Free Pursuit by Lynda Chance

it possibly be?
    He 'd had a presentation the night before and hadn't been able to see her, so the forty-eight hours without her was about to drive him insane. He'd thought this shit would have cooled down by now, but it hadn't.
    He tried to suppress the arousal seemingly caused by just standing in front of her door, but it was damn near impossible. She was all he 'd been able to think about all fucking day. How fast could he get her little ass naked?
    She answered right away and held the door open for him, but her cell phone was glued to her ear. She ushered him in with a vague smile as she spoke into the phone but her words made his mood deflate. "Yes, sir. We've got it covered. John arranged for ten tickets to the Lakers game. My flight gets in at noon. I'll grab a rental and see you at the office."
    Logan hung back and observed her with his mouth flattened. As she listened to whomever she was talking to, she shut the door and motioned him toward the couch. "Yes sir, I've worked on it and the amortization of the two properties combined will easily turn a substantial profit. We're going to make money off the deal, no problem."
    Logan sat down as a tension he couldn 't explain stabbed him between the shoulder blades. Lauren's soft voice continued as she walked to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. "I don't mind." As Logan listened to her soothe the man on the phone with her feminine tones, his head began pounding. "It's actually really interesting for me to see how the sales side of the operation works. If it eases your worries to have me there, it's no problem."
    Logan spread his legs out, lifted his hands behind his head and laced his fingers together as Lauren laughed into the phone. "No, that's true. I don't know the first thing about basketball. Now football . . . I'm your girl." She paused. "Yes, sir. You, too. I'll see you in a few days. Goodnight."
    Logan sat back against the couch cushions, his temples throbbing, and watched as Lauren walked toward him with a beer in one hand and a Diet Coke in the other. He leaned in and took the bottle, as she sat down in the chair that was at a ninety-degree angle to the couch.
    ****
    Lauren couldn 't read the hooded expression in Logan's eyes, but it made a quivery feeling run down her spine. "I'm sorry I'm not ready yet." She indicated the shorts and t-shirt she was wearing.
    He seemed to ignore that statement. "So, you're going out of town?" he asked in a voice that sounded casual . . . too casual.
    " Yeah," she said as she sipped her drink.
    " Where?"
    " Los Angeles."
    " When?"
    Lauren took another drink while she digested his terse, one-syllable questions. "Friday."
    " You're leaving for a business trip on Friday? When will you be back?"
    " Sunday night, late."
    " What's up with the weekend travel?"
    She licked her lips and maintained a casual tone. "A couple of things. One . . . we got some good airline rates and two, the clients we're working with requested tickets to this particular Lakers game."
    " So, why you?"
    " Why not me?" She took a sip and raised her eyebrows at him with a challenging smirk. "You don't think a girl can handle it?"
    He twisted his head from side to side as if relieving tension. "That's not what I meant at all."
    She shrugged her shoulders. "Well, I don't know what to tell you," she replied neutrally. "I fly to different regions of the country fairly often. My job title is discretionary, if my bosses want me to wear a different hat, I wear a different hat."
    " I thought you said your job was boring and tedious."
    That almost sounded like an accusation to Lauren, as if he wanted her job to be boring. "It is boring and tedious. It's boring about seventy-five percent of the time, and for me, traveling is tedious. But a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do, you know?"
    " Yeah." He took a drink and set the beer on the coffee table and then leaned back and laced his hands behind his head, the same pose he'd been in earlier.
    He didn 't look