To Catch a Billionaire Dragon

Chapter Four

Logan's date wasn't a success by any measure. After showering and grabbing a quick sandwich, he had been late leaving for it. The elevator hadn't been fixed yet, so he'd had to walk seventeen floors down to the parking lot underneath the building. The restaurant was close to his building and he had hoped that a little speeding would make him catch the time, but an accident blocking traffic in his direction, and thereby a couple of blocks around it, had made that wish futile.

Perversely, he would have felt better if his date, Serena something or the other, a gallery worker he had met when purchasing art, had been angry with him, but she had been sympathetic to a fault. What kind of woman didn't throw a hissy fit after being made to wait in a restaurant for an hour?

Throughout the dinner she was attentive, hanging on to his every word. After being ignored by Laurel in the elevator it should have felt refreshing. What it felt was exhausting. He had to keep up the conversation practically by himself, until he couldn't anymore, midway through the main course. He wasn't upset when she didn't want dessert.

Tired and annoyed, he didn't feel inclined to take her to his home, even though sex was the only thing he had wanted from this date to begin with. But when he began to hint that he would take her straight home, she showed the first signs of animation the whole evening and got slightly angry.

Stifling a sigh, he walked her to his waiting car and tipped the valet before helping her into the passenger seat. The door closed, he was about to round the car to the driver's side when he noticed a familiar figure walking down the sidewalk.

"Laurel!" She was still wearing the same sweats, T-shirt and slippers, but there was only one pair of glasses on her forehead this time. The other pair was hanging from the neck of her shirt. Her gaze was focused, so she hadn't accidentally wandered out.

She turned to his voice and her brows shot up. "Hello?"

"What are you doing here?"

"I need coffee." Her tone indicated that the answer should be self-evident.

"At this hour?"

She glanced around, as if looking for a clock to check the time. "I need to work and I ran out."

He shook his head. "So you just went out, without checking the time or what you're wearing?"

"What's wrong with my clothes?"

"Everything."

"Not all of us can afford tailored clothing."

"I'm sure you own proper shoes, at least." He hadn't even come to think that her clothing might have to do with lack of funds, but new authors didn't really make anything. Ellen didn't even usually pay the house-sitters.

She shrugged. "They're comfortable."

"Well, hop in. I'll give you a lift home."

She was taken aback. "I'm not going home. I haven't got my coffee yet."

"Surely there were places open closer to our building where you could have found coffee?"

She grimaced. "Yeah ... I sort of became distracted with my book and walked past the first couple of places. Then I thought to just walk on to find the next one."

He closed his eyes and prayed for strength. "You ... Christ, how are you still alive?" He opened the back door for her. "Get in. I'll make you coffee."

Grumbling, she began to climb into the back seat, only to come to an abrupt halt. "You're on a date."

"So?"