The Real Thing Page 4

  Her lips curved. “I hear that. There’s this diner in LA called Joe’s Place that I go to when I need some time to myself.”

  Logan couldn’t picture her in a greasy spoon. “A diner doesn’t seem like the kind of place you go to be alone.”

  “Okay, well maybe not alone then. But I feel comfortable there. Joe and his wife Emily gave me a job waiting tables when I first got to LA. They knew me before I made it big, and don’t treat me differently now that I’m famous. It’s the one place in LA where I can be a regular person. No one bothers me or hounds me for autographs.” She grinned. “Plus, it’s the only restaurant I know of that serves pumpkin pie all year round. It’s my favorite and Emily’s tastes just like my mom’s.”

  “Why don’t you get your personal chef to make it for you?”

  Raine rolled her eyes. “The first time I asked, he said something in French and made me his version of it, which was more like a puff pastry filled with apples and pumpkin. It tasted kind of like those fruit pies you get at a fast food restaurant. Don’t tell him I said that, though.” She laughed. “And we’re talking about me again, aren’t we?”

  Logan laughed. “Fine by me.”

  She waved her fork. “No, no. I want to hear about you and this sister of yours who talks too much. I want to know why you switched from painting in oils to watercolor, too.”

  So, instead of locking himself in his studio with his paintbrush, he spent the rest of the night telling Raine about his life in Seattle. Though she smiled when he mentioned his parents, there was sadness in her eyes, too. Was losing her family one of the things being famous had cost her? He wanted to ask, but she was already talking about his artwork again.

  He was usually the type of guy who kept things to himself, but at her prodding, he found himself telling her about what a debacle his most recent gallery show had been.

  “Well, I haven’t seen your oil paintings, but I think your watercolors are beautiful,” she said.

  Maybe she was just blowing sunshine up his ass, but his ego didn’t give a crap. She was good for it, and right then, that’s all he cared about. That wasn’t the only reason he opted to hang out with her instead of paint, though. As shocking as it sounded, he actually enjoyed talking to her. When she wasn’t being a diva, she was fun to be with. Not only did she laugh at his jokes—which could be lame at times, he had to admit—but she knew how to laugh at herself, too. He liked that in a woman.

  It didn’t hurt that she was absolutely beautiful. He’d gotten so lost in those big, blue eyes of hers he almost forgot what he’d been going to say a few times. And when she talked, all he could focus on were her pillow soft lips and fantasize about kissing her. Which made him think about running his hands all of that gorgeous body. And yeah, that made sleeping a couple feet away from her pure torture.

  Logan was up before her again the next morning. Only this time, he was in the kitchen making coffee. Without a shirt. And damn, wasn’t that a nice sight to wake up to? Raine could have lay there gazing at him all day. She probably would have if he hadn’t turned around and caught her staring. She tried to look away, but his chiseled chest and six-pack abs were mesmerizing.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said.

  She pushed her hair back from her face. “You didn’t.”

  “Coffee should be done in a minute.”

  “Great.”

  Stifling a moan, Raine dragged her gaze away from all that glorious muscle and went into the bathroom. When she came back out, Logan had put on a shirt. Bummer. After a quick breakfast, he went into his studio, leaving her to ponder last night’s conversation.

  She couldn’t believe she’d told him all that stuff about herself. It was like talking to a therapist, only easier. Maybe because she didn’t know Logan. Or maybe because she instinctively knew he was so un-Hollywood she’d never have to worry about any of the stuff she’d told him showing up in the tabloids. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d talked to a guy about something that didn’t involve her—or him—attempting to get a part in a movie. While confiding in Logan had brought up some painful memories, it had also been cathartic. Once or twice, she’d been on the verge of telling him about her upcoming wedding, but every time she tried, she found herself asking him to reveal something about himself instead. She didn’t want to think about the wedding right now.

  Her gaze went to Logan’s studio. She would’ve liked to watch him paint, but the closed door probably meant he didn’t want to be disturbed, so she curled up on the couch and read in between watching the snow fall outside the cabin’s big window. It might not be the pampering she would have gotten at the thousand-dollar-a-day spa in Mountain Ridge, but it was pretty dang close.

  Logan came out of his studio around noon for lunch. As they talked over peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, she had a hard time reconciling him to the guy who’d spanked her the first night. Then again, she was acting differently now, too. She hadn’t said a snide word to him since he’d warmed her ass. That would have been a record for her back in Hollywood. She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but somehow the spanking he’d given her had helped her de-stress. Who knew? Maybe spanking would catch on as a new therapy trend in Hollywood. She would have laughed at the thought, if the idea of going back to LA didn’t make her rebel inside. Getting snowed in with Logan had given her a bye, a time-out from her life there. When the snow stopped, she was going to have to go home and marry Cameron, like it or not.

  The reminder put her in a pissy mood for the rest of the day, so it was probably a good thing Logan spent most of it in his studio or she probably would have gone off on him if he looked at her wrong.

  If he noticed how quiet she was during dinner he didn’t comment on it. When he gave her a curious look as they were cleaning up afterward, she thought for sure he was going to ask what was up, but he only stared out the window above the sink as he washed and she dried.

  “It stopped snowing,” he said.

  Raine looked out the window. In the early evening dimness, the final flakes of snow fluttered down. Her hands suddenly shook, a ridiculous sense of panic taking hold of her. With the blizzard over, there was nothing to keep her here.

  She finished drying the plate and put it back in the cabinet with the others. “Good. I can finally get my car out of that stupid ditch. I’ll go change.”

  His brows drew together. “You want to go now?”

  Five minutes ago, she’d dreaded the idea of leaving, so why was she in such a hurry to go? Because the longer she stayed, the harder it was going to be to go back to her life. And as much as she hated the direction it was headed at the moment, she did have to go back. Her poor assistant Chloe was probably completely freaked out because she hadn’t checked in.

  “Yeah.” She folded the dish towel and placed it on the counter. “I mean, there’s no real reason to wait until morning when I can leave now.”

  “There isn’t? How about waiting for them to plow the roads?”

  “You have four-wheel drive.”

  “But you don’t.”

  He had a point. Dammit.

  She sighed. “Okay. I still need to go into town, though. And not that pitiful place we drove though the other night—the other one.”

  He frowned again. “What for?”

  “I have to call my assistant and let her know where I am.”

  He dried his hands on the towel she’d just folded. “You’ve already waited two days to call her. One more day won’t hurt.”

  Probably not, but it was the longest she’d gone without talking to the other woman. And if there was one person in Hollywood she could talk to, it was Chloe. She wasn’t just her assistant, she was her best friend. And talking to her was what she should have done instead of running off to the spa. If she had, she wouldn’t be stranded in this cabin where she had way too much time to think about how much more simple life would be if she could stay here forever.

  “I have to call her tonight.”

 
She walked over to where her bag sat on the floor beside the couch and rummaged through it for her jeans. Then she remembered they were still hanging up in the bathroom. She hoped they were dry.

  “Forget it,” he said from behind her. “I’m not talking you anywhere tonight.”

  She didn’t know why his answer bothered her, but it did. She whirled around to glare at him. “Why do you always have to be so damn difficult?”

  “Me?” He folded his arms across his chest. “I’m not the one demanding we go out there in two feet of freaking snow and risk our lives just so I can talk to my assistant.”

  Raine knew from the way the muscle in his jaw worked that she was on the verge of royally pissing him off. Considering that had gotten her spanked the other night, she probably should have let the issue drop—especially since he was right. It was insane to go out before the roads were plowed. But she couldn’t back down. So, she mimicked his pose and glowered back at him.

  “I may be the actress, but you’re the one being dramatic. If you won’t drive me, I’ll borrow your truck and go myself.”

  “The hell you will. I’ve seen the way you drive.”

  She lifted her chin. “That was the car’s fault, not mine.”

  He shook his head. “I thought you learned something from that spanking I gave you the other night, but I guess not.”

  “I learned that you’re a Neanderthal who likes to put a woman over your knee whenever she does something you don’t like.”

  “Not all women. Just the ones who act like spoiled brats.”

  “I am not a spoiled brat!”

  His brow rose. “So, you’re saying you weren’t about to throw yourself on the floor and start kicking and screaming? Could have fooled me.”

  She almost stamped her foot, but caught herself just in time when she realized what a field day he’d have with that. She settled on a growl of frustration instead. “Just go into your studio and paint something, dammit.”

  “I’ll do that. Right after I spank you.”

  Raine backpedaled, almost tripping over her weekender bag. “You are not spanking me again.”

  Logan advanced on her, sidestepping the bag without even looking down. “Oh yes, I am.”

  She backed up some more, but he grabbed her arm before she could take more than two steps. She dug in her heels, but her bare feet hand couldn’t get enough of a grip.

  “Let me go, you Cro-Magnon!”

  He spun around so abruptly she had to take a step back. “I thought you said I was a Neanderthal.”

  “Same thing,” she ground out.

  “Not really.” Did he just smirk? “Cro-Magnons are much more advanced.”

  She clenched her teeth. “Then that’s definitely not you.”

  This time he most certainly smirked. She probably would have slapped it off his face if he hadn’t sat down on the couch and yanked her tumbling over his knee.

  Raine shoved against his thigh, struggling to push herself up, but with Logan’s arm wrapped tightly around her waist, she couldn’t do anything more than squirm around helplessly.

  “Let me up, you asshole!”

  “So, I’m an asshole as well as a Neanderthal now?”

  “Yes.” She yelped as his hand came down on the seat of her shorts. “Damn you, I’ll have you arrested for this.”

  “Go ahead.” His hand connected with her derriere again, harder this time. “Tell the cops I spanked you. Once they find out what a pain in the ass you are, they’ll say you deserved it. They’ll probably want to do it themselves.”

  “You… Owwww!”

  She should never have provoked him. Then why had she? If she didn’t know better, she’d think it was because she wanted him to spank her again. But that was crazy.

  His hand found the sensitive skin right where her shorts had ridden up, and she squealed.

  Why would she want another spanking when it stung so much? Her therapist would probably say it was because her inner Id was manipulating events to give her what she craved the most.

  His hand located the same tender spot on the underside of the other cheek.

  Was that it? Had she secretly been looking for a guy who wouldn’t put up with her crap and take her in hand whenever she acted up?

  Now, that really was crazy.

  Then why did something inside her protest when he suddenly stopped the spanking?

  She’d answer that later, after he locked himself in his studio and she was alone on the couch nursing her freshly spanked bottom.

  But Logan didn’t let her up. Instead, he hooked his fingers in the waistband of her shorts and yanked them down.

  Raine’s face flamed. She didn’t know why she was so embarrassed. She’d done nude scenes in movies before. But this was different. She was over some guy’s knee with her bare ass in the air—and he was spanking her. Hard.

  “Owwww!” Who’d have thought her skimpy shorts would offer so much Protection? It felt like her bottom was on fire. “That hurts!”

  “Good.” He smacked her ass again. “Maybe you’ll remember that the next time you want to behave like a brat.”

  She opened her mouth to tell him—again—she wasn’t a brat, but all that came out was a squeal. She reached back to shield her burning cheeks, but he grasped her wrist without missing a beat and pinned it against the small of her back. She kicked her legs frantically, hoping to get free that way, but Logan trapped her flailing limbs with his own leg, holding her captive more effectively than she would ever have imagined. Completely helpless now, she lay there draped over his knee and silently called him every foul name she could think of while he administered a dozen more spanks. Ouch. If this was what her inner Id wanted, it needed therapy more than she did.

  When he finally let her up, her face was as red as her ass had to be. She struggled to pull up her shorts as she glared up at him.

  “You bastard,” she spat. “You’re not going to get away with this. As soon as I’m out of here, I’m going to the cops and telling them everything. I—”

  “You’re even more beautiful when you’re angry, did you know that?”

  Logan’s words made her do a double take. “What?”

  His dark eyes smoldered with heat. “It’s true. You’re sexy as hell when you’re mad. Almost as sexy as you are when you’re getting your ass tanned—you obviously can’t see it, but you have the most amazing wiggle when you’re getting spanked. Seriously sexy.”

  She stared at him for a long time, speechless. What the hell was he saying—and how the hell should she respond? When she finally did think of something to say, Logan’s mouth came down on hers before she could get the words out.

  Raine was so startled at first that she automatically kissed Logan back. It was what a woman did when a man this hot put his lips on you. His mouth was gentle on hers, his tongue teasing, and she ran her hands halfway up his chest, seeking the button on his shirt, before she remembered where she was and who was kissing her. She pushed against his chest with a sound of indignation. Logan lifted his head, but didn’t release his hold on her shoulders.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she demanded. “You can’t kiss me like that.”

  His mouth twitched. “Well, if not like that, how about like this?”

  Logan buried his hands in her hair and tipped her head back. Raine parted her lips under his, a low moan of pleasure slipping out as his tongue entwined with hers. The anger she’d felt disappeared to be replaced with a suddenly knee-weakening desire to be completely and totally possessed by this man. She didn’t care that he’d just held her down over his knee and spanked her. Hell, maybe that was why she wanted him so much. Or maybe it was because she hadn’t had sex with a guy in a long time—unless she counted that hot and steamy shower scene in her upcoming movie, which she didn’t. Whatever it was, she’d never been so consumed by a mere kiss before. She swore the heat of his touch would burn right through her, that his kiss would make her explode. She slid her hands up his chest
to grip his shoulders, partly to keep from collapsing, and partly because she needed to feel those hard muscles she knew were under there.

  He dragged his mouth away, his breathing ragged. “I wanted to do that since I first saw you.”

  Raine wasn’t often speechless, but for the second time that night, she couldn’t think of anything adequate to say. Words just didn’t seem to be able to convey the emotions that were zipping through her body right then. So, she grabbed the back of his head and forcefully pulled him down for another kiss. This time, she was just as aggressive as he was, plunging her tongue into his mouth to urge his to come out and play. She didn’t want any confusion about her desire at his point.

  Logan groaned, gliding his hands down her back to grab her well-spanked ass. Tingles chased over her skin, and she jumped. He chuckled against her mouth, his hands grabbing the bottom of her tank top. She reluctantly broke the kiss to lift her arms so he could take it off. He tossed it on the floor, then trailed his hands down her outstretched arms, around the curve of her bare breasts and finally over the curve of hips to push down her shorts. His gaze, molten gold in the light from the fire, slowly traveled down the length of her body and back up again. Heat pooled between her thighs at the hunger in his eyes.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” he breathed.

  Men had told her that before, and yet this was the first time she’d ever blushed at the compliment – or really ever believed it. “Thank you. Something tells me you’re just as gorgeous underneath all those clothes. Take them off.”

  It wasn’t a request, and if he waited too long, she was fully prepared to tear his clothes off his body herself.

  When he took a half second too long reaching for his belt, Raine’s hands beat him there. Feeling more feral and animalistic than she ever had in her life, she grabbed his belt and tugged it open. Logan helped by stripping off his shirt, and her fingers fumbled with the buckle as she watched the firelight play over his chiseled chest and washboard abs. He should be on the model-side of the artist’s palette, not behind the easel. As much as she wanted the rest of him naked, she couldn’t resist running her hands over all those glorious muscles first. That was okay because Logan picked up where she left off, shoving down his jeans and underwear in one motion.