unquote special friend.”
“I see.” Logan studied Candace through hooded lids. She looked deadly serious. He was going to kill Eric.
