The Divorced Heiress Is Entering a New Marriage

Chapter 0194

“Logan…”

“I know I don’t,” he said. “The makeup artists you hired use only the best. I made sure of that.”

Just how much effort did Logan go through behind the scenes to make sure this evening was perfect for

me?

I lower my hands, feeling pleased and foolish at once.

To help ground myself, I reminded us both of the night before us. “We should go over the rules.”

““Again?” he groaned.

I gave him a flat look, with no real heat behind it. “After this display, it seems like you might need to be reminded.”

He smirked. “Fair enough.”

I held up my hand and counted off on my fingers. “No touching. No kissing. No longing looks. No pet names. No informal names at all.” This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org: ©.

“Baby. Sweetie,” Logan said. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he slid into the space behind me, pressing his front to my back. “I’m just getting it out of my systém now.”

I rolled my eyes while secretly enjoying every second. It helped take the sting off some of the previously agreed–upon rules.

“It’s best if you don’t talk to me very much at all,” I said, “I’m not sure you can manage any of this.”

“I do at work, don’t I?” He kissed behind my ear. I didn’t have the heart to ask him to be careful of my hair,

“Sometimes,” I said. “Don’t forget the kisses in your office, or that display in the elevator…”

I meant it jokingly, but something about the words made Logan go cold. Slowly, he dropped his arms from around me and placed some space between us.

Confused, I turned to him, poised to apologize for whatever accidental slight I’d made. “Logan…?”

“Just trying to focus,” he said, his gaze off to the side somewhere, no longer on me.

I pushed down my disappointment. He was probably right to act this way. We needed to keep our wits. about us tonight to make a good impression and not give away too much about our personal lives.

“My parents and grandfather will be there tonight,” Logan said.

1 nodded. I’d met them once before. I think I could handle that encounter, if they even deigned to speak with me. I knew from experience that this evening, I was likely to be ignored by everyone.

Even, unfortunately, Logan.

Down on the street, Logan and I enter a limousine.

“I’d prefer to drive,” Logan explained, “But this is the standard.”

As the car brought us closer, we both tensed up some I couldn’t help my knee from jumping. Logan

stared hard at the window.

“Ready?” Logan asked, as we arrived at the venue.

I nodded.

If I had been on his same social level, it would have been courteous for me, as the woman, to exit the vehicle first. As it was, Logan was the only important one in this car, so he was the first to step out.

Unbelievably, this event had a red carpet walk up to the front of the art museum, where the party was to occur. Photographers, reporters, and some cheering fans and onlookers lined each side of the carpet, with handlers guiding the members of high society through.

“Stay close to me,” Logan whispered behind him to me, then moved forward into the flutter of flashing lights and glamor.

I followed in his shadow, ever just out of frame of the photos.

Eventually, when we finally made it through the front door of the museum, I nearly collapsed in relief.

“So far so good,” Logan said, not looking at me, though I occasionally saw him glancing, as if to make sure I was nearby. He turned toward the main event, and cursed. “Or not.”

I followed the length of his stare toward where the bulk of the party was taking place.

There, right by the front entrance to the banquet hall, was Dylan.