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“You don’t know my father.”

The waiter came with their wine and poured them both a glass. They studied the menu for a few minutes. “Have you been here before?” she asked. “What’s good?”

He decided not to mention that he owned the place—part of his diversifying-out-of-nightclubs plan. “The steak is very good if you like meat—it comes from an estate in Scotland.”

“You don’t like meat?”

“I’m a vegetarian,” he said. “Much to Grunt’s disgust—no bones in the house.”

He ordered the stuffed peppers while she chose a medium rare steak.

“What’s he like,” Logan asked. “Your father, I mean? He wasn’t there on Sunday.”

“He and mum split up ten years ago.”

“Not divorced?”

“No.”

“Why’d they split?”

“You met my mother. She’s lovely but a little ditzy. They were totally unsuited, but she worked so hard trying to fit in with his world. Then…”

“Then?”

“I got pregnant, and he demanded I get an abortion so I could go on with my legal studies. When I refused, he threw me out. Though I’m pretty sure he only did that because he thought it would bring me in line. And for the first time in her life, my mother stood up to him. Told him she was going as well. And here we are.”

So that one night with him had effectively cost her a career and her father.

“I’m not sorry,” she said, surprising him. “I wouldn’t change things even if I could. I love Jenny, and my father was a control freak. Mum’s better off without him.”

“Does she agree?”

“I don’t know. She doesn’t talk about him much, but I think she still loves him.”

“What about the law thing—is it what you wanted to do?”

She grinned. “No. I was doing it to please my father. He used to talk to me about his cases, and I’d pretend to be interested, but what I really wanted to do was catch the bad guys.”

“Shit.” That was scary. “And am I a bad guy?”

She cocked her head and studied him. “I thought so once. But we wouldn’t be here if I still believed that.”

He took a sip of wine. She hadn’t touched hers yet. “Have a drink,” he said. “I promise not to take advantage of you.”

She lifted her glass and glanced around her. “This place is nice. And I bet I could never afford it on a police sergeant’s salary. So…how rich are you, Logan?”

He almost choked on his mouthful of wine. Trust her to come right out and ask. Most women would hint around the subject, but not Abby. Why did she want to know? Was his father right, and she was about to ask him for money? Somehow he didn’t think so. “Rich enough to pay toward my daughter’s upkeep.”

Her eyes widened. She hadn’t expected that. So obviously she hadn’t been about to demand he hand over vast amounts of cash to support them all. He was glad, but she wasn’t going to shut him out of their lives by not allowing him to be responsible.

“I don’t want your money.”

She sounded almost angry, but at that moment the food arrived, and she clamped her lips tight on whatever else she’d been going to say. She took a swig of wine. As the waiter left, she leaned in toward him. “Is that why you think I told you? To get at your money?”

His lips twitched. He liked her angry. “No. Now eat your food.”

He thought she was going to argue, but she picked up her knife and fork and started eating. Logan sat back, ignoring his own food, watching her.