Resisting Mr. Rich (The Men Series Book 8)

“HOW ARE YOU FRIENDS with him? You’re you, and he’s… he’s…” I study the canopy above the bed as I lie on my back. It’s a beautiful four poster with gilded arches beneath the four corner posts.

Everything about Logan’s mansion is luxurious. Being stuck here with any other man would be paradise.

“Relax, sis. He’s not that bad.”

“If by not that bad you mean better than being a man and having your balls rubbed in poison ivy and then nibbled off by rabid rats, then you’re right,” I reply brightly, smiling at the thought of it happening to Logan.

My smile falls right away as I imagine his dick. Imagine each long, thick, hard inch that pressed into me in the bathroom earlier.

Drew laughs. “He’s a good guy beneath the bad jokes. You said he apologized, right?”

“Yeah,” I grumble.

“So, he gets it wrong sometimes. But he has a good heart.”

I roll onto my tummy and pick a piece of fluff off the duvet. “If you say so.”

I don’t sound convinced because I’m not. But Drew is a good judge of character, and he’s been friends with Logan for years. Maybe Logan’s been a good friend to Drew since the joyriding incident. But I still can’t forgive him for leaving my brother and getting his dad to bail him out.

“How is everyone?” I change the subject. “Mum and Dad?”

“Yeah, they’re…” Drew pauses.

“They’re what? Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine.” He exhales slowly and the tension laced in his breath makes me sit upright.

“Drew?”

“Mum’s just…” He pauses again. “She thinks Dad’s having an affair.”

“What? That’s ridiculous.” I laugh as Drew remains silent on the other end of the phone. “He wouldn’t do that.”

“I know you…” Drew pauses again as if choosing his words carefully. “I know you and he are close. But he’s not perfect, Maddy.”

“I know. But, come on. This is Dad.” I wait for Drew to agree, but he doesn’t. “Why would you even think he would do that?” I whisper, my stomach knotting painfully.

“Mum found hotel charges on his credit card.”

“So? He uses them for work all the time when he’s working cases.”

Dad’s job in the police regularly takes him away.

“And condoms in his wallet.”

“But—” The air leaves my lungs. Mum’s gone through the menopause. We laughed about all the hormones and how men have it easier. “He wouldn’t, would he?”

“I hope not. But Mum seems convinced.”

“Oh, God.” I rub at my temples with my free hand.

“I didn’t want to tell you while you were away. Mum’s not making any decisions yet. She said she wants to think it over.”

“I can’t even… Shall I come home? Does she need me to? I can talk to Logan, I’m sure he can help me get a flight or…”

I think about the look on his face as I screamed that I hated him. He looked shocked. Like he had no idea. I mean, how could he not? I think it’s damn obvious. And I threw those slippers at him. My stomach clenches. Too far? I did go raving bitch on him.

I doubt he’ll help me now even if I beg.

“No. I didn’t tell you so that you’d come back early. And that’s the last thing Mum wants. She’s so happy that you got a full-length feature. It’s what you wanted.”

“Even if it’s about Logan?”

“Especially because it’s about Logan.”

“Don’t tell me Mum’s part of his fan club too?”

Drew chuckles. “She’s seen the kid she fed chocolate spread sandwiches to on play dates become a world-leader in his field of expertise. She’s just excited for him.”

The thought makes my heart clench. Mum’s always been the first to tell us she’s proud of us. And growing up, she was always looking out for our friends, too.

“Are you sure she’s okay?”

I don’t want to believe Dad would cheat. There’s got to be an explanation. People don’t do that to someone they love. And he loves Mum.

“She will be.” Drew sighs. “Mum’s been unhappy awhile. This isn’t the first time she’s suspected Dad. This might be the start of something better for both of them.”

“What? She hasn’t. She’s never told me that.”

“She wouldn’t.” Drew’s voice is heavy. “She wouldn’t want either of us worrying about her. She’s made it work for the family.”

My stomach sinks. How have I been blind for so long? I thought they were happy. They were never into public displays of affection. But they never seemed unhappy.

“Look, don’t worry about it. Nothing’s going to change overnight. Mum said to tell you to enjoy the rest of your trip. She’s loving the photos you’ve been sending.”

“I’m glad.” I smile weakly. “I’ll send her some of Rome. We did some sightseeing today.” I can’t muster the same usual joy about the wonderful places I’ve visited.

“Great, do it. She’ll love them. Listen, sis, I’ve got to go. Tan’s about to start one of his end of the day boring-ass roundups.”

Tanner quips some smart comeback to my brother that includes the words jack and ass in the background as Drew laughs.

Drew doesn’t sound concerned, so I shouldn’t be. It’s probably a misunderstanding. I hope it is. I can’t imagine Dad having an affair. Working for the police means his life is about right and wrong. But maybe I’m being naïve. Nothing’s black and white. There’re all shades of gray in-between.

I open my phone’s camera roll to select images to send to Mum. I include the photo of me and Logan at The Vatican. The one where I’m definitely not smiling. Mum will like it. I haven’t sent any with Logan to her. Plus, it’ll be evidence I haven’t murdered him yet.

I drop my phone onto the bed as there’s a soft knock on the door.

“Come in.” I sigh.

Logan’s lucky the call from Drew has sucked all the energy from me and left me feeling numb. Because otherwise I’m sure I could go for round two if he makes any smartass comments.

The door cracks open and something white is stuck through it, attached to a coat hanger.

Logan waves it like a truce flag.

“I thought your feet might be cold.” He steps inside, pulling the slipper from the coat hanger and handing it to me, along with the second one in his other hand. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t throw them at me this time.”

I take both from his hands and nod, my throat thick as I keep my eyes cast down. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Is that an apology?”

“It’s an acknowledgment of potentially un guest-like behavior,” I say.

“Then I accept. On the condition that you accept this as my acknowledgment of un host-like behavior.” He holds his phone out in front of me and I lift my head to look at it.

“Why are you showing me a red room? I don’t want to know about Walrus kinks.”

His lips curl into a gentle smile. “It’s the royal box at Teatro alla Scala. Sterling gave us tickets to see a show.”

“He did?” Despite Drew’s phone call, my stomach flutters as I give the phone screen my full attention. The red velvet seats are lined up facing the stage in the private viewing box beneath beautiful golden architraves.

“It’s a love story. Right up your street,” Logan adds.

I wait for him to comment about the audiobook again. But he’s silent.

My eyes flick to his face and back to the phone screen. “But that’s in Milan. We aren’t going back there.”

“We can if you want to. I can move some of the Rome meetings around, have some when we come back here after Milan. It’d mean extending our trip, though. Your call.” He slides his phone back into the black joggers he’s put on.

One day extra with Logan.

Before our fight, nothing could have persuaded me to consider it. But now? It’s like the release of all the shouting, combined with the complete dragging sensation in my gut from Drew’s phone call, has gotten me needing to cling to something positive. To escape the real world.

“Would you like to go?” I ask.

“Yes.” His eyes hold mine as he answers without hesitation.

I remain silent for a few beats.

“But we don’t have—’

“Okay.” I swallow. “Thank you. I’d like to go.”

“Great. I’ll make the arrangements. You okay?” Logan’s brow knots.

I’m not trying to kill him with a slipper, of course he thinks something’s wrong. The atmosphere is a world apart from an hour ago when we were yelling at each other. But suddenly, I’m exhausted. The emotion of the whole day is weighing on my shoulders, making my stomach sore and my heart heavy.

“Just tired.”

“You know where I am if you need anything.”

My eyes snap back to his. “I told you I hated you and you’re not worried I’m going to smother you in your sleep?”

His eyes pinch at the corners briefly before his signature smirk pulls at his lips. “You also called me a Walrus when I came in. And not a gnat or another animal with an inverted dick. So I’d say we’re one degree away from murder now.”

“I’d say half a degree, but whatever.”

“Just to be on the safe side.” He takes the slippers from my hands gently, his thumb brushing over the top of my hand as he does. “I’d better keep these fluffy assassins.”

He walks over to the door, then leans one shoulder against the frame. “Good night, Smiles.”

My voice sounds as drained of energy as my body feels, but I still manage a quiet, “Goodnight, Prince.”

But it’s loud enough for Logan to hear, and he chuckles as he walks away.

When I wake the next morning, Logan’s gone. He’s left a note in the kitchen saying he’s moved some meetings around to allow for Milan and that I should get some rest.

I spend the day listening to my recordings and writing up notes, setting out a basic outline for the feature. I email Eve to keep her updated and speak to Chloe on the phone. I’ve no idea how long Logan will be, so I have a swim in the outdoor pool, take a shower, unable to even look at the bathtub, and then settle into the plush seating area in the kitchen to read a new book.

Two hours pass before the sound of shoes moving on the marble floor toward the kitchen pulls my attention away from my book. Logan walks in wearing a black suit, white shirt, and an emerald tie that makes his eyes stand out across the room.

I drop my gaze back to my e-reader. “I heard you coming from the front door. You know what would work if you were wanting to sneak up on someone?”

“What’s that?”

I glance up as he walks over to the coffee machine.

“Slippers.”

His shoulders stiffen before he chuckles.

“You want one?” He looks at me over his shoulder and our eyes meet. The sunlight from the window catches his hair, highlighting streaks of dark gold in the light brown.

“Had one already.”

He turns back around.

“Thanks, though,” I add.

I abandon my reading and watch the fluid way he moves around the kitchen, fetching a mug and getting the milk from the refrigerator as he reads messages on his phone.

“How was the meeting? Is there anything I should know for the feature?”

He frowns at whatever he’s reading before glancing up at me. “No. Straightforward. She invested the amount I told you.”

I nod as Logan’s attention returns to his phone. He was meeting a female entrepreneur today who developed a dating app that pairs people by matching their vibrations. It’s made her millions. And some high-profile couples swear by her method.

“Good. What was Halliday like? She’s young, isn’t she?”

“Mid-twenties, I think,” Logan replies absentmindedly as he stands in front of the coffee machine waiting for it to fill his mug.

“She looks nice in the photos.”

Logan smiles at something on his phone, his shoulders relaxing. “Sorry.” He glances at me apologetically, giving me his attention. “Yes, she’s beautiful. I just have to make a call.” He heads toward the door, coffee in hand, before turning as if forgetting something. “Did you have a good day?”

“Yeah. Did some work. Went for a swim. Been reading.” I lift my e-reader, and Logan looks at it and then smiles at me.

“Same book?”

I shake my head. “The next one in the series.”

He tips his head and winks at me. “I hope it’s as exciting as the last one.” Then he walks out and calls, “Happy reading.”

I stare at the rows of beautiful gowns lining the walls of the dressing room as I tug at the sleeves of my sweatshirt. This is… overwhelming. But Logan said his mum won’t mind.

My hand skims along the silks, cashmere, and tulle as I walk along. Where do I even start?

I take down a hanger with a long cream dress on. It’s got a high halter neck. I turn it around. Backless. I hang it back on the rack. I need something with in-built support if I can’t wear a bra.

I pull down another long dress. This one’s red with wide straps that lead to a scooped neckline, and it’s a thicker material. I lay it on the giant round velvet stool and pull my sweatshirt over my head to try it on.

Forty minutes later, and enough dresses that I’ve lost count, I give up, slumping onto the velvet stool with a groan. It’s no use. All these beautiful dresses and none fit. It’s not like my breasts are massive. Maybe on the larger side for my frame, but I inherited that from Mum. Chloe’s always said I should show them off more. But the rate this is going, I’ll have to wear my sweatshirt to the opera.

I stare glumly at all the brand-new designer shoes displayed in neat rows on the opposite wall. We aren’t even the same shoe size, so I’ve no luck there either.

“There aren’t any slippers in here. No matter how hard you stare, trying to find a pair.”

Logan’s standing in the doorway, his eyes glinting. He’s changed into his black joggers and T-shirt again.

“Destroy my dreams, why don’t you?”

He comes and drops next to me on the giant stool. He smells incredible. I should ask him what it is. I might get it for Drew. But then, why would I want my brother to smell like Logan? Why would I want anyone to smell like the man I can’t stand? Maybe I did hit my head in the bathroom yesterday.

“What’s with the frown?”

“I’m not frowning.”

Logan chuckles.

“I’m not.” I side-eye him, crossing my arms with a huff.

“All right, Mads. You aren’t.”

He falls into a happy silence next to me, his face relaxed as he looks around the dressing room.

“Why do you call me Mads? Everyone else calls me Maddy.”

He lifts one shoulder. “You don’t look mad when everyone else speaks to you. You save that face for me. Told you that you think I’m special.”

“Ugh, please.”

Logan lies on the stool, stretching his arms above his head with his usual smirk on his face. His t-shirt rides up showing off sculpted abs and muscular hipbones where his joggers hang low.

“My retinas are getting burned.” I tut and look away as he laughs.

He’s a lot happier since he came back from his meeting this morning. Less distracted. Maybe that’s got to do with the phone call he went off to make. Maybe he was calling Halliday to thank her for meeting him. He did say he thought she was beautiful.

I swallow, tracing circles in the plush carpet with my toe. “I was looking to see if there was a dress I could borrow for the opera.”

“And is there?”

Logan’s got his hands behind his head, his shoulders lifted as he looks at me. How can he look so comfortable? He’s holding a goddamn sit up position like he finds it relaxing.

“No.”

He sits all the way up, his brows pulling low. “Oh.” His eyes scan the racks full of clothes.

“I’m not being picky,” I huff. “They’re all beautiful.”

“Okay.” He rests his forearms on his thighs and turns his head to the side to look at me. His eyes soften, creasing at the corners as I chew on my lower lip.

“Don’t laugh.”

“Would I laugh at you?”

“Um, yes.” I snort and turn away. “Forget it.”

“Mads.”

I bring my eyes back to his. His face is serious.

“Fine.” I roll my eyes. “I can’t fasten any of them.”

“None?” Logan’s brows shoot up.

“God, I wish there was a slipper here right now because I’d beat your ass.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Like what?” I arch a brow at him, challenging him. It’s obvious to anyone with eyes I would never fit into any of his mum’s dresses. She’s tall and slim. And I’m smaller and curvy. Not only did I inherit my mum’s boobs, but I inherited her hips too. I don’t know why I even came in here to try dresses on. Stupid idea.

“Come on, Mads.” Logan smiles, his perfect, straight white teeth flashing as he avoids meeting my eyes. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Say what?” I bait him. I wonder what word he’ll use. A little bigger? Softer?

His eyes flick to my breasts beneath my sweatshirt, and he swallows making his Adam’s apple bob in his neck. “Your curves, they’re too, well, you know.”

“Enlighten me,” I grit.

“They’re…” Logan runs a hand around his jaw. “Sexy,” he says thickly. “Fucking sexy.”

Heat fires over my cheeks and I gape as he stands.

“We’ll go shopping tomorrow in Milan.” He smiles at me as though he did not just say the words that have set an unwelcome heat blazing a trail though my body.

“I thought you had a meeting here first. You said we were flying after lunch?” My voice comes out normal even though my heart is beating unnaturally fast.

I study his face for any sign of a smirk or cocky remark to tell me he was messing with me. But he’s already walking out of the door.

“I’ll sort it, Mads. Don’t worry. The prince won’t let you go to the ball without a dress.”

“Quit with the prince crap.” I fight the unexpected smile that’s trying to form on my face.

He grins and I stare after him as he leaves.

What the hell was that?

Sexy. Not just sexy. Fucking sexy.

The usual urge to vomit at the thought of Logan and the word sexy being used in the same sentence doesn’t hit me as it usually would.

But it’s still there. I swear it is.

I wrap my fingers around the edge of the stool centering myself.

I swear it is.