To Catch a Billionaire Dragon

Chapter Five

Logan had trouble concentrating on his work next day, which almost never happened. He blamed it on not getting laid the previous night. Serena had been willing but he hadn't, so he had put her in a taxi and sent her on her way.

He needn't bother calling her again. Just as well. There were plenty of willing women in this city.

It wasn't until he had returned to his floor and his eyes had shot to the door of Laurel's apartment that it had dawned on him why he hadn't wanted to sleep with his date. His mind had been on Laurel and their kiss.

He shouldn't have kissed her, but he hadn't been able to resist. He had wanted to wipe away the fog that had descended on her when her book filled her mind. The challenge of making her see him had been irresistible.

At first he seemed to have succeeded. She had answered beautifully, allowing him to deepen the kiss and take it much farther than he had intended. And when she put a stop to it, as if the kiss had meant nothing, and he had been left standing, staring at the closed door.

A lesser man would have admitted defeat, but he hadn't gotten where he was by giving up. He had arrived in New York ten years ago with a business degree and empty pockets—but with a head full of ideas and determination to see them through. During the past decade he had built his business to what it was today. It hadn't always been easy and he had faced treacherous business partners and the volatility of the mobile app industry. Compared to those, a woman wasn't much of a challenge.

But she would be much more pleasurable to conquer.

Instead of working, he spent the day devising and discarding plans for how to make her see him—and not her dragon. What had she called him, arrogant and self-centered? He would have to prove otherwise.

If only he could make her stop thinking about her book for five minutes.

The answer that came to him was perfect in its simplicity. He would have to engage her mind with things that would make reality seem more fascinating than her imaginary world. Luckily, New York was the perfect place to make it happen.

He left home earlier than usual, shocking his stalwart secretary, Mrs. Lincoln, badly. But he needed to make some preparations on his way home and he couldn't trust her to do them. Or, actually, the middle-aged woman, who had worked for him almost from the start, could have done everything and probably better. He simply didn't want her to know.

At home, he made a quick change into less formal clothes. Laurel hadn't been impressed with his suit, so he wore jeans and a T-shirt instead. They weren't clothes he wore in New York often, but he liked them. And the shirt had the added benefit of showing that the fireman wasn't the only guy with upper body mass.

Taking a deep breath to calm his erratically beating heart, he walked to Laurel's door. She answered his knock so fast she must have been standing in the hallway. "Were you headed out?"

She looked baffled for his unscheduled appearance—or his altered appearances. "Yes, I need to eat."

"Good. I was hoping that. Come." Not giving her a chance to refuse, he hooked her arm around his and guided her to the elevator. She didn't resist.

He wasn't the only one with altered looks. Her hair was brushed, falling in a shiny brown cascade of curls down her back. She was wearing a light yellow summer dress that left her shoulders and arms bare and accentuated the soft mounds of her tiny breasts. On her feet she wore dainty sandals instead of slippers. There was even some makeup on her face. But she was still the same wood nymph he had met yesterday.

"You look beautiful."

She startled. "Umm. Thanks?"

Her inability to take the compliment amused him. "You're welcome. Don't men usually tell you that?"