“Can you help me a moment, Jeffery?” I yelled.

Straightening myself back on the seat, it hit me, would Logan might intervene yet again? Would he be that pigheaded?  I should have told Jeffery to throw him out but I didn’t have it in me. I just wanted to have the sweat washed from my back, was that too much to ask?

I closed my eyes and begged for a little luck. Please don’t let Logan come in, Please don’t let Logan come in, Please don’t let Logan come—.

The door opened, and when I peered over my shoulder, there he was—blocking the door.

“Get out!” I screamed, closing the curtain back all the way.

Jeffery was there on the other side of Logan, yet I couldn’t see him. I could only hear him explaining how he was going to call security. Logan stood firm, his hands on each side of the door frame, back to me.

Was this a joke?

“What do you need?” Logan asked, craning his neck back.

What do I need? Ha, where to start that list? Aside from you getting out of my room and leaving me to finish putting myself together?

I was tired and ready for bed, so with a loud, drawn-out sigh expressing my annoyance, I conceded and held the washcloth out, keeping my back to him and eyes glued on the tiled wall ahead of me.

“Sir, security is on their way up,” I heard Jeffery tell him.

My shoulders slumped forward.

“That’s not necessary, but thank you. Alright Logan, you want to help be my guest!.”

Logan shut the door, grumbling something under his breath to Jeffery.

“I need help washing my back.” I glanced over my shoulder with narrowed, threatening eyes. “If one single finger strays, I swear it will be gone!”

A single soft chuckle caught in his throat, and then I felt him move forward. His breath was on my skin, followed by the warm, soapy washcloth.

“Run the water down your back,” he said, his voice strained.

Was I affecting him? I highly doubted it. He’d seen more naked backs than most men I knew.

I held the sprayer up over my shoulder and pulled my hair out of the way. Logan started at my neck, his fingers kneading the cloth against my skin, wiping away more than just grime. I closed my eyes and relaxed into the gentle feeling of the cloth over my tender back as he moved over my shoulder blades, taking his time not to miss a single spot.

“Does it hurt?” he asked after a few moments of silence.

“No.”

It wasn’t a lie—it really didn’t hurt. I’d caught a little glimpse in the mirror the day before of the superficial scratches across my back from the impact of the pavement, but there was little pain. Although that could’ve had something to do with the painkillers I was on, the more I thought about it.

The cloth cleaned the base of my back, and I could’ve sworn I heard him release a ragged breath.

“Cassandra—”

“Don’t.”

Once the cloth was gone, Logan leaned over and turned the water off, then wrapped my robe around me. He didn’t speak a word and neither did I, but it didn’t matter. I was hurt and angry, and all I wanted to do was heal my body before my heart.

We needed the silence; without it, he’d reel me back in. I knew that now. There was no doubt that my body was still attracted to him. I’d stand no chance, and that wasn’t an option.

I swore right then as I stood from the shower seat, looking over at him, that I wouldn’t let him charm me again. My heart was off limits, and it was time to prove that I was strong enough to put myself back together.

Logan left the room, and I dressed in a clean gown and fresh panties from my small suitcase near the counter.

Logan was there to help me back to bed when I opened the door, dragging the IV pole behind me. Jeffery was standing in the doorway, and I wondered what Logan had said to him to put that look on his face.

I fixed a reassuring smile on my lips and watched him relax visibly.

“I’ll leave you alone now, but if you need anything at all, just buzz,” he said before leaving.

“Thank you,” I said, slightly miffed he’d allowed Logan to help me in the bathroom.

Once I was tucked back into bed, Logan handed me a glass of ice water as though he could read my mind. My throat was parched. I sipped while he sat back in his chair, where he remained until the end of visiting hours. I didn’t speak to him again, making it clear he was unwanted.

I hoped he’d leave me in peace and spare me the agony of enduring his beautiful eyes on me any longer. However, like before, he remained staring down at me thoughtfully the entire time until the nurse entered and informed him it was time to leave.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Cassandra. Sleep well,” he said, standing and walking to claim his coat.

“There’s no reason to come back. I’m done, Logan. You can’t change how I feel.”

He slipped his watch back on and unrolled his sleeves before pulling on his coat.

“Good night.”

That was all he said as he left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts and resolute commitment to keep myself as guarded a possible to protect myself from him, no matter what I had to do. I wouldn’t be that girl again.

The next morning, Logan was back by the time breakfast was served. He removed the cafeteria tray I’d been picking at and replaced it with a covered plate. He lifted the lid, revealing a beautiful omelet with all the fixings. Ignoring him, I dug in. It tasted as good as it looked.

Concentrating on the food, I smiled when I heard Logan leave the room. Was he really giving in? Taking the hint that he was wasting his time? If so, then why would he show up to begin with? I held little hope.

As I assumed, he hadn’t taken the hint. He was back less than a minute later, with a file box in his hands.

My brows knit together as he sat in the chair beside me and opened the lid. I watched, too curious to look away, when he set the box and lid on the floor and pulled out a stack of catalogs.

Was he really going to do some shopping here? I swallowed another bite, controlling the flurry of annoyance growing when he held up a Pottery Barn catalog and red marker, smiling.

“You don’t have to talk to me, but I thought you might want to fight off some of your boredom by helping me finish the details of Julia’s new place.”

Julia’s house—the house I bet him she would love and, if she did, he’d be my slave for a weekend. I grimaced at the thought of me being indebted to him.

“I was hoping to have it furnished by spring break and do the big reveal to her then,” he continued, setting the items at my side on the bed when I made no move to take them from his hands. “She still doesn’t know, and I’m sure you’ll want to make it look perfect…unless you’re calling off the bet?”

I wanted to say, “Yes—the bet is off, and you’re crazy,” and scream at him to get out of my room. But instead, I swallowed the bite of egg in my mouth and nodded. “A bet’s a bet.”

After breakfast, I scoured the catalogs diligently, circling the most lavish, expensive items I found—ones I knew she’d love, but would impact Logan’s bank account the most. The Restoration Hardware catalog was just the ticket for that.

It was in his hands, and I watched as he sat back in the chair, leg rested over his knee, flipping through pages. He circled something, then dog-eared a page. My attention was piqued—he’d been going through the same book for over an hour, and only pulled the marker from his ear a total of five times to note of something he liked.