Linda Warren - Straight from the Heart

No! She sat up and tried to dismiss the possibility, but she couldn’t. Maybe she was attracted to Lucas—and maybe that was why she was always pouncing on him. Maybe that was why he made her so angry. No. She shook her head vehemently. It couldn’t be.

She lay down and tried to come to grips with her contradictory reactions. She didn’t know how to do that, but she owed Lucas an apology for her behavior—of that she was sure. He’d been nothing but pleasant, and she had literally come unglued. That wasn’t Lucas’s fault; that was hers.

All these years, she’d been trying to bridge the gap between her father and her brother—not understanding that there was also a gap between her father and her. That had become clear tonight when she’d reacted so violently to Lucas’s presence. He was right; she had been waiting for Sam Logan’s approval.

She groaned into her pillow, thinking this was a little too much soul-searching. Life was becoming too complicated, too fast, and all she wanted to do was sleep.

She heard a noise outside the living room window and immediately sat up, her heart in her throat. Then she relaxed as she realized it was only the wind. She lived in a gated apartment complex, so there was no way anyone could get in without her knowing it. Still, she felt uneasy. She went into the bedroom and got her purse. Pulling out the small pistol, she carried it into the living room. She placed it on the end table within easy reach. If anyone had told her years ago that a gun would make her feel more secure, she would have laughed. But the gun gave her the extra bit of reassurance she needed to face her fears. No one was going to attack her again.

As she drifted off to sleep, her last thoughts were of Lucas. Tomorrow she’d apologize for her rudeness. Knowing Lucas, he’d accept and they’d go back to battling it out in court. Polite adversaries—that was all they could ever be.

LUCAS WOKE UP with a frown on his face—and the urge to strangle Blair Logan still on his mind. He was finished with apologizing to that woman and he was certainly finished with making excuses to her. As far as he was concerned, Blair could go to hell.

Running both hands over his face, he stumbled out of bed in his black briefs and headed for the kitchen. The strong smell of coffee pulled him forward. Thank God he used a cleaning service. He paid the woman extra to make his coffee. The coffeepot had a timer and coffee was ready at precisely six o’clock every morning. He wasn’t human until he’d had his first cup.

He poured a mug full, letting the aroma tantalize his nostrils. He picked up the mug and returned to the bedroom. Sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard, he sipped at the black magic. Oh, yeah… After a moment, he tipped his head back, feeling his brain slowly come alive. Now he could face the day.

But the day wasn’t on his mind; last night was—and Blair. After leaving her family’s home, he’d driven around for a while, then planned to see Jennifer. He had thought he’d salvage something of the night. But he kept seeing Blair’s wounded face. He had hurt her, unintentionally, but still he’d been the cause of her pain. He didn’t like that. It left a bitter taste in his mouth and he had no desire to be with Jennifer or any other woman. So he drove home, determined to put the evening and Blair behind him.

But his first thoughts this morning were of her. “Damn you, Blair Logan, stay out of my head,” he shouted to the room. He got up, coffee in hand, and walked into the bathroom. He set the mug on the vanity as he stared at himself in the mirror. His dark hair was tousled across his forehead and he had a growth of dark beard. He drew one hand over the stubble and did a double take. He raked his hair back to look more closely at his temples. Gray hair! His hair was turning gray. Damn, when did that happen?

The absurdity of it hit him and he started to laugh. What the hell did he care if he had gray hair? But he was getting older, and he wasn’t any closer to settling down than he’d been ten years ago. That was what bothered him. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his life alone.

He left the bathroom, opened a drawer and pulled out a tank top and jogging shorts. He slipped into them, then hurried toward the front door. He ran two miles every morning, and he was going to run until all his frustrations were gone. Then he’d call Jennifer, apologize again, and tonight he’d deal with the rest of his frustrations. Assuming Jennifer was willing to help, of course… That was his plan, anyway.

And Blair? Well, Blair had her own problems and he didn’t want any part of them. It would probably take a team of psychiatrists to sort out her issues with her father. He stopped with his hand on the doorknob. Hell, that was one thing he and Blair had in common—he had issues with his father, too. They actually had something to talk about. He shook his head, ridding himself of that idea. He wasn’t talking to Blair. He wasn’t doing anything with Blair except forget he’d ever met her.

Dammit, Blair, stay out of my head.

WHEN BLAIR GOT to her office, she knew something was wrong. People were rushing through the corridors, phones were ringing and everyone was ignoring her.

“April.” She interrupted Evan’s secretary. “What’s going on?”

“I can’t talk now. I’ve got a million things to do,” she said nervously as she hurried off.

Must be some major new case, Blair thought, entering her office. She’d find out later. She put her heavy briefcase on the desk and sat down to study her calendar. Her parents hadn’t called this morning; neither had Blake. That was strange. She’d expected them to phone just to find out how she was. Especially Blake—she’d expected to find him on her doorstep. Maybe they were still upset with her for ruining the party and making a fool of herself. But most of all, she’d driven Lucas away. Her father wasn’t going to forgive her so easily for that.

She sighed; she’d call Lucas later today and try to make amends. It didn’t matter to her if he worked for Logan and Associates. She wasn’t sure why it had bothered her so much last night. Well, actually, she did know. So many things had happened yesterday, and Lucas had been the final straw, so to speak. Today her head was clear, so she could deal with Raye, Lucas and anything else.

There was a tap at the door and April poked her head around. “Evan wants to see you immediately.”

“I’ll be right there,” Blair responded, figuring that now she’d find out what was going on.

When she made her way to Evan’s office, she discovered that the room was full—every A.D.A. seemed to be present and Blair knew that something important was taking place.

“Ah, Blair,” Evan said when he saw her. “Come in.”

She smiled at the other A.D.A.s, but everyone avoided looking at her. Evan nodded and they filed out of the room.

“Have a seat,” Evan invited.

Blair sat down and glanced at the door. “Why’s everyone so…tense?”

“How are you?” he asked, ignoring her question.

She knew he must be talking about the message on her windshield. “I’m okay. They’re still checking out my car.”

“I’ll see that Roger stays on it. I won’t have my A.D.A.s threatened.”

“Thanks, Evan.”

There was a moment’s silence, then Evan asked, “Have you spoken to your father this morning?”

Blair gave him a puzzled look. “No. Why?”

Evan folded his hands across his desk. “I’ve got something to tell you and I’m not sure how to start.”

Blair laughed slightly. “That’s not true. You always know what you’re going to say before you say it.”

“This is a rather delicate situation.”

That made Blair nervous. This “delicate” situation obviously involved her father. She had no idea what it could possibly be, so she waited, knowing Evan would find the words eventually.