Page 8 of Logan (The Valeur Billionaires #1)

Chapter Six

LOGAN

H e still hasn’t fallen in love with our product.

I leave Wolfson’s offices after the long meeting, clutching my briefcase and analyzing the results while I wait for my driver to arrive. The city streets are alive with activity, but my mind is fixated on the unresolved issue.

Wolfson understood the need and meaning of the product we developed. I spent at least an hour in comprehensive explanations, but the emotional connection isn’t there yet.

I saw it on his face.

And if there’s one thing I know, it’s that people make decisions based on their emotions and not in a logical way.

They think—even believe—they’re deciding based on logic, but that’s not usually true. Humans are simple creatures to manipulate.

This deal is crucial, and securing it at an appealing price is paramount. Without access to the cameras manufactured by Wolfson, our product loses its value. Establishing that emotional connection with him is essential.

I text Cora.

Cora, I’m in desperate need of insight into what motivates Aiden Wolfson. I need to know which buttons I can push. Can you assist me with this?

My father trusts me to lead Valeur-Tech. While it was successful under his management, I’m confident it will thrive and grow even more under mine. The new research division I’ve established, integrating artificial intelligence, will make a difference in the world.

I won’t disappoint him or ruin my family’s legacy.

My driver stops in front of me, and without waiting for him to open the door, I slip inside the car.

“To the Dragon Elite Dojo,” I instruct him.

I need to release some pent-up energy and ease the tension, so I can open my mind to new ideas. The local Taekwondo club is the perfect spot for a solid workout.

But today, even the rigorous training fails to alleviate the stress, and my headache only intensifies. I opt to cut the session short and head back to the apartment.

I step inside, moving at a sluggish pace and massaging my neck to ease some tension. The headaches have become a daily occurrence, severely disrupting my ability to function.

I understand they stem from stress, but taking a vacation is out of the question at this crucial juncture for the company. I must seal this deal first and show Dad the value of the new department, despite his initial reservations .

Sloane stands in my kitchen, stirring something in a bowl, a smell that doesn’t register in my foggy mind.

“What are you doing?” I blurt out, my irritation surfacing. I had forgotten she was here, and I desperately needed some quiet to clear my head and think.

“Oh, hey,” she responds with a chipper tone that only serves to exacerbate my pounding headache. “How was your day?”

“Long,” I reply, the tension in my temples tightening. “I need you to prepare a detailed requirements report for the cameras needed for your product. I want to see the minimum specifications the programming allows.” Perhaps this data will sway Wolfson to close the deal with me.

“But—”

“But?” I snap, my patience wearing thin.

Sloane hesitates, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water struggling for breath. I had thought Liam said she was a genius. I can’t deal with incompetence right now. I need something for this headache before it cripples me.

“No,” she says.

“Excuse me?” Did she just refuse my request?

“Yes, I work at Valeur-Tech, and you’re my boss, obviously, but I’m here on vacation. A vacation that I earned and deserve. I don’t want to write reports on my vacation,” she states, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes in what seems like an attempt at intimidation.

Her attempt falls flat. She couldn’t threaten a fly if she tried.

“So, you’re refusing?”

“Yes, I refuse. You told me you’re everything people say you are, but I didn’t realize you were such a son of a bitch. ”

I wince at the words, not from offense but from the increasing pressure in my head. Does she have to shout?

Her expression shifts from defiance to horror as she covers her mouth with her hands. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say it. It slipped out of my mouth. I’m really sorry.”

“You didn’t mean to say it, but you sure meant it,” I retort, trying to keep my voice steady despite the throbbing pain in my head. Normally, this kind of insubordination would lead to immediate dismissal. But Liam’s insistence on her importance holds me back.

“I’m sorry. Truly. I’ll write the report if you forget I ever said that. Okay?”

Flashes appear in the corner of my vision. I lose my balance, reaching out to steady myself against the wall. Fuck. This headache is one of the worst I’ve had.

“Oh, are you okay?” She rushes to my side, grasping my arm.

I flinch, and she releases me. “You don’t look good.

Should I call a doctor? Do you have insurance?

” Her words tumble out in a flurry of concern.

“Of course, you have insurance. You’re rich.

I’m being ridiculous. Maybe I should call an ambulance? ”

“No. It’s just a headache. I need to take a pill and lie down for a while,” I mutter, wishing she would lower her voice.

“I can help you with that,” Sloane offers, her hand hovering in the air before she lets it fall back to her side. “That is if you agree to forget what I said before.”

“Thanks, but I’ll pass. Tea won’t help me now,” I reply. The thought of laughter is tempting, but even moving my facial muscles hurts right now. Besides, if I were to drink or eat anything, I’d likely end up vomiting .

“Not tea, a massage,” she clarifies, her cheeks flushing red. “I mean, a muscle massage. Noth–nothing sexual,” she stutters, her words coming out in a rush.

“Of course not,” I reply, raising an eyebrow at her flustered explanation. Sloane looks cute when she’s embarrassed.

I weigh her offer in my mind. Allowing her to give me a massage might ease the pain, and she does seem genuine in her intent. Plus, she’s the one offering the assistance, not the other way around.

As long as I don’t touch her, there shouldn’t be any issues of harassment. Besides, I haven’t had such a strong attack in a long time. I can barely stand.

“Okay. What should I do?”

Her eyes widen, and she licks her lips. “Take off your jacket and lie down on the couch.”

I give her a quizzical look, noticing a subtle shift in her demeanor. Is she...aroused? It’s an absurd thought, given the circumstances. Perhaps this headache is causing me to misinterpret things.

Following her into the living room, I notice again the way her jeans hug her curves, drawing my attention in an unexpected direction. Suppressing a snort, I shake off the inappropriate thought.

Not sexual, my ass.

I remove my jacket and drape it over a chair. I sense her gaze lingering on me, observing my every move. Her legs are pressed together, a subtle gesture that doesn’t escape my notice. Maybe I wasn’t mistaken earlier.

Despite knowing that nothing will ever happen between us, the notion of her entertaining the idea is gratifying to my ego .

I comply with her instruction, lying down on the sofa on my stomach.

“Try to relax,” she suggests.

I close my eyes as Sloane’s hands work their magic, kneading the tension from my tight shoulder muscles. Damn, she’s good. With each firm squeeze between my shoulder blades, a low moan escapes my lips.

“Can I touch your hair?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper.

With my mind foggy from pain, I can only manage a low growl in response. At this point, I’d agree to anything if it means she keeps those skilled hands on me.

Sloane’s hands glide into my hair, her touch gentle yet firm as she massages my scalp. Then she pulls.

Fuck.

Fuck.

This is amazing.

“Where did you learn to do that?” I mutter, my voice thick with relief.

“Like I said, my mother suffers from headaches. Is it helping?” Her tone is soft, filled with concern.

“Damn, that’s great.” I exhale, and the tension in my muscles melts away. The throbbing ache in my head persists, but it’s dulled now and manageable.

“You’re completely seized up. All your muscles are tense.”

It’s been a stressful period lately, to say the least. The weight of the company’s future rests on my shoulders. The pressure is almost suffocating.

Sloane takes my arm and places it in her lap, her skilled fingers working their way from my shoulder down to my arm muscles. I’m grateful for the barrier of my shirt, yet her touch still ignites a fire within me.

I sense her arousal, can practically taste it in the air.

If I were to make a move, she’d welcome it with open arms, I’m sure of it.

The temptation is undeniable, and I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to have her beneath me.

And damn, the thought of being with her sends a surge of desire coursing through me.

But she’s my employee. Crossing that line would be a huge mistake.

With a sudden resolve, I sit up. “That’s enough. Thanks.”

She looks at me with her doe eyes wide open and brimming with emotion, the pull of her desire outweighing any apprehension.

It’s fascinating how transparent people can be, how they lay their feelings bare for someone like me to exploit. If I were anyone else, she’d already be naked beneath me.

“Thanks. I’ll go get some rest now.” Grabbing my jacket, I make my way to my room, shutting the door behind me with a soft click. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I stare at the untidy sheets she left behind. Her scent lingers in the air, a heady mix of roses, vanilla, and desire.

They say that sexual attraction is heavily influenced by scent, and right now, I can’t help but agree.

My sheets carry her essence, but indulging in fantasies about her is a slippery slope fraught with complications. It’s best to push those thoughts aside and focus on the task at hand.