Chapter 6 Chapter 6

Logan reached for the camera. 'Give me that.'

'No.' Alessia immediately shook her head, her determination unwavering. 'You can't confiscate it. It's private property.'

Logan's brow furrowed slightly, his patience wearing thin.

Faced with such a stubborn woman, he had no choice but to take matters into his own hands. 'Then I'll have to do it myself.'

In one swift motion, Logan reached for the camera hanging around Alessia's neck.

'Don't touch me!' Alessia swiftly pulled back, clutching the camera protectively to her chest.

Logan showed no intention of giving up.

He moved closer, but the woman squirmed and writhed and tried to twist herself into a human pretzel, keeping the camera firmly out of his reach.

Determinedly, he pinned her shoulder with one hand while his other hand made a grab for the camera.

But instead of the hard aluminium alloy of the camera, his fingers closed around something soft and round and.elastic.

He gave it a testing squeeze, then froze.

'Ahh!' Alessia screamed, a high-pitched noise that jolted Logan's mind back to the present.

She swatted away his offending hand. 'Pervert!'

Logan shrank aback, flustered.

He was about to apologise, but the young woman let out a string of words that were not exactly expletives, but came pretty close.

'It was an accident.' He scowled. 'And I don't appreciate that kind of language.'

'And I don't appreciate you putting your hands where they don't belong!' Alessia's face was flushed crimson.

'Like I said, it was an accident.'

'You even squeezed it!' Alessia folded her arms over her chest, eyes blazing.

Logan cleared his throat. 'I was just.checking something.'

'Checking what? Cup size?' Alessia wanted to smack him. 'Pervert!'

'I wasn't.' Logan struggled to put his thoughts into words, a rare occurrence for him.

But then, what he experienced just now was also a rare occurrence.

Not only was he not repulsed by this woman's scent or physical proximity, he felt rather compelled to get closer to her.

And when he accidentally touched her, it stirred something within him that he thought was long dead.

Olivia Anderson wasn't entirely off the mark when she said there must be something wrong with him.

There was, but he just didn't know exactly what it was.

His experience in the mornings told him there was nothing wrong with him physically.

So it had to be a psychological thing that prevented him from getting intimate with women.

But if it was all in his head, how could he feel 'excited' with this woman who was practically a stranger?

He didn't even know her name.

What was it about her that made her different?

Whatever it was, Logan was determined to get to the bottom of it.

'Step aside!' Alessia demanded. 'I don't want to be in the same room with a pervert.'

'Don't call me that,' Logan said. 'And you are not allowed to leave yet.'

He took another step forward.

Alessia retreated, but he kept advancing.

This went on until she had her back firmly pressed against the wall and nowhere to go.

'What are you doing?' Alessia glared at him.

'I just want to confirm something.' Logan was now her personal space.

'Don't come any closer!' Alessia shouted, red in the face. 'If you want the camera, take it! Just don't come any closer!'

'I don't want the camera. I want.'

You.

Before the last word left his lips, Logan hissed in pain.

Unarmed, Alessia used her fingernails as the only weapon at her disposal.

She scratched Logan's outstretched hand so hard, it drew blood.

'When you turned down Miss Anderson earlier, I thought you were a real gentleman.' Running out of space behind her, Alessia crab-walked to her left, trying to create some distance between her and Logan. 'But you are just a pervert, like all other men! No, you are worse. You are sick!'

Logan furrowed his brow, once again drawing closer to her.

'I said, don't come any closer!' Alessia made her right hand into the shape of a claw, ready to strike.

'Sorry.' Logan pursed his lips.

'Sorry doesn't make up for the fact that you tried to put your paws on me.'

'I said it was an accident.'

He had been aiming for the camera when he accidentally touched her.

Though Logan couldn't deny to himself that he, ahem, wanted to try it again.

Alessia's reply was an eye roll. 'Are you planning on keeping me here all night? It's called false imprisonment, you know.'

'Do you want the job at BuzzBeat?' Logan asked suddenly.

'Does a bear sh'-thinking of her five-year-old son, Alessia modified her language-'poop in the woods?'

Logan pondered for a moment before proposing, 'Stay with me tonight, and I'll arrange a better job for you. What do you think?'

Alessia's initial shock turned into anger as she realised the implications of Logan's proposal.

Was he taking her for a prostitute?

The nerve!

Alessia narrowed her eyes. 'Just spend the whole night with you? Is that what you're suggesting?'

Logan nodded.

He wanted to see if her effect on him was just temporary or permanent.

'What do I have to do?' Alessia asked, as if seriously considering his proposal. 'More importantly, what kind of job offer are we talking about here?'

'Whatever kind of offer, it sure beats that of a tabloid reporter.'

Logan was a little surprised by her unexpected acceptance of his offer.

Even though he was the one who initiated the idea, deep down, a tinge of disappointment lingered.

He lowered his gaze.

Of all the women he knew, why did his body only react to her?

When he was momentarily distracted, Alessia saw an opportunity.

Swiftly, she raised her leg, aiming for a man's most vulnerable region, hoping to give him a taste of her frustration.

But she'd forgotten about their height difference.

The tip of her shoe barely made contact with his mid-thigh, then Logan deftly dodged the kick.

Oops. She hadn't expected his reflexes to be so sharp.

Logan quickly seized hold of her wrist and demanded, 'What do you think you're doing?'

Frustration and fury mingled in Alessia's voice as she shot back, 'Damn it! I'm not a prostitute! Do you think money can buy any woman you want?'

'But you agreed,' Logan replied with a knitted brow.