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yet with a nice thing to say about your mother!'
Logan's mouth twisted. 'Except your father, of course.'
'He's just besotted,' she defended. 'Knocked off his feet by the glamour
that surrounds her.' She shook her head. 'I just hope he comes to his
senses before he does something stupid—like marrying her!'
'Oh, he will,' Logan said grimly.
Darcy's eyes gleamed angrily. 'Because you intend seeing that he does,' she
guessed. 'I don't know which one of you I despise more—you or your
mother!'
Logan's throat moved convulsively. Whether from anger or some other
emotion, Darcy couldn't tell. And she didn't particularly care, either.
'I've had enough of this.' She threw her unused napkin on the table before
bending down to pick up her bag. 'Enjoy your meal, Logan—both portions
of it!' She stood up to leave.
Logan's hand snaked out and grasped her painfully around the wrist as she
would have walked away, looking up at her with darkened blue eyes.
'Darcy, I'm on your side—'
'I don't have a side, Logan,' she assured him contemptuously. 'Thanks to you
and your mother, I don't even have a home any more, either!' Her voice
broke slightly as she realised the truth of her words.
She mustn't cry. She would not give Logan the satisfaction of seeing her cry
again. As far as she was concerned she never wanted to set eyes on Logan,
or his mother, ever again!
'Let me go, Logan,' she ordered coldly, looking down to where his fingers
encircled the slenderness of her wrist.
'And if I don't?' he challenged softly.
Her eyes returned slowly to the harsh arrogance of his face, her chin rising
defiantly. 'Then I'll be forced to kick you in the shin,' she told him with
determination.
Darcy watched as some of the harshness left his face, to be replaced by what
looked to her suspiciously like amusement. No doubt at what he considered
to be the childishness of her claim, she realised.
It was the spur Darcy needed to carry out her threat, lifting her leg back
before kicking forward with all the impotent rage that burned inside her, the
pointed toe of her shoe making painful contact with Logan's shin bone.
She knew it was painful—because of the way Logan cried out in surprise at
the agony shooting up his leg!
But it had the desired effect; he let go of her wrist, to move his hand
instinctively to his hurting shin.
'Goodbye, Logan,' Darcy told him with a pert smile of satisfaction, before
turning on her heel and walking out through the restaurant, totally
unconcerned with the curious looks that were being directed towards her,
the confrontation not having passed unnoticed. Which wasn't surprising,
when Logan had actually yelled out his pain!
Her feelings of defiant satisfaction lasted until she got outside. They even
lasted while she flagged down a taxi and got inside. It was only when the
driver asked her where she wanted to go that her feelings of self-satisfied
anger deflated.
Because, as of this morning, when she had told her father she was moving
out of their home, she had nowhere to go...
CHAPTER FIVE
'SHE hates my guts!' Logan informed Fergus, his cousin having arrived at his
office a few minutes ago. Logan hadn't returned from the restaurant very
long ago himself.
Fergus stayed perfectly relaxed as he sat opposite Logan. 'I see you handled
the situation with your usual tact and diplomacy,' he drawled mockingly.
Logan scowled as he remembered Darcy's earlier fury. In truth, he hadn't
had a chance to be either tactful or diplomatic—how could he have been
when Darcy had already been well aware of exactly who he was when she'd
joined him for lunch?
He had thought he'd had time to tell her the truth himself, but it should have
occurred to him that her father, or someone else, might just drop that little
bit of information into a conversation before the two of them had met today!
No wonder Darcy had seemed different when she'd arrived at the restaurant!
He glowered across at Fergus. 'I didn't get a chance to handle anything—her
father must have already told her I was Margaret Fraser's son!'
'Poor Logan.' Fergus grinned, shaking his head.
'You don't know the half of it,' he retorted.
'No—but I'm hoping you'll tell me,' his cousin returned expectantly.
Because Logan needed to talk to someone, because, for once, he wasn't sure
what to do next, where Darcy was concerned—or if, indeed, he should do
anything!—he told Fergus exactly what had transpired at the restaurant
earlier.
'And then she kicked me!' he concluded slightly incredulously several
minutes later.
Incredulous—because he hadn't really thought she would carry out her
threat. One thing he had definitely learned from this third meeting with
Darcy—never underestimate her!
