Logan 02 Three Minutes to Happiness Read online

  Finn’s stomach clenched, as though someone had crushed his internal organs in a vice. “How do you think he’ll feel when he finds out you’re screwing around?”

  “Sex is just sex!” Sorcha shouted. “You know that—you have casual relationships. It doesn’t have to be…”

  He has sex without love, but never like Sorcha just had. Never without at least mutual respect, caring, and friendship. The fact that she might have taken Finn’s sex life as a blueprint carved a hole in his heart. “That guy was a jerk, Sorcha,” he said quietly. “I’d never treat a woman like that.”

  She crumpled. Long, deep sobs wracked her body. “I know.” Her words were a broken whisper. “I know you wouldn’t.”

  Chapter Nine

  Puppies are cute. So are babies. Every actor knows not to work with either. Photographers know never to work with both at the same time. Unfortunately Fiona knew neither of these things.

  Hence this morning’s nightmare.

  Val gritted her teeth in a parody of a grin that was closer to rictus than pleasant. She’d been busy all morning photographing a newly engaged couple and then snatched a quick sandwich Fiona had fetched from the deli on the corner. The clients had arrived before she’d even finished her coffee, together with their three-month-old puppy and year-old child. They’d wanted a picture of “their wonderful friendship”, to “treasure for always”.

  They were out of their frickin’ minds.

  “He’s just started crawling,” the mother said proudly. Crawling after the puppy and pulling its tail. The usual photography spot on a raised dais was completely out of the question, so Val had dressed an area of floor, lit it, and now the only challenge was to frame both baby and puppy in the same shot.

  It sounded easy, but was turning out to be impossible. Once she had the baby positioned, facing the lens, and smiling, the puppy either wandered off, pooped, or licked the child’s face, resulting in both parents diving into view to pull the puppy off.

  “Maybe if we give puppy one of his toys?” she suggested, picking up a red rubber bone from the floor, “it might keep him occupied.” She was tempted to give one to the baby as well. Picture that as a Christmas card. Baby and Puppy enjoying their treats. Before she could help herself, she started to laugh at the idea, but quickly changed her laughter into a cough, which came out more as a mutant snort.

  The baby’s father had reached the end of his rope. His teeth were gritted so hard he was in danger of shattering his back teeth. Maybe a rubber bone for him too.

  “Okay.” The baby’s mother sat her son back in place, and settled the puppy next to him. She proffered the bone to the puppy who took it in his mouth. Val held her breath as she watched through the viewfinder. “That’s it,” she breathed. “Just back away a tiny bit…” Her finger hovered over the shutter release.

  The sudden ring of the telephone cued pandemonium.

  The baby looked toward the ringing noise, and the puppy dropped the bone and erupted in a flurry of barks.

  Val wanted to storm out, scream, or preferably both. “Damn!”

  “Oh God, sorry.” Fiona grabbed the phone.

  When the clients left, Val sank onto the nearest chair.

  Fiona brought her coffee, and a donut. “I picked some up on the way in this morning,” she said. “I thought it might turn out to be a donut day.”

  “Damn right.” Val bit in to the donut, savoring the sugar hit.

  “The call was from another studio—Love Shots,” Fiona said. “They have a problem, their photographer is sick, and they have a boudoir shoot set up next week that they can’t cancel—they wanted to know if we could help out.”

  Simon was clear on this one, they never did boudoir shoots, the studio space was bright and open, and faced the street. A definite no-no when it came to intimate photography.

  “Did you tell them we aren’t set up for it?”

  Fiona nodded. “They are doing the pictures at the client’s house.” She handed over a scrap of paper with a number scrawled on it. “I told them you’d give them a call.”

  Val called and spoke to the owner of Love Shots, Susan McDonald.

  “Simon should be back by the end of next week. I’m not sure exactly when, and I don’t know how his schedule is looking.” She’d flipped through the appointments diary, but as usual Simon had left it blank.

  “I need a female photographer for this assignment,” Susan said. “I was hoping that you could do it.”

  She was working full time while Simon was away, but without anything concrete, she was expecting to go back to part-time next week. Picking up some extra work was vital.

  “What day?”

  “Wednesday.” Susan stated a fee that made Val’s head reel. “It’s a dudeoir shoot, the client wants to surprise his fiancée with a portfolio of intimate shots. We’ll provide all the props and a make-up artist, and I’ll be coming along to help with poses and preparation.”

  Val swallowed. She’d never done nude photography before. Forcing a steadiness into her voice that she didn’t feel, she asked, “Totally nude?”

  “No, no. Not this guy. Topless, and some sexy, but not the full monty.”

  Val reached across the desk and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. “Great. Give me the details, and I’ll see you Wednesday.”

  By the end of the day, Val felt as wrung out as the mop they’d used to clean the floor. She kicked off her shoes and padded into the kitchen to search the cupboards for chocolate biscuits. The door pushed open. Fiona’s brown eyes were open so wide she looked as though she’d had an electric shock. “There’s someone here. I was just on my way out, and he…”

  “Just tell him we’re closed.” There was no way in hell she would take anyone else’s photograph tonight.

  Fiona’s large hoop earrings banged against the side of her face as she shook her head. “No, he’s not a client. He said he was here for you.” Fiona’s voice lowered. “And if you don’t want him, can I have him?”

  It had to be Finn. “Tall, dark and handsome?”

  “That’s him.”

  Val grabbed a chocolate digestive and ate it quickly. “Right.” She pushed the door open to check that it wasn’t another tall, dark, handsome stranger looking for her, spotted him, and turned to Fiona. “You head on. I’ll lock up.”

  “Okay.”

  His gaze was glued to her as she came back into the studio. Dimly, Val was aware of Fiona leaving, then they were alone.

  “Hi.” Her voice was husky.

  “Lock the door.” Finn didn’t move as Val walked past him, flipped the open sign to closed, and turned the lock. “What’s through here?” Finn pointed. “The kitchen.”

  He reached for her hand and let the way into the secluded room.

  “Finn, what—”

  “I don’t want to play games anymore.” He turned, stepped close, and stole her mouth in a kiss so filled with passion her head swam. His hands snaked around her waist, bringing her flush against his hard body.

  With a sigh, Val’s lips parted. This was no gentle exploration, no soft seduction, this was heat, and its blaze set her aflame. He was so tall, without heels, she had to go up on tiptoe to get closer.

  Without breaking the contact of their mouths, Finn lifted her onto the countertop, so that their bodies were closer aligned. Val spiked her fingers through his hair, loving the feel of the dark strands against her fingers. With every inhale, she breathed in his scent.

  His fingers skimmed the waist of the red dress she wore. Her knees were open, but she edged them further apart. With one hand flat on the flare of her waist, Finn pulled her closer in a move so sudden that her breath left her lungs in a heated rush.

  He still hadn’t spoken more than a few words, but his actions spoke for him. With an expertise born of experience that she didn’t want to think about, he eased the dress from her shoulders.

  Val’s heart accelerated, she felt hot and shivery at the same time. “I don’t either,” she whisper
ed as his mouth traced down the sensitive skin of her neck.

  Finn looked up, a trace of amusement mixed with the arousal evident in the depths of his eyes.

  Val ran her hand down his neck, across his shoulders. Heat pooled between her legs as he ran a hand through her hair. “There’s no-one else,” he murmured against her neck. “No-one but you.”

  He was different somehow. Urgent. Even though there was still a smile on his mouth, Finn’s eyes revealed desperation in their depths. Something had happened. Something bad.

  “What is it?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing. I just wanted to see you, that’s all.”

  “It’s more than that.” She didn’t know why she had to push, but she did. “Something has happened.”

  Finn stepped back, and ran his hand though his hair. His mouth thinned. “Sorcha decided to cross over to the wild side last night.”

  Val got down from the counter, pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat down. “What happened?”

  Finn sank onto a chair too. He blew out a breath, lines of strain evident in the corners of his eyes. She examined him more closely. There were dark shadows under his eyes. “I went out last night to see Alison.”

  A wave of jealousy flooded through Val at the other woman’s name.

  “I saw her. I finished things. The harem has been disbanded. I’m completely unencumbered. Totally yours, if you’ll have me.”

  That’s a loaded statement. One she decided to ignore, for now. Val chewed on her bottom lip. “What happened with Sorcha?”

  “When I came home she was having sex with a stranger on my sofa.” His dark eyebrows pulled together. “She was high. He’d given her cocaine.”

  Horror stole Val’s breath. “But she’s just a kid.” Drugs were rife, but Sorcha seemed such an innocent.

  “She says it was her first time. I half expected she’d sneak Steven in when I was out, but a complete stranger she’d picked up...” His fingers went to his forehead, his thumb rested on his cheekbone and he closed his eyes. “I can’t work and babysit her, not if she’s going to go off the rails at every possible moment. The guy she was with was a total scumbag.”

  “What about her parents?”

  His eyes opened. “They live in London, but they’re away at the moment. They indulge her, but not in a good way, what Sorcha wants, Sorcha gets, except what she really wants, their attention. I’d wanted to shield my family from Sorcha’s wildness, but I had to call in the big guns.” The stress on his face lightened for a moment. “And there’s no bigger gun than my mother.”

  The thought of actually relying on a parent to help was so alien Val just stared.

  “My parents live outside Dublin in Brookbridge. Ma has plenty of experience in dealing with recalcitrant teens. She raised all of us, and that was no picnic. So first thing this morning I drove Sorcha and her stuff out to their house. She needs a talking to, and she needs to be watched 24/7. There’s no better person to do that than my parents.”

  “How was she about it?”

  “She wanted to keep everything secret, begged me not to spill. She cried.” He grimaced. “I hate women who cry. She was shocked when we all sat around my mother’s kitchen table and I told them absolutely everything, and even more shocked that her aunt listened to the whole story without passing judgment. I left them talking.”

  “Your mother sounds like one hell of a woman.”

  “She is.” He reached forward and trailed a finger down her cheek. “You’re going to like her.”

  Meeting the parents? The sands were shifting so fast, Val felt in danger of falling.

  Finn stood. He looked around. “Have you finished for the night?”

  Val nodded.

  “Lock up, and come home with me.”

  *****

  After he’d left his parents’ home there had only been one possible destination. To Val. The showdown with Sorcha had rattled Finn to his core. They’d stayed up for hours, talking after he’d thrown her date out. He’d learned more about his cousin than he’d ever suspected. Sorcha never had the open, all-encompassing love that he’d received as a child. Had always had to fight for her parents’ attention. They’d never taken much interest in her achievements, wishes, or dreams, had always been lukewarm at best. As a result, she was a mass of insecurities, and desperate for approval. She’d pushed to take her relationship with Steven to the next level, and feeling pressured, he’d pulled back. Finn understood Steven’s position perfectly, but then again, he was a guy. Women saw things differently.

  Sorcha had felt rejected. Felt that someone, once again, didn’t really want her. So she’d picked someone who obviously did. Someone who would validate her desirability, however fleetingly.

  He’d told her if she wanted Steven’s love, first she had to learn to love herself. To treat herself with respect, and realize that the way to a man’s heart was not by being needy, but by being confident.

  He eyed the woman who sat silent in the car next to him. Val had tried to push him away more than once, and he just kept chasing until he caught her. But who had really caught whom?

  “We’re here.” He edged the car into a parking space outside his house, and turned off the engine.

  Val undid her seat belt. Her eyes met his.

  Cleopatra eyes.

  “Are you sure?” He didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to jinx things, but he had to give her one last chance to back out, if that was what she wanted.

  She didn’t speak for a long moment. Then a tentative smile tilted the corners of her mouth upwards. “Yes.”

  *****

  His palm was warm against hers as they walked up to the front door. Nerves fluttered in Val’s stomach. I haven’t been with anyone since… She pushed back the thought of her errant ex-husband, and breathed in deep.

  Finn closed the front door, and tossed his coat on to the chair next to the door.

  “Keep going.” She gripped the hem of his sweater, and edged it up.

  Finn’s slow, wicked grin heated her blood. Soundlessly, he took over, dragging the sweater over his head and tossing it on the floor, followed swiftly by his tee-shirt. “Bedroom?”

  “In a minute.” She was having way too much fun examining every inch of his muscled chest. “I’m busy.”

  “So I see.” His voice was laced with amusement. “And what exactly am I supposed to look at while you’re busy?”

  “Me.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Unzip me.”

  She didn’t have to turn around. With one hand, Finn expertly maneuvered the zipper down, and slipped the dress from her shoulders. His eyes darkened, drinking her in. “Wow.”

  She tried to step forward, got her heels tangled in the dress pooled at her feet and almost fell over. Luckily Finn clutched her waist before she hit the ground, and pulled her close.

  She listed like a tree in a hurricane, her chest against his, her dress tangled around her ankles. Smooth.

  “I knew the bedroom was a better idea.” Finn slipped his hand behind her knees, picking her up as if she weighed nothing. She kicked off the dress, losing a shoe in the process.

  He carried her into the bedroom, and sat on the enormous bed with Val in his arms.

  She twisted, shifting to straddle him, gasping as his erection brushed the silk of her underwear. Even through his jeans she could feel his arousal pressed hot and hard against her. His shoulders were warm beneath her palms, and she breathed in his scent as their mouths met. Any feeling of awkwardness at being so exposed was blasted away in the heat that engulfed her as he caressed her thighs, her bottom, and then her back.

  Someone groaned. Is that me? It must be.

  Through a haze of sensation, she felt her bra loosen, then slip from her shoulders.

  Finn tossed it aside, and brushed his palms over the tips of her sensitive breasts. She’d never considered herself a particularly sensual person—long before her marriage had fallen apart, she and Michael had stopped making love, but n
ow she couldn’t get enough of Finn’s touch. Her back arched, pressing herself into his hands, demanding more.

  He lowered his head to a nipple, engulfing it with the heat of his mouth and a flash of fireworks lit behind her closed eyelids. She reached between their bodies, trying to undo his fly. “This position…” Frustration was in her voice, as she pushed herself up. “I can’t.”

  In one motion, he transferred his attention to her other breast while simultaneously lifting her and flipping her onto her back on the bed. “Better?”

  “Better,” she agreed, reaching for him again.

  She couldn’t tear her eyes away as he shucked off his jeans. Felt liquid heat flood her at the sight of his arousal. He trailed a hand across her stomach, hooked a finger through the narrow side of her panties, and tugged.

  Her hips lifted from the bed, and she threw a leg over his, shivering in delight as he whispered in her ear, describing all the wicked things he wanted to do to her. She’d thought him hot before, but now, in this mood, he was more than hot—he was lethal.

  He nuzzled the soft skin of her neck as his hand slipped between her legs.

  Receiving was fun, but giving was too. Val freed him from his underwear, curling a hand around his length. “Impressive.” Her voice sounded husky.

  He laughed against her breast, which made her laugh too, in a sort of I’m-so-turned-on-I-can’t-see-straight way. His touch was driving her wild. She wanted, needed, him to stop trailing lazy fingers up her inner thigh, and instead to focus his attention where she needed it most. On her. In her.

  She wanted him. All of him. And she couldn’t wait. “Touch me.”

  Finn didn’t have to be asked twice. He moaned. “If we don’t slow down…”

  She showed him with her actions she didn’t want things slow, hooking her foot around his thigh and pressing her mouth to his shoulder. He tasted delicious.

  “Val—” He angled away, stretching to open the drawer of the bedside cabinet. He pulled out a small foil packet.

  She took it from him, ripped it open, and sheathed him. “Now.” She’d never been so direct, so demanding. It felt great. “I want you now. Slow’s overrated.”