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CHAPTER ONE
Logan dabbed his lipswith his white linen napkin and placed it on the table beside his plate. The silverware was already discarded to the side, showing he’d finished his meal. The meal put on by his cousin Daniel in the luxurious dining room of his Fifth Ave penthouse.
Daniel’s chef was incredible. The simple chicken orzo, with fresh green vegetables and warm dinner rolls, had been cooked to perfection. Logan was a bit of a foodie so appreciated culinary delights when he tasted them.
He lifted his eyes and immediately navigated to the sexy brunette further down the table.
Emma.
Romance author and friend of Harper’s, who was Daniel’s wife. A mouthful, ironically, as he was keen to get his mouth on Emma. At least, the space between her legs.
Crass? Probably. But he wasn’t sorry at all.
Though he should have been.
He was in New York City for his grandmother’s funeral, not some boy’s weekend.
A boy?
Hardly.
Logan stood at six foot three and was wide across the shoulders. He spent enough time in his home gym that his muscular physique was obvious, even under his business shirts—and gave them a run for their money.
Good money, as he had them purchased for him from the likes of Tom Ford and Armani.
Logan was also thirty-four and the eldest of the Dufort cousins. His brother, Aiden, was thirty-one and his sister, Amelia, twenty-eight.
Daniel, his eldest cousin, had been born just after Aiden, and Logan wasn’t sure of the exact ages of Fletcher and Hunter because their parents had become estranged at that point.
He knew why.
Logan just wasn’t sure if his cousins did.
As a businessman, Logan could’ve reached out years ago, despite their fathers’ broken relationship, but it also included his grandmother. He’d been close enough to her that it wasn’t worth creating any animosity.
And life sort of happened.
University. Buying a house. Getting married.
And now, fucking divorced.
“So, the funeral is tomorrow.” Daniel mirrored Logan’s actions with the napkin.
“It’s at eleven. I got your secretary to put it in your calendar,” Harper said. “Are you sure you don’t mind me not going? I can, if you want.”
Logan watched Emma lift the last piece of her chicken to her lips. They parted, and as her tongue reached out, her lips closing around her fork, her eyes met his.
He didn’t look away.
Logan wanted her to know he was interested in fucking her.
It was what he did.
Heat warmed her cheeks, and she froze slightly, her eyes flaring wide before she glanced down.
Logan’s lips twitched and threatened to lift into a smile, something he didn’t do very often these days.
Because of the divorce, yes, but it was more complicated than that.
