Page 45 of When He Plays

Charlotte swallowed. He was right. The whole reason she was there right then? His grandmother had been put in danger not too long ago. The CIA had stepped in to help. To whisk her to a safe location. Now Logan was paying the debt he owed for his grandmother’s protection. “All I meant is that you are so much better than what you want the world to think you are.”

“No, sweetheart, I am not. I am twisted and dark in my very core.”

“Stop it. You aren’t the devil.”

“Don’t be too sure about that. If this murdering prick gets hold of you, I can guarantee, he will think he’s faced the devil before I am done with him.” Logan’s words held the unmistakable ring of truth.

She wet her lips. “Am I about to get the five minutes of serious Logan that I was promised before, back in the elevator?”

“You really want him? He’s not much fun. Still an ass, just without all the jokes.”

“I want the truth from you when I ask you questions. I want five minutes of no one-liners, no fast and sarcastic replies. I want the you that is hidden deep inside.”

“Only if I get truth and the real you in return. Because if you want to talk about masks…” The bed shifted. She knew he’d leaned closer to her. “A CIA spy has to wear a mask all the time, doesn’t she? That’s the whole gig. Constantly pretending to be someone else.” Silence. “Will the real Charlotte Webb stand up? Or, correction, will she speak up?”

“She will.” Whispered. “Five minutes.”

Another rustle of the sheets. The faintest clink of something setting down on…on what? The nightstand?

“I just set the timer on my phone,” Logan told her. “Five minutes of truth, then we sleep.”

Okay. He was really going to do it. This was unsettling. Oddly, Charlotte felt more nervous about these five minutes than she’d been when she chased down a criminal ring in Moscow.

“Why the hell are you in this business?” Logan asked her, apparently deciding to just jump right in with his questions. “Why are you putting yourself in danger to stop this particular killer? Why do you take all the risks that you do?”

Easy enough to answer those questions. “Because someone has to do it.”

“It doesn’t have to be you.”

“Aw, careful, Logan. I’ll start to think you care.” Was there a question hidden in her words? Maybe so. Maybe she was really wondering…Do you care? Could you care? And why did she even need to know that? They’d just met. She’d been forced into his life.

There was a hard silence following her words. He didn’t reply.

“Logan?” Hushed. “Thought we were doing five minutes of truth. Our serious time.”

“You don’t want me to care. That would be dangerous.”

Would it?

“Do you have someone at home, waiting for you?” Logan pressed her. “That the reason you don’t want to fuck me?”

“There is no one at home.” She didn’t even have a real home. How could she? Charlotte spent most of her time hopping from one global hotspot to another. “And I do want to fuck you.” Oh, crap. Mistake. Admitting that had been a mistake, but it had also been the truth. She believed in sticking to her word.

She’d promised him the truth. She’d give it to him.

“Excellent,” Logan murmured. “On both counts. Because if someone had been at home, waiting on you, I might just have to go punch the bastard in the face.”

“Why?” Her turn for a question.

“Because I don’t want you with someone else. I only want you with me.” Total truth rang in his words. So did a dark, compelling desire.

But he did not come over the pillow. He’d told her he wouldn’t and yet…“It would be a mistake,” she heard herself say. “If we became involved that way.”

“Um, who cares? Best mistake ever, guaranteed.”

Her eyes closed. “I try not to make mistakes.”

“Every man loves to be called a mistake, for future reference. Feels incredible. Amazing for the ego.”