Chapter 3 Compromising Photos

Logan stood with his head slightly bowed, observing the woman whose eyes kept darting around, obviously plotting her escape.

Standing this close, he could tell this woman wore no perfume or makeup.

Bathed in soft moonlight streaming through the window, she wasn’t bad-looking.

In fact, she could even be described as pretty—petite frame, fair skin, lovely oval-shaped face, dainty lips, and small nose.

But her best features were her eyes—big, round, liquid eyes shielded under long, thick lashes that required no help from mascara.

People often said that eyes are the window to the soul, and in this woman’s case, it was actually true.

Just one glance at her, Logan could tell what she was thinking—make a run for it, or try to reason with him?

Leaning forward slightly, he could smell her shampoo—something cheap and citrusy, unlike the thousand-dollar limited-edition Chanel No. 5 Eau de Toilette Olivia Anderson wore.

But strangely, he didn’t feel the same nausea he experienced when Olivia got close to him.

To confirm, he stepped forward and took another whiff.

His action apparently startled the woman out of her mental calculations.

She staggered back half a step, her round eyes made rounder by surprise.

Logan couldn’t help but be reminded of the Netherland Dwarf rabbit—equally petite-sized, equally large eyes, and equally skittish.

Alessia, thinking the man was about to make a grab for her camera, hugged it close to her chest.

Taking a moment to collect herself, she conjured up an ingratiating smile. ‘Mr Wilde, as the newspeople often say, there’s no such thing as bad publicity. I can promise you, if you’ll graciously allow me to use one or two of the photos taken tonight, you’ll see a story that’s filled with nothing but praises for you. In fact, I already have an idea for the first paragraph.’

She cleared her throat, deciding to improvise. ‘In the glamorous city of Veridian, where fortunes are made and hearts are captivated, a seismic event has shaken the elite circles. The ever-dashing Mr Logan Wilde, Veridian’s unrivalled bachelor and the epitome of charm and success, has sent shockwaves through the city by firmly rejecting the seductive advances of A-list actress Olivia Anderson…’

‘That’s enough!’ Logan raised a hand like a traffic officer. ‘That’s…more than enough.’

Though he never considered himself the blushing type, he couldn’t help but feel his cheeks heating up as the young woman waxed lyrical about ‘Veridian’s unrivalled bachelor.’

‘This is what they teach you in journalism school?’

‘I wouldn’t know.’ Alessia shrugged. ‘I’ve never been to a journalism school.’

‘Yet you call yourself a journalist,’ Logan said sarcastically.

Alessia sighed. ‘It’s not the best job in the world, but it pays the bills.’

Her voice took on a plaintive tone. ‘Mr Wilde, please. I promise there won’t be anything in the photos or article to embarrass you. You didn’t do anything with that actress anyway. The story’s really important to me. If you do me this favour and allow me to use the photos, I can finally secure my position as an official member of BuzzBeat. I really, really need this story.’

Logan furrowed his brow. ‘You are not an employee of BuzzBeat yet?’

‘Not yet. Still on probation.’

Logan studied the woman standing before him, her figure outlined against the shadows cast on the French window.

She was young and appeared intelligent, and there was something about her that intrigued him.

Sensing a glimmer of hope, Alessia pressed on, her voice filled with sincerity. ‘The chief editor promised that if I secure this story, I’ll be guaranteed a spot on the news team. I genuinely need this job to support my family. Mr Wilde, please, I implore you to help me.’

‘Why should I help you?’ Logan asked coldly, his walls still firmly in place.

He wasn’t really interested in the photos or the story, though.

He was just distracting the woman with conversation while he confirmed his suspicion—he wasn’t repulsed by her.

Despite what his therapist told him, Logan didn’t believe he had gynophobia; he was convinced it was an invented medical condition.

But he couldn’t deny the fact that when women, especially women he didn’t know, approached him, he would start feeling anxious.

His pulse rate would pick up.

He would suffer from shortness of breath, discomfort in the chest, and sometimes he’d feel lightheaded.

It was worse if the woman wore perfume; he’d be nauseated and feel like he was being smothered.

When Olivia Anderson reached for his belt earlier, it took all his self-control not to send the woman flying across the room with a roundhouse kick.

Yet, he had been standing within half a metre of this tabloid reporter, inhaling the scent of her cheap shampoo, and feeling…fine.

Alessia, oblivious to what was going on in Logan’s mind, continued pleading her case. ‘Mr Wilde, you are a kind man. Everybody knows that. You donate millions of dollars to worthy causes every year. Just think of me as one of your charity cases. Giving up a few harmless pictures so a woman can keep her job. Sounds like a worthy cause, doesn’t it? I beg you, please?’

‘A worthy cause?’ Logan repeated, a glint of sharpness in his eyes. ‘For an unscrupulous paparazzi like you?’

‘Who says I don’t have scruples?’ Alessia grew anxious. ‘I didn’t take any compromising photos of you. Both you and Miss Anderson were fully clothed and not engaged in anything…untoward. Nothing happened.’

‘If nothing happened, how can that be newsworthy?’ Surreptitiously, Logan took another half a step closer to her.

Alessia smiled. ‘You underestimate the importance of your own name, Mr Wilde. Just having your name appear in the headline is enough to generate millions of views.’

‘Are you calling me clickbait?’

Sheepishly, Alessia touched her nose. ‘I prefer the term “buzzworthiness,” as we say at BuzzBeat.’

She made another attempt to persuade him. ‘Just one story would help me support my family. Besides, since you already know nothing happened, it won’t harm you in any way. Would you please—’

‘Don’t spout nonsense,’ Logan snapped impatiently. ‘Delete the photos.’

What if his near panic attack was caught on camera?

What if the photos showed the sweat on his forehead, the unease in his body language?

Or, worse, what if the readers, after seeing he turned down one of the hottest women in showbiz, thought there was something wrong with him?

Logan reached for the camera. ‘Give me that.’

‘No.’ Alessia immediately shook her head, her determination unwavering. ‘You can’t confiscate it. It’s private property.’

Logan’s brow furrowed slightly, his patience wearing thin.

Faced with such a stubborn woman, he had no choice but to take matters into his own hands. ‘Then I’ll have to do it myself.’

In one swift motion, Logan reached for the camera hanging around Alessia’s neck.

‘Don’t touch me!’ Alessia swiftly pulled back, clutching the camera protectively to her chest.

Logan showed no intention of giving up.

He moved closer, but the woman squirmed and writhed and tried to twist herself into a human pretzel, keeping the camera firmly out of his reach.

Determinedly, he pinned her shoulder with one hand while his other hand made a grab for the camera.

But instead of the hard aluminium alloy of the camera, his fingers closed around something soft and round and…elastic.

He gave it a testing squeeze, then froze.