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Tilly jumped off the bar stool as soon as the billionaire strode inside the kitchen, which was this massive, industrial-looking beauty with all the necessary bells and whistles. It was twice as large as her entire apartment actually, but as soon as Logan Hardwall walked in, his presence immediately made the kitchen feel cramped and claustrophobic.
Or maybe it was just her being horny?
Tilly quickly summoned a smile as he slid into the stool next to her. "Hello again. I hope you like tomato soup."
Logan saw that there was only a single placemat on the counter. "You're not having any?"
"I'll just have tea if that's okay?"
"Of course." He took a sip and was pleasantly surprised. "This is good," he said gruffly.
Tilly beamed. "If you're wondering what makes this soup different," she said in a conspiratorial whisper, "the secret ingredient is cheese."
"Illuminating."
She choked back a giggle at his dry response, but she was secretly relieved. The man had a sense of humor. For someone like her who lived by the 'laughter is the best medicine' mantra, that was a very, very good thing.
When he finished the entire thing, she said eagerly, "There's more if you want?"
"If it's not too trouble..."
"Of course." Tilly made short work of heating the rest of the soup she had set aside, her movements in the kitchen depicting assurance and grace despite the rather unnerving sensation of having the billionaire's gaze following her every movement.
Because there couldn't be any mistake this time.
He was staring at her, and she just didn't know what it meant, considering what she knew of him.
After signing the mail-order wedding contract Heart's Match had brokered, she had subsequently received two letters in her mailbox. The first had been from Charlotte, the agency's CEO, and apparently Logan's childhood friend as well.
I'm breaking company rules by writing this, but since it's my friend's happiness at stake, and I truly hope your marriage would work...
Logan has a habit of isolating himself from people by acting - okay, by being - cold and aloof. From what I can tell, the guys and I, and the women they've married, are the only ones he's lowered his guard with.
He thinks of marriage as a business, and all his life he's only let himself date a certain type of woman. Usually, they're doctors, lawyers, accountants - "smart" women, extremely polished, and socially savvy. He thinks his future wife must be an asset to his business.
I have no idea what's going to happen when you two finally meet for the first time, but just remember...Logan has had a lifetime to living like some kind of cold-blooded machine, and every decision he makes is based on how much money it would bring him.
It may not seem obvious now, but who you are as a person is exactly the kind of wife Logan needs.
The second letter had been an even bigger surprise, since it was from Mrs. Devon Montgomery herself.
Thank you so much for warning me about what Caryn intended to do. It was something you didn't have to do in the first place, and you even stood to lose your job by doing it. I know it's not much, now that you are about to marry Logan, but I'd like to let you know my husband and I are truly grateful for what you've done. So if there is anything you need, please don't hesitate to reach out to either of us.
And as for Logan...I've always found him to be courteous and kind, but I think this also has to do with the fact that I'm Devon's wife. There are times though, when I think he has the saddest eyes, so perhaps...you're the one to make him smile?
My own marriage had a very rocky start, and there was a time I even had to leave Devon, thinking there would be no hope for us. But we've obviously worked things out, and I do hope and pray it will be the same for you. I very much trust Charlotte's instincts with these things; if she believes you are the one for Logan, then I believe in this, too.
Your new friend for life,
Harry
P.S. Logan's heart may seem like it's made of the toughest, coldest ice, but even the smallest fire can make it melt. You just need to keep the fire burning long enough for the ice to thaw.
Remembering that last line almost made Tilly smile. It wouldn't have surprised her if Harry had become a lot more sophisticated after marrying a billionaire, but with her adorably cheesy postscript claiming otherwise, Tilly could allow herself to believe that maybe what Harry had said was true.
She had found herself a new friend for life, and since said friend told her to trust Charlotte, who had in turn basically advised Tilly to be herself...
"Here you go." Tilly served Logan his second bowl with a flourish, the way she normally did back at home. Her over-the-top antics were usually enough to send Billie into hysterics, but she obviously had her work cut out when the same gesture only earned her a politely-worded response of thanks from the billionaire.
Logan could feel her eyes on him again as he took a sip of her soup, and fuck if he knew what to do about it. Women staring at him in greedy, calculated fashion, he was used to, and so were women who looked at him as nothing but a sexual conquest to boast to their equally shallow-minded friends.
Tilly Wakefield, on the other hand...
The way she looked at him was different, Logan thought broodingly. And he wasn't sure at all if that was a good thing. In fact, he had this rather sudden urge to leave the room, to get the hell out before it was too late—-
"Do you know what convinced me you were the one?"
Shit.
He should've listened to his instincts, dammit.
Now, it was too late, and bolting out would make it seem he was this asshole who hadn't any time to talk about the stuff that women tended to obsessively overanalyze.
"You're supposed to say yes," Tilly prompted.
"Was I?"
Tilly couldn't keep her lips from twitching at the billionaire's utterly bland tone. "You really have the most amazingly dry humor. Any chance you're British?"
"Not at the moment, but a new citizenship can be easily arranged, if that's what it takes."
"If that's what it takes?" she echoed blankly.
"To earn a free pass from having to listen to what you have to say."
She tried to scowl but found it impossible and could only swallow back a laugh. "It's that, by the way."
Logan frowned. "Excuse me?"
"You didn't have to let me know you're not in the mood to hear me talk, but you told me anyway. You're unfailingly honest, and you were exactly like that, too, in your letter. You totally didn't care about how much of an ass—-"
The billionaire raised a brow.
"I mean, how astute a man you would come across as, realizing that someone in my circumstances would be suitable for your needs."
Logan's lips twitched. "Nice save, Ms. Wakefield."
"Desperate straits, desperate measures, Mr. Hardwall," she answered winsomely.
His cock twitched at the subtle note of submission in the way she said her name, and Logan bit back a curse. What the hell was wrong with his body?
Tilly cleared her throat. "Anyway, I was thinking, since we've already established the preliminaries—-"
"Which is my honesty," Logan slotted in, "and your desperation—-"
Tilly let out a strangled gasp of laughter, but the billionaire only raised a brow, as if asking what she had to feel insulted about when he had simply spoken the truth.
Oh, the gall!
"I'm still waiting, Ms. Wakefield. Or have you brought the point up for no reason—-"
She rolled her eyes. "I'm not like that."
"Then your point is—-"
"I want you to kiss me." And now it was her lips that twitched, with the way the billionaire's jaw completely dropped.
"Where the fuck did that come from?"
Tilly couldn't help wincing. "Language please."
He shot her a look of incredulity. "Are you a kid?"
"We both know I'm not," she said patiently, "but your nephew is, and so is my sister."
"They're not—-" Tilly's stubborn look made the billionaire change his mind about continuing his argument. He had not gotten to where he was by beating his head against the wall, and he would not start now.
"Thank you," Tilly said graciously.
Logan didn't answer, a part of him slightly chafing at the fact that he had given in so easily.
"And to answer your question, I just want to know, for your convenience of course," she clarified quickly, "if we're sexually compatible. Because if we're not, then you're free to, you know, and you won't have any problems with me. I know I can trust you to keep your word about being discreet and—-"
"Tilly."
His voice was soft and polite, a blade that quietly cut through her words, and Tilly fell silent.
Because even without ever being in a relationship, Tilly was still a woman, and she knew instinctively that saying her name was the billionaire's way of courteously asking her to shut up.
Oh dear.
As Tilly worried about having possibly displeased the billionaire for having a magpie for a wife, the billionaire's thoughts were actually running in the opposite direction, with her words echoing inside his mind.
I would like you to kiss me.
He couldn't fucking stop thinking about it, and the way her chest was rising and falling in rapid fashion in front of him was just like her unknowingly adding salt to the wound. The sight made him feel he had ended up wearing pants a tad size smaller, with how especially tight it was around the crotch, and his rigid, painfully throbbing cock fit to burst out of them any second now.
I would like you to kiss me.
The memory had him biting back a hiss of need. Damn if he didn't want the same thing. Most people thought he had a thing for tall, leggy blondes because they were his most frequent piece of arm candy. But the truth was, that particular type always left him cold, and it was precisely the reason why his former mistresses all looked like real-life Barbies. He would always be in control with women like them, whereas with voluptuous, dark-haired beauties....
(Women like Tilly Wakefield)
There was every fucking chance Logan might just end up like his father, whose life had been completely ruined by his decision to let his dick rule his supposedly mega-sized brain.
Put a fucking end to this before it's too late.
That was what his common sense was ordering him to do. She was a potential danger to him, being exactly his type, with her silky dark tresses, innocent eyes, and hourglass curves. Reneging on the contract he signed with Heart's Match would cost him a fortune, but at least he would be safe from the clutches of obsession. Money, he could easily recoup, but once this woman had her claws buried into him, and she turned out to be just another money-grubbing bitch like his own mother...
Get rid of her.
But instead, his gaze slowly moved up to take hers captive.
He watched her swallow. Saw her chest rise and fall even more quickly than before. And then her tongue was slowly slipping out to wet her lips.
Fuck.
Tilly could barely breathe, much less think. The billionaire was suddenly gazing at her with hungry, dark eyes. Almost like a wolf about to eat its morsel of flesh, and oh, how she wanted to be eaten—-
The unexpected sound of nearing footsteps startled both of them, with Tilly straightening self-consciously while the billionaire jerked away as if she was suddenly contagious.
A moment later, one of the security guys working the graveyard shift appeared by the doorway. "Mr. Hardwall!"
"Good morning, Sam." The billionaire's tone was calm, almost languid even, that it felt like he was daring the younger man to jump to conclusions.
Which Sam the security guy was obviously struggling not to do, Tilly couldn't help noticing, with the way his curious glance kept flicking towards her direction.
"Welcome, um, back, sir."
The billionaire simply inclined his head in acknowledgment, leaving Sam to awkwardly fill the silence.
"I shall get going. Sir. Ms. Wakefield."
"Tilly please," she said quickly, but this only had Sam smiling rather uneasily as he backed out of view. She turned back to face the billionaire, her gaze searching his beautiful face for any clue to his thoughts. But it was as if he had this perfectly impenetrable mask on, and it was so convincing that Tilly couldn't help wondering if she had imagined those last few moments they had been alone with each other.
Because the billionaire looking at her like she was the hottest little thing he had ever seen...
Nah.
That made even lesser sense.
So she had to be imagining it—-
"Thank you for the soup. I apologize for not being here when you and your sister arrived. I hope to make her acquaintance soon."
Especially since the billionaire appeared abruptly and inexplicably hell-bent on getting away from her.
"It's fine—-"
"Perhaps we can talk more tomorrow."
"I'd like—-"
"Good night, Ms. Wakefield."
"Um..."
But she was already talking to dead air, and Tilly's voice trailed off as she was left staring blankly as the billionaire practically walked out on her, almost as if he had an urgent need to place as much distance between them...like, well...like she was the one who had suddenly turned wolf instead, and he was her prey?