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“She’s defied the odds so far, but I can’t see how. There’s always a slight heart rate elevation when I bring Rhia to visit her, so we think she has some awareness, but who the fuck knows?”
A heavy silence fell between them, and it was Hannah’s turn to sigh.
“Sorry, I promised you a night of fun, and you get all this.”
Hannah offered him a wobbly smile.
“It was fun, and this isn’t your fault. It really isn’t.” When he didn’t answer her, just ran his injured hand through his hair and grimaced as though he was in pain, Hannah rolled her eyes. The ice in the champagne bucket had melted, but this was the Savoy. Aware of his quietly watching her, she marched over to the phone and pressed the button for reception.
“Yes, hello, I’m ringing from Logan Bryce’s suite. Could you please bring up some more ice, urgently? Oh, and a clean hand towel? I know it’s the middle of the night, but…”
A polite laugh came down the phone line.
“That isn’t a problem at all, madam. Anything else we can help you with?”
Oh, to heck with it. In for a penny in for a pound and all that.
“Actually, yes there is. Could someone purchase some jeans and a plain t-shirt for me when the shops are open, please. Size 14, petite lengths in the jeans.” She threw Logan a glance, somewhat embarrassed at having to say her size in front of him, but the man had explored every inch of her already. He knew full well she wasn’t a stick insect model type, and he seemed to like her body well enough. Sure enough, his gaze grew heated as he ran it slowly over her body, and Hannah ended the phone call rather more breathlessly than when she started it.
“I’ll pay for the clothes of course.”
Logan shook his head.
“Not a chance. The state of your dress is my fault, after all.”
Hannah wanted to argue, but the knock on the door stopped her. Logan strolled across to open it and then stepped aside to let the tired looking bellboy push in the trolley containing a large bucket of ice and several folded hand towels.
“Just leave it there, thank you.” Logan walked over to the chair which held his tuxedo jacket, pulled out his wallet, and handed the youngster a bill.
“For your time.”
“Thank you, sir.” The young man who couldn’t be a day over eighteen, bowed, glanced at Hannah, blushed, and hightailed it out the room.
Logan’s amused laughter washed over her, as she stepped up and wrapped a generous handful of ice in one of the towels.
“I do believe the poor lad didn’t know where to look, not that I can blame him. You look hot in that shirt … ouch.”
Hannah slapped the ice on his hand with much more force than was necessary, and grinned up at him when he glared at her.
“You are full of shite, Logan Bryce. Now hold still and let the ice take down the swelling.”
Logan grumbled something and tugged her hair behind her ear with his uninjured hand.
“And you, sweet little Hannah, have a decidedly bossy streak.”
“And don’t you forget it.”
Chapter Five
A much more comfortable silence fell between them, while Hannah fussed over his hand. The woman constantly amazed him. He would have expected her to hightail it out of the suite the minute Rhia had been asleep, yet here she was taking care of him.
She wasn’t stupid or reckless, so he could only assume that she deemed him not to be threat. His hopeful mood evaporated like mist on a summer’s morning, when she pulled his hand under the light of the side lamp to presumably see it better.
“There, that’s better. The swelling has gone a down a lot. You might just be able to use that properly tomorrow. Seriously, don’t go around bashing walls. It’s not good for your health.”
He could hear the teasing note in her voice, and sure enough she was smiling when she looked up at him, a smile that faltered as she took in his expression.
Logan turned her hand over and locked his jaw as the extent of her bruising became visible under the light. He traced his thumb over that digit’s imprint left behind in her pale skin, and shook his head.
