Homecoming: The Billionaire Brothers (11 page)

But … Logan needed this. He needed to rest, and he also needed a puzzle to solve, something to keep his brain just stimulated enough without overloading his system.

“So. What do you say?” He crossed his arms over his chest, drawing her gaze to the play of muscles under his T-shirt. For a guy who rarely took time off to hit the gym, Logan was ridiculously ripped. Must be all the heavy machinery he lifted in his lab, building his prototypes.

Tilting up her chin, Jessica planted her feet and mirrored his stance. “One question per day—and in that day, you eat what I tell you to, sleep when I tell you to, and in all other ways follow my instructions to rebuild your strength, or that day’s question is revoked.”

Those wickedly arched brows quirked up, and she knew she’d surprised him. Good. She was surprising herself, too. But this was a chance she had to take. If she could get him to listen to her, the way he rarely did back in New York … if she could get him to let her in enough to help him …

“You’re actually agreeing,” he said, wonder lightening his voice.

“I promised your brother I’d take care of this situation.”
Take care of you,
Jessica added silently. “You know me. I do whatever it takes to get the job done. Sir.”

His reflexive frown at the honorific lifted Jessica’s sprits. She could do this. She could bare a bit of her soul and her past to keep Logan on the island long enough to heal, without forgetting the essential truth.

Logan Harrington was her job. Nothing more, nothing less. And if anyone knew the dangers of mixing business and pleasure, it was Jessica Bell.

Chapter Two

When Logan agreed to Jessica’s terms, he hadn’t counted on his old pal, insomnia, showing up to make it impossible to keep his word about sleeping on command.

But here he was, staring up at the sloping ceiling above the loft bed, eyes dry and burning and sleep nowhere on the horizon. The silence of the empty cottage pressed in on him like a weight. And his preferred methods for shutting off his brain long enough to get to sleep—sex and alcohol—were unavailable for the moment.

Frustration at his inability to conquer his own body, to simply give in and let sleep knock him unconscious, seethed through his veins like an unscratchable itch. To distract himself, he considered the most enticing dilemma he’d faced in quite some time.

What question should he ask of the elusive, mysterious, impenetrably professional Jessica Bell?

He considered what he knew of her already. Over the years since she first appeared in his lab and laughed at him when he ordered her to stop tidying and get out, Logan had discovered shockingly little about what made his personal assistant tick—other than her dedication to efficiency and competence.

In fact, he barely knew more than he’d gleaned from hacking into the Human Resources department’s secure servers and reading her résumé.

Jessica Anne Bell, twenty-eight years old, bachelor’s degree in communications from Illinois State, previous work experience as the personal assistant to the CEO of a chain of luxury boutique hotels.

Then there were the details he’d observed over time: long naturally red hair with a slight wave to it, green eyes in a fair-skinned, oval face. High, clear forehead, straight nose, pink mouth shaped for smiling. His gaze frequently caught on her pert chin with the tiny indentation in the center—a genetic trait inherited from one or both of her parents.

Which was the sum total of what he knew about her family. He didn’t even know where she’d grown up—her deliberate, thoughtful speech patterns contained no discernible accent.

Jessica didn’t cake on the makeup like some women Logan knew, but she wasn’t a bare-faced natural girl, either. She favored classic, sophisticated fashion, preferring to fill her wardrobe with little black dresses and well-fitted pantsuits in jewel tones rather than chasing the latest trend, and since she was tall and slender as a model, everything looked good on her.

It was possible Logan had devoted quite a bit of time to gathering information on his assistant.

Only because she’s a mystery,
he consoled himself as he laced his fingers together behind his head.
She’s the one puzzle I haven’t been able to solve. And once I get the answers to some burning questions, I’ll never be distracted by her again.

Downstairs, the cottage door swung open, letting in the scent of roses on the warm evening breeze. Jessica was back from her exploration of the island, and from the rustle of plastic bags, Logan surmised she’d also stopped in to whatever quaint general store this island boasted, to secure provisions.

He tracked her progress from the cottage door, across the bare hardwood floor of the miniscule living room to set the grocery bags down on the kitchenette’s tiny table. She spent some time unloading whatever she’d bought, cupboards opening and closing, the refrigerator making a soft whir as it clicked on. It was oddly relaxing. Logan felt his muscles soften against the mattress as some unnamed tension flowed out of him.

Until he heard the light click of Jessica’s heels on the stepladder leading up to the loft above the living room, where Logan was supposed to be sleeping.

Before her head cleared the top of the ladder, he’d turned onto his side and shut his eyes, evening out his breathing into a slow, deep rhythm. Jessica paused for long enough to get Logan’s heart pounding with the possibility that she’d call him out for faking it and refuse to answer a question later.

But finally, he heard the soft tread of her retreat down the stepladder, followed by the quiet snick of the downstairs bedroom door closing. Excellent, he’d fooled her. Smiling to himself, Logan settled in to wait a reasonable amount of time before coming back downstairs to demand his daily Q & A session.

The next time he opened his eyes, bright morning sunlight suffused the loft, along with the smell of fresh-brewed coffee.

Hauling himself up off the mattress was surprisingly difficult. He’d slept straight through the night for the first time in he didn’t even know how long, but he didn’t feel nearly as rested as he would have hoped. Instead, his body ached as if it had been tied in place for the past nine hours, his limbs weighted down with stones.

He managed to get down the stepladder without falling and breaking his neck, but it wasn’t easy. When he finally felt the cold hardwood floor under his bare feet, he exhaled a grateful sigh.

“I told you I should be the one sleeping up there.” Jessica’s no-nonsense voice from behind him sent a pleasant shiver up Logan’s spine.

“Tonight,” she declared, “we’re switching. You can take the bedroom, I’ll take the loft.”

Logan shrugged, not wanting to start the day with an argument. He’d be sleeping in that loft, though. Just because he hadn’t reliably slept through the night since his parents died, that didn’t make Logan a child to be coddled and ordered around.

Dropping into the nearest kitchen chair, Logan dredged up a winning smile. “You made coffee. That’s why you’re my favorite, Tink.”

“I’m your favorite because your brother pays me well to make sure your needs are met,” Jessica corrected absently. Most of her attention was focused on the frowning scrutiny of Logan’s face.

He rubbed a hand over his whiskery jaw, hiding a wince at the thought of how rough he probably looked. Meanwhile, he realized sourly, Jessica was pressed, perky perfection in her fitted cobalt-blue fleece sweatshirt and a pair of black spandex workout pants.

Hoping to induce her to turn around so he could get a peek at the hind view, Logan picked up the coffee cup set out with the plates and silverware in the center of the table. He waggled it beseechingly, making his best puppy dog eyes.

But instead of filling the mug with the sweet nectar of life while bending over the kitchen counter in those tight black pants, Jessica said, “You actually slept last night. I checked on you.”

“Yeah, so?” It wasn’t a lie, Logan reasoned, since he had actually dropped off.

“So why don’t you seem refreshed and rested?”

Logan shrugged. “When I go through long periods of having trouble sleeping, I kind of acclimate to not sleeping. Then when I do finally manage a full night, my body doesn’t know how to handle it. I wind up groggy, still tired.”

“That’s awful! Is that normal?” Worry created an adorable crease between her brows. It probably didn’t say anything great about him that he loved that look on her face.

“Might not be normal, but normal is boring.” Logan shrugged. “Anyway, it’s been happening since I was a teenager. It used to bother me, but I’ve lived through it every other time. I’ll live through it this time, and next time, too. No need to call out the National Guard.”

Jessica whirled, finally giving him a view of her delectable backside, but she didn’t move to grab the coffeepot. Instead, she filled a teakettle with water, set it on the four-burner range and turned up the heat under it.

Logan cocked his head, intrigued. “You’re having tea? You always drink coffee.”

She gave him a strange look. “No, you’re having tea. Herbal, in fact.”

He snorted. “The hell I am.”

Jessica ignored him, the way she always did when she’d made up her mind to drive him completely insane. “Until I research the do’s and don’ts of chronic insomnia, you’re not having any caffeine.”

Dismay turned his voice into a low growl. “Now wait a damned minute.”

Twirling to face him, Jessica braced her hands on the counter behind her. “You agreed to follow my instructions regarding your health,” she said tensely, eyes flashing. “Are you going back on our deal already, over something as small as a cup of coffee?”

That shut Logan up for a second, long enough to weigh the cost-to-benefit ratio of pushing this. Yeah, he loved his morning espresso, but did he want it more than he wanted to know Jessica’s secrets?

“Fine,” he snarled, slamming away from the table. Hey, nothing in the deal said he had to be a good sport about any of this. “But I’m not drinking tea. Tea is just water boiled with sticks and leaves. I’d rather drink out of the toilet.”

“If that’s what you prefer, be my guest,” Jessica said calmly. “Just so long as it’s not caffeinated toilet water.”

Damn it, now he was biting down on a grin. She was uncomfortably good at shaking his bad moods loose. “Got it. So what else are you prescribing for me today, Nurse Jessica?”

Her green eyes took on a glittery sheen of satisfaction. “A healthy breakfast. Do you think you can deal?”

Logan nodded. “Speaking of deals, I think we should count yesterday as the first day of our agreement. In which I held up my end of the bargain by sleeping straight through the night—and that means you owe me.”

Pausing in the act of opening a carton of eggs, Jessica swallowed audibly. Staring down at the fragile white shells, she said, “Fine, but you’re coming with me for a walk around the island. You can ask your question while we get a little light exercise.”

Logan was so cheered by the prospect of delving into the locked box of Jessica’s past, he didn’t even want to argue about the exercise. “Sounds great. I assume you packed me a pair of sneakers.”

He only said it to elicit his favorite Jessica look—the single arched brow and silent lip curl that carried a strong subtext of
bitch, please.

“Obviously,” she muttered, turning back to the stove.

Oh yes, the cracks are already starting to show,
Logan mused, almost whistling as he sauntered through the cottage in search of his packing case. The unflappable Jessica Bell was more than a little flapped.

Curiosity, the burning fire that guided Logan’s life, the best distraction and comfort he’d ever found, crested in his chest. When he finally got to peer behind the opaque curtain of Jessica’s professional distance, what would he find?

And the question of why he cared so much, why Jessica stirred his insatiable curiosity in a way no other woman ever had? Well. That was easy enough to ignore.

Chapter Three

Jessica’s brain obsessively ticked over the list of information she’d compiled about sleep disorders. The instant she had breakfast under control, she started Googling like a madwoman. There was far less research available than she would have expected for such a basic human need, but Jessica was confident in her problem-solving skills. She was determined to figure this out.

She made a mental note to look into whether trauma affected sleep patterns. He’d said he first started experiencing insomnia as a teenager—was that around the time of Phillip and Marilyn Harrington’s tragic car accident?

The resignation in every weary line of Logan’s face as he’d revealed the extent of his insomnia had torn at Jessica’s heart. More than anything, she wanted to be able to promise him that he didn’t have to live like that, in a constant cycle of exhaustion and frustration. She had more research to do, but she was cautiously optimistic enough to make up for the niggling worry over the question Logan was about to pose.

Glancing down at the route she’d mapped on her smartphone, Jessica said, “Turn left up ahead, at … yes, at Main Street.”

“Of freaking course, this place has a Main Street. And my grandparents’ house is on what, Island Road? Very creative, this town’s founders were.”

Normally Jessica, a New Yorker by choice if not by birth, would wholeheartedly join in the sophisticated eye rolling at small-town cutesiness. But as they skirted the lush green lawn of the town square and shared friendly greetings with an elderly couple walking a tiny poodle, Jessica couldn’t find it in herself to look down her nose at Sanctuary Island.

“You’d prefer something more fanciful?” She blinked at him innocently. “I would have thought you’d like the simple directness of Island Road.”

“I prefer my avenues numbered, orderly and logical, thank you very much.” Logan tucked his hands in the pockets of the brand new track pants Jessica had bought him, sharp gaze taking in every detail of their surroundings.

He sauntered down the sidewalk, broad shoulders brushing hers on every other step. It was another glorious summer day, early enough to be warm rather than hot, and the constant gentle breeze cut the humidity nicely. Logan tipped his head back as they walked, and Jessica caught her breath silently as an expression she’d never seen crossed his handsome face.