Grace Farrell is a genius scientist first, a woman a distant second--until she meets Logan Sutherland. The self-made millionaire is wickedly sexy, and with him, Grace learns a new lesson--how it feels to want a man.
Logan has his roving eye on Grace from the moment she steps onto his tropical island. But when he discovers she's there under false pretenses, he orders her to leave. Faced with her refusal, the cynical bachelor works it all to his advantage. He'll let her stay--in his bed! But will one night be enough?
Logan Sutherland was strolling toward the hotel lobby of the exclusive Alleria Resort when the jarring sound of shattering glass reverberated from the cocktail lounge.
"Price of doing business," Logan muttered. But he stopped and listened for another moment.
And heard nothing. Not a sound.
"Hell," he said, and checked his watch. The conference call was scheduled to start in fifteen minutes. He didn't have time for this. But the ominous silence made him change direction and head for the bar.
Logan and his twin brother, Aidan, had made their fortunes designing and operating exotic, upscale cocktail bars in highend hotels all over the world. So the sound of breaking glassware was rarely a cause for alarm. But in his experience, the breakage was invariably followed by raucous cheers, jeers and laughter. Never silence.
Silence meant something was wrong. And Logan Sutherland was not a man who allowed things to go wrong without doing something about it.
He walked into the casually elegant bar and noted that the sound level still hadn't risen, even though the place was busy and most of the tables were occupied by hotel guests having a good time. Cocktail waitresses and waiters moved swiftly from table to table, serving drinks and appetizers. The quiet was disconcerting.
A small group of his people were gathered in a knot at the far end of the long bar, all of them crouched on the floor. He approached the head bartender on duty. "What's going on, Sam?"
Sam flicked his chin toward the other end of the bar. "New cocktail waitress dropped a full tray of drinks."
"Why is it so quiet?"
Sam took a few seconds to study the drink station halfway down the long bar where two junior bartenders were efficiently refilling the drink orders. Then he turned and made eye contact with Logan. "We're all a little worried about her, boss."
"Why?" Logan glanced again at the small crowd. "Did she cut herself?"
He lifted a shoulder. "Naw, she's just a real sweet kid. It wouldn't be nice to laugh at her."
Logan frowned at the brawny former Marine, then turned to get a better look at the new employee.
The small group of servers and busboys picked up the last of the big chunks of broken glass and dispersed, heading back to their own stations. One waitress remained as a busboy swept the residual shards of glass into a dustpan. Then she knelt down and, with several bar towels, sopped up the rest of the liquid.
"Thank you so much, Paolo," the waitress said, and squeezed the busboy's arm affectionately. He took the clump of towels from her and she headed back to the drinks station. That's when Logan got his first look at the "real sweet kid." And felt a solid wall of heat almost knock him off his footing.
His second thought was: Hope she's wearing sunblock, because her skin was so pale and smooth and creamy.
His first thought had been vividly X-rated and not suitable for discussion in mixed company.
And none of that made him happy.
She was a classic redhead with a peaches-and-cream complexion and a light dusting of freckles across her nose. Thick, dark red hair tumbled down her back in rich, lustrous waves. In her official uniform of bikini top and filmy sarong, Logan couldn't help but notice she had a world-class butt and perfect breasts.
She was tall, a quality Logan preferred in his women--not that it mattered, since he didn't have time for or interest in a relationship right now. On the other hand, who said anything about a relationship? He could...