didn’t turn to check on Tanya. She was rooted to the spot, trying to figure out how to get her foot to either come back up her throat or go down smoothly. Her size nine, chunky-heeled, purple boot that she thought had looked so cute this morning was going nowhere. It was firmly lodged in her throat as a weird, choked sound eked out past it.
Before she could come up with words to try to cover her mortification, Jack grinned and gracefully let her off the hook.
“Jennie, Sam, have you met Logan Stone?”
Sigh. Had she met Logan Stone? No. She hadn’t met him. She’d seen him, though. And drooled over him from across the room at her friend’s wedding three months ago. And she’d dreamed about him.
She’d lusted after his dark eyes and the five o’clock shadow that graced a chiseled jaw and outlined a mouth she wanted to bite. Hair so dark it was almost black. Thick hair she wanted to pull as he, um … so, yes, she’d dreamed about him. Hot, sweaty dreams that she’d prayed never to wake up from. In her dreams, they’d done a lot more than meet, going well past “hello, how are you” to “let me stick my tongue down your throat while we get started on our first-born child.”
Somewhere in the back of Sam’s mind, she knew running her gaze up and down the man’s body was rude, but who could stop themselves?
He stood there all dark and scruffy in dark slacks and a charcoal sweater that hugged his biceps and chest. He looked photoshoot ready, and Sam had a hard time not being grateful that he wasn’t covering himself up with a suit jacket.
She guessed going from BDUs and a flak jacket, or whatever it was SEALs wore, to a business suit was too much. She liked his choice of compromise just fine. She wondered briefly if spinning her finger in the air to indicate he should turn so she could see his backside would be too much.
Yeah. Probably. But maybe?
“Hi, Logan. It’s so good to see you again,” Jennie said smoothly, next to Samantha, putting her hand out to shake the man’s. Samantha continued to stare.
Close your mouth.
Well, at least the voice in her head wasn’t dumbstruck. That was always a positive.
On the negative side of the scale was the fact that Logan Stone had just heard her tirade against her boss’s taste in men.
“And, this is Samantha Page,” Jack said, gesturing to Sam as she forced her mouth to close. “She was going to be showing you guys the ropes and getting you settled in, but I think she’s got some complaints to lodge with HR over your qualifications,” Jack quipped and Sam found her mouth falling open once again.
He was joking about this? She’d called him sex-on-a-stick and he was joking?
Samantha closed her mouth and cleared her throat. “I’m good, Jack. No complaints here. I’ll just, um, I’ll get, um ….”
Oh, my hell. Stop babbling and say something—anything—moderately intelligible. Or burst into flames. Developing the ability to go up in flames right now would be handy.
“Hi,” the man of her dreams intoned, his deep voice washing over every atom of her body, stroking her in a way she’d felt only in her dreams. “It’s nice to meet you, Samantha.” He said the words, but kept his hands shoved in his pockets.
And, with that, in front of Jennie, her boss, and the man whose kids she hoped to have one day, Samantha Page opened her mouth and said, “Gah.”
Logan knocked on the jamb of the open door to Sam’s office. He’d spent the rest of the morning in meetings with his new team and Jack. They prioritized the research projects Jack wanted everyone working on and the acquisitions Logan would be looking into in the coming months.
“Hey, Sam.” Logan watched as Sam’s head shot up, her attention ripped from her computer, which apparently held something enthralling. So enthralling, she hadn’t noticed he’d been watching her for the past few minutes. The woman intrigued the crap out of him. Unfortunately.
She had a habit of rubbing the tip of her nose with her index finger as she focused, then tapping it whenever she smiled as though she’d had a breakthrough or some big “aha!” moment.
Logan blinked his eyes purposely, a trick he’d used during his years in special ops when he needed to clear his mind and refocus. Like the click of an old slide show projector, Logan moved to