and Mr. Cullen are supposed to be flying to Jamaica tomorrow. With Mrs. Wellesley.”
“That’s Mrs. Cullen-Wellesley,” Rhys said mildly.
Logan’s chest tightened, and a dread he couldn’t quite dispel settled over him. He exchanged glances with Rhys but couldn’t read into Rhys’ expression.
“The trip will have to be postponed. Something has come up.”
“Doesn’t it always,” Paige murmured.
Logan stared, sure he hadn’t heard her correctly. Maybe he’d rethink that pay raise. He decided to ignore whatever it was his assistant had muttered under her breath.
“Get the flight arrangements made. Now. Report back as soon as you have.”
Paige turned and walked briskly from the office.
“Cat’s going to be disappointed,” Rhys said softly.
Logan closed his eyes. “I know. It can’t be helped, though. We can’t turn our backs on this. We can reschedule. We’ll take her wherever she wants to go just as soon as we get the lockdown on this new hotel.”
“I’ll call her,” Rhys said, reaching for the phone.
“I’ll call her from the car,” Logan said. They didn’t have time to spare, and if he was honest, he knew he didn’t want to face Catherine right now, even over the phone. If he allowed himself to think too long about her, he’d say to hell with the hotel and get on the plane with her to Jamaica.
“Call our driver instead. Tell him to be out front in ten minutes. We can ride together to the airport.”
As Rhys picked up the phone, Logan looked up to see Paige return.
“Your pilot is filing flight plans as we speak and will have the jet fueled and ready when you arrive at LaGuardia. I booked Mr. Cullen on a ten-thirty flight. You’ll need to get moving if you’re going to make it on time.”
Logan nodded approvingly. Paige turned to go, but he called her back.
“You need something else, sir?”
He swallowed. “I’d like for you to call Catherine tomorrow. See if there’s anything she needs.”
Annoyance flashed in Paige’s eyes. “Of course, sir.”
***
Catherine let herself into the apartment and kicked off her shoes before trailing across the living room toward the balcony. She was already packed for their trip, so she had nothing else to do with her evening except wait for them to come home.
She consoled herself with the idea that they’d probably gotten caught up with last-minute details. It had seemed a miracle when they’d agreed to the two-week trip to Jamaica. No phones, no email, no business, just the three of them on a tropical beach.
God, she missed them. Missed touching them, talking with them, snuggling into their arms after lovemaking. She touched her stomach again. She was three months pregnant. Three months ago had been the last time either man had made love to her. Before that? She couldn’t even remember.
She’d hoped that tonight, and their impending vacation, would go a long way in recapturing what was lost in their relationship. Somewhere along the way to making their business a success, Logan and Rhys had sacrificed themselves—and her—in the process. She knew it, had known that things could only be allowed to go so far, but now that she was pregnant, it seemed the most important thing in the world to gain that reassurance that she still came first with them, that their child would come first.
She was about to open the sliding glass door when the flashing red beacon on the answering machine caught her attention.
Her heart sped up, and she cursed the fact that she was so willing to forget and forgive at the mere idea Logan or Rhys had called to leave a message. They had her cell phone number, damn it, and if they’d left a message here, it just showed them for the cowards they were.
She blinked in surprise when the phone rang. She stood, staring at it, refusing to cross the room to answer. After four rings, the answering machine picked up, and her own voice filtered across the room.
She held her breath as Logan’s voice sounded.
“Catherine? Baby, pick up the phone. You must have let your cell phone go down again. I’ve been trying to call you.”
She vaulted for the phone, simultaneously reaching into her purse for her cell. As she yanked up the receiver, she fumbled with the cell, turning it over in her hand to see that it was, indeed, dead.
“Logan?” she said as she punched the on button.
“Catherine. Finally.”
“Logan, where are you?” she asked.
“I’m in the car. Something came up.” A long silence descended over the line, and she heard him suck in his