The Real Thing Page 3

  She opened the door a crack, listening to see if Logan had come back, but she didn’t hear anything except the sound of the fire crackling. Slinging her over her shoulder, she made a beeline for the front door.

  It swung open just as she got there. Logan looked as stunned to see her as she was to see him. He recovered first, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. She brushed past him.

  “Where the hell are you going?”

  She swung open the door, then she turned to look at him. If it had been a scene in a movie, the effect would have been dramatic, but all it did was let in a gust of frigid cold air that made her shiver.

  “I’m leaving.”

  He snorted. “I’m not taking you anywhere until this snow stops.”

  She lifted her chin. “I’ll walk.”

  He looked at her incredulously. “Are you insane? The nearest town is sixty miles away.”

  Her hand tightened on the doorknob. “I don’t care. I’d rather walk sixty miles in a blizzard than stay here with you five more minutes.”

  Raine stepped out onto the front porch and slammed the door behind her. Almost immediately, she regretted her decision. It was snowing even harder than it had been the night before, and the clothes she had on didn’t offer any more protection than her silky dress. She couldn’t go back inside after such a dramatic exit, though. Not unless she wanted to put up with Logan’s snide comments.

  Knowing she was all kinds of foolish for even thinking about trudging sixty miles in a snowstorm, Raine hiked her bag up higher on her shoulder and started walking.

  Logan stared at the door in disbelief. No one in their right mind would go out in a snowstorm like this. The little fool was going to freeze to death. But if she was stupid enough to try to walk sixty miles in a blizzard when there was a perfectly warm cabin right here, she deserved to freeze. Which was unlikely, of course. She’d be back in five minutes. Hell, she probably wouldn’t even make it to the end of the driveway before she turned around.

  He shrugged out of his coat and hung it on the peg beside the door. The idiot woman was going out in a blizzard wearing jeans and a sweater because he’d spanked her last night. Okay, so maybe he’d overreacted a little by putting her over his knee. But she’d deserved it. People in Hollywood might put up with her crap, but there was no way he was going to stand for it. Even if she threw a tantrum by going out in the snow.

  He went into the kitchen to see if the coffee he put on before he’d gone outside earlier was done. It wasn’t. He leaned back against the counter while it finished brewing, then poured some into a mug and sipped it while he waited for Raine to come through the door. The silly woman probably didn’t even know which direction the town was, even if she could walk sixty miles. She’d be back any minute now.

  But five minutes turned into ten, then fifteen, and Raine still hadn’t come back. Of its own accord, his gaze went to the unused mug he’d set out for her before going outside, and his hand tightened around his own cup. Dammit to hell.

  Thumping the mug down on the counter, he strode into the living room and grabbed his coat. He put it on, then jerked open the door, praying she was outside on the porch pouting. But Raine’s slim figure was nowhere in sight. She obviously walked a hell of a lot faster than he’d given her credit for. Swearing under his breath, he jogged over to his SUV. He only hoped to God she wasn’t dumb enough to stray from the road, or he’d never find her.

  Leaving Logan’s cabin had been a really, really stupid idea. Raine had never been so cold in her life. Not only was there the falling snow and the biting wind to contend with, but there were also the drifts, which were up to her knees in some places. She’d freeze before she made it ten more feet. And it would be Logan McBride’s fault.

  She swore as she struggled through the deep snow. If that Cro-Magnon had taken her to the spa like she’d asked him to, none of this would have happened. She’d be getting a massage right now. But no, he had to take her to that shack he called a cabin. And if he hadn’t acted like a damn caveman and spanked her simply because she’d told the truth about a few things, she never would have left. Instead, she’d be sitting on the couch in front of the fire, curled up with her eReader and a mug of hot chocolate. Damn him!

  She ducked her head and blinked back tears as a gust of wind almost knocked her off her feet. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a silver Denali slow alongside her. Fighting the urge to run over to the truck, she lifted her chin and determinedly continued on her way, refusing to acknowledge Logan’s presence. There was no way she was going back to that cabin with him.

  He reached across and opened the passenger door. Her resolve weakened a little as she felt a blast of warm air hit her.

  She slowed her steps. Sixty miles was a long walk. It was even longer when you couldn’t feel your feet. By coming to get her, Logan was all but admitting he’d been wrong. It could even be construed as an apology. Maybe she wouldn’t report him to the cops for assault after all.

  Raine came to a halt.

  The SUV stopped, too. She climbed in without a word. Ignoring the handsome man beside her, she put on her seat belt, then sat there huddled in the seat as she tried to keep from shivering. She wasn’t going to give Logan the satisfaction of knowing how cold she was.

  She waited for him to tell her how stupid it’d been to leave in the middle of a snowstorm, but he was silent as he turned the truck around and drove back to the cabin. His tightlipped expression told her everything she needed to know. He was pissed he’d had to come get her. She supposed she couldn’t blame him.

  There was no way she’d ever admit it, but it had been dumb as hell to think she could walk sixty miles in a snowstorm. If Logan hadn’t come after her, she probably wouldn’t have made it ten more minutes before succumbing to hypothermia. She knew she should thank him, but her pride wouldn’t let her.

  When they got back to the cabin, Logan came around to open the passenger door for her, then grabbed her bag.

  “Get out of those wet clothes and into the shower while I make you something hot to drink,” he ordered after they got inside.

  Raine didn’t argue. Her jeans were soaked. Unfortunately, she hadn’t brought any other clothes with her, except for the dress she’d worn yesterday. Which left the tank top and shorts she’d slept in the night before.

  With a sigh, she picked up her bag and went into the bathroom to shower and change. When she came out, Logan was waiting for her in the living room. His gaze lingered on her bare legs before he cleared his throat and held out the mug in his hand. In his other hand was a bowl with a spoon sticking out of it.

  “I made you cocoa and some oatmeal. Wrap yourself in a blanket and sit in front of the fire. That should get you warmed up.”

  Her fingers brushed Logan’s as she took the mug, and the contact sent a surprising little tingle through her. Hoping to hide her shock, she sipped the hot liquid hastily. It burned her tongue, but she barely noticed. By the time she lifted her head to thank him, he’d set the bowl down and gone into his studio, closing the door. She sat on the couch and wrapped the blanket around her.

  The combination of the roaring fire, mug of cocoa and bowl of oatmeal worked wonders, and within ten minutes her brush with hypothermia was a distant memory. She wiggled her toes under the blanket, relieved she could actually feel them again. She rested her head back on the couch and closed her eyes. If she didn’t know better, she’d think she was at that fancy, expensive spa in Mountain Ridge. While the cabin didn’t have any of the amenities the spa had, it had the privacy she wanted, if not the company. But if she and Logan stayed out of each other’s way, they should be able to make it through the snowstorm without killing one another.

  She set her mug on the coffee table and dug in her bag for her eReader, eager to get back to the romance novel she’d been reading. She was so immersed in the drama between the hero and heroine she didn’t realize it was mid-afternoon until her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten anythin
g but that small bowl of oatmeal.

  Setting her eReader on the table, she unfolded herself from the couch and stretched her arms over her head. Of its own accord, her gaze strayed to the door of Logan’s studio. Except for the time he’d come out to put more wood on the fire, he’d been in there all day.

  She picked up her empty mug and walked into the kitchen. Filling a small pot with water, she set it on the stove to heat, then opened a packet of cocoa and dumped the powder into her mug. While she waited for the water to boil, her gaze went to the door of Logan’s studio again. On impulse, she took a clean mug from the cabinet and emptied a second packet of cocoa into it. Hoping there was something to eat in the cabin other than beef stew and tuna fish, she opened the cabinet closest to her and was relieved to see a box of cookies. Quickly stirring hot water into the mugs, she tucked the box of cookies under an arm and headed for Logan’s studio.

  She knocked, then walked in without waiting for an answer. Logan was hunched over a table, a paintbrush in his hand, and he looked up with a frown.

  Raine gave him a small smile. “I got hungry and I thought you might be, too.”

  She set his mug down on the table and took the box of cookies out from under her arm. It was as close to a thank you as he was going to get for coming out to get her.

  Logan hesitated, then picked up the mug and took a sip. “Thanks.”

  She opened the box of cookies and took out two, then handed one to him. She nibbled on hers as she studied the watercolor painting he was working on. It was a snow scene with a wintry sky and a stream that was partially frozen. In the foreground, there was a rabbit, his ears perked as if listening.

  “This is really good,” she said.

  His eyes narrowed. “You sound surprised.”

  “I am.” She gave him a sheepish look. “When you told me you were an artist, I had a hard time picturing it, but you’re very talented.”

  Raine looked around the room. There was an easel by the window, and another off to the side, as well as several blank canvases leaning up against the wall.

  “Do you only paint in watercolor?”

  “Oils mostly. I just started using watercolor.”

  You’d never know it. The painting he was working on was beautiful. “But you only paint landscapes, right?”

  “And wildlife.”

  “Do you show in a gallery?”

  “Up in Seattle.”

  She nodded. Maybe she’d stop by next time she was in the area and check out the rest of his stuff. It wasn’t the type of artwork she hung on the wall, but her parents would love one of his paintings. She hadn’t sent a peace offering in a while, and since they weren’t going to get those grandchildren they wanted from her marriage to Cameron, an expensive original by a talented artist would have to do.

  “I saw a package of noodles in the cabinet,” she said. “I thought I’d throw them together with that can of tuna and make a casserole for dinner, if that’s all right.”

  Logan looked surprised. What, did he think she couldn’t cook because she made movies for a living? Admittedly, she didn’t do it often, but she knew her way around the kitchen when she had to. Besides, if she didn’t take the initiative and make something for dinner, they’d end up having beef stew again.

  “That sounds good,” he said.

  “I’ll let you get back to work.”

  Giving him a smile, she grabbed two cookies from the package, then turned and left the room.

  Damn. Had he and the Diva actually had a civilized conversation? Maybe he and Raine could survive being cooped up together after all. As long as he spent most of his time in his studio and she didn’t, they’d get along just fine.

  Logan set down the mug of cocoa and picked up his paintbrush, then dipped it in the jar of water on the table. Wiping off the excess water so the brush wouldn’t be too wet, he loaded the soft bristles with color, but instead of focusing on painting, his gaze went to the door.

  Raine had left it ajar, and through the opening he could see her curled up on the couch, reading. She hadn’t pulled the blanket around her, and from where he was standing, he had a perfect view of her long, shapely legs left bare by the skimpy shorts. He could just make out the slight curve of her ass, too. The sight of all that satin skin was almost hypnotizing. He swore under his breath as he felt his groin tighten.

  For a self-centered brat who irritated the hell out of him, she was damn hot. And her ass was just about as perfect as you could get. Something he’d noticed while he’d been spanking her. He’d just been too pissed off to appreciate it. That was one derriere he wouldn’t mind spanking for fun—which, up until last night, was the only reason he’d ever spanked a woman. Raine didn’t seem like the type who’d go for it, though. Too bad.

  Ignoring his now rock-hard cock, he put some more paint on his brush and turned his attention back to the painting he was working on. While it didn’t completely keep him from thinking about Raine and her gorgeous ass, it managed to distract him. At least until she came back into his studio a few hours later. One look at those long legs and his erection was back.

  “Dinner’s ready whenever you are,” she said.

  He dragged his gaze away from her nearly naked body. “I’ll be right out.”

  She nodded and left. When he went into the main part of the cabin, she was just taking the casserole from the oven. He would have helped by setting the table but by the time he finished washing up, she had everything out.

  The casserole not only smelled amazing, but looked incredible, and Logan’s stomach growled as she scooped some onto his plate. He picked up his fork and immediately dug in.

  “Wow,” he said. “This is excellent.”

  She gave him an amused look. “You don’t have to sound so surprised.”

  “I can’t help it.” He loaded his fork again. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t strike me as the domestic type.”

  “I’m not really. But thanks to my mom, I love to cook.” She shrugged. “I have a personal chef now, so I don’t get to do it as much I’d like. Florian doesn’t like me messing with his kitchen.”

  Logan frowned. “But he does the cooking at your house, right?”

  She nodded. “He’s very proprietary about the kitchen, though. I only go in there on his days off. His food is amazing, and it’s sort of expected I have a chef, so I put up with him.”

  That didn’t make a lick of sense to Logan, but if she was okay with the guy taking over her kitchen, whatever. “I take it he doesn’t like your mom cooking in there either when she comes to visit, huh?”

  A momentary look of sadness streaked across her face. “My parents don’t live in LA.”

  “Oh. Where do they live?”

  “Michigan.”

  He thought he’d picked up a little Midwest in her voice when she’d gotten mad at him last night. “A Michigan girl? That must be where you picked up your intimate knowledge of what kind of clothes to wear in a blizzard then.”

  Considering that had been one of the things that had started last night’s fight, he probably shouldn’t tease her about it. But instead of getting offended, she gave him an embarrassed look.

  “To tell the truth, I’ve been in LA so long, I didn’t think about what the weather would be like up here.”

  He could have ribbed her good about how isolated and fabricated LA was, but decided against it. He turned to what he thought would be a safer topic.

  “Do your parents come out to LA very often?”

  Something that looked like pain flashed in her eyes, but she lowered her gaze to focus on her plate. She pushed her tuna casserole around with her fork. “They don’t come out to LA.”

  From the way she said the words, he got the feeling she didn’t want to talk about it. He should have let it go, but for some reason he couldn’t understand, he didn’t like seeing her upset. The spoiled actress he’d seen last night had been replaced with a vulnerable woman he suddenly wanted to protect.

 
“You don’t get along with your family, then?”

  She pushed her food around some more, her brow knitting. “It’s complicated.”

  “I’m a good listener. Or so my sister tells me.” He grinned. “Then again, that could have something to do with the fact that she talks so much I can’t get a word in.”

  Raine laughed.

  “My offer to listen still stands. If you want to talk about whatever it is.”

  She played with her food some more, then took a bite. “My mom and dad didn’t approve of me moving to Hollywood to become an actress. They saved every penny they made to send me to college, but I didn’t want to go. And when I told them? Well, let’s just say we had a huge fight that ended with me taking out all the money I had in the bank, packing all my stuff in my old Camry and driving to LA the day after my high school graduation.”

  “That was ballsy.”

  “And when I look back on it now, pretty damn stupid.” She ate another forkful of food. “A lot of bad things could have happened to me, but I was eighteen and I wasn’t going to let anyone or anything stop me from getting what I wanted.”

  “It obviously worked out for you.” He helped himself to more tuna casserole. “You’re famous, right?”

  “I just didn’t realize what that fame was going to cost me.” She said it almost to herself. As if suddenly comprehending she hadn’t, she gave him an embarrassed smile, color tinting her cheeks. “I can’t believe I told you all that stuff. I didn’t mean to unload on you like that.”

  He returned her smile with a grin. “What can I say? I’m a good listener.”

  She laughed. “Yes, you are. But now it’s my turn. Tell me about yourself. Why do you come up here to paint when you have a place in Seattle?”

  He’d rather hear more about her—and what fame had cost her—but he didn’t think she’d tell him if he asked. “I come down here to think more than anything else, I guess. This place is kind of a retreat for me when I want to get away from the craziness of it all.”