Then an idea struck her. She pretended to cough profusely, indirectly telling him to stay away or she might pass her virus onto him. Then she dug into her bag and donned the clinical mask that she usually kept in her bag for times like this. 

Extracting her pair of dark-shaded sunglasses, she donned those too. Her stage was set. So when Logan’s hand landed on her shoulder, pulling her around to face him, the look on his face almost made her burst out laughing because it was just so hilarious.

 Logan almost jumped out of his skin when he saw  Evonne all dressed up like she was infected with a deadly virus, complete with clinical mask and glasses. “Sorry, young man. Don’t mind me. I just got a wee bit of a cold,” she put on her old lady’s voice. Finally, it came outright. She just hoped she sounded sick enough to halt his suspicion of her.

 “Best to stay away.” Evonne’s plan worked, for Logan was now wedged to the other side of the small elevator, his back pressed against the wall, gaining as much distance from the infected lady as possible.

 It must be his imagination. He must be thinking about his mysterious Lorddess so nonstop that her voice continued to play inside his head like a broken record. That was why he found this lady with the mask so fascinating. 

But try as he might, despite her saying she had a cold, he still couldn’t keep his eyes away from her. Sure he could keep his distance, but his eyes just wouldn’t listen to him. She reminded him of that  Apple so much. They were practically the same height, with the same color hair. 

Apart from the voice that at first sounded so much like his Lorddess, this lady screamed  Apple. But how could Apple be here? This was Queenstown, not Auckland. Through her shaded sunglasses,  Evonne could see Logan gazing at her again. “You like what you see, young man?” She couldn’t help teasing. 

That was usually the line he used to lure his female fans into his bed. Now let us see how Lothario would react being hit on by an old lady, she thought to grin at her idea. Logan tried to stop himself from imagining anything erotic with the lady. 

What the hell was wrong with him? He was being hit on by an old lady with some sort of virus. Instead of telling her to stay away, he just smiled a gentle smile and turned back towards the elevator door. 

He smiled at me. Logan, that no-good, annoying man she constantly called Lothario smiled at her, and a very gentle smile at that. Not that flirty “I want you in my bed” smile, but the gentle, genuine kind one would give someone they loved. 

Suddenly, she realized she didn’t like him smiling at her at all. She found it hard to breathe with her mask on and in that small, confined elevator.  Evonne was trying so hard to control her breathing pattern when a sudden stop in the elevator caused her body to crash against Logan’s. 

He in that instant captured her within his arms to stop her from hitting the wall.  Evonne was so scared of the turn of events that she held onto Logan’s neck for dear life. “What was that?” she asked, her voice shaking, losing its disguise. 

“Shit, it must be the elevator stopping again,” Logan said, looking at that masked face with the sunglasses, all too aware of the sudden change in pitch and tone. It was like she was speaking in a different voice. 

Their eyes suddenly locked together and then nothing else seemed to exist. Something in the atmosphere seemed to shift. Peach scent. Peach and orange blossom. 

The lady smelled of peaches and orange blossoms just like his mysterious Lorddess from last night. Thump! Thump! Thump! Logan felt his loins warming up again. Shit. That was twice this morning.

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