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The handwriting was somewhere between print and script, with a definite feminine flourish. Judging by the last item, the pressure with which it was written, she had a temper. Despite the dust and machinery in the boiler room, he thought he caught a light, fresh scent left by the writer.
Logan put the list back on the workbench; there would be plenty of time for that after he unpacked. Xavier had said a uniform wasn’t necessary when he’d been hired, but Logan had found several used work shirts at a thrift store that fit the bill. They went with the beat-up pickup sitting outside. If he was to be the maintenance man, he could at least pretend to play the part.
The little suite apartment that came with the job wasn’t much; kitchenette, a living area and a separate bedroom with a private bathroom. He had stayed in worse and this was out of the way and quiet. He tossed his duffle on the bed, putting his meager belongings away. It wasn’t much, but he didn’t figure he would need a lot for this assignment.
Xavier had accepted his work history with few questions. Logan was sure there had been strings pulled by SHIELD to leave the powerful telepath unsuspecting, wasn’t like they could probe his adamantium laced skull for answers anyway. Didn’t matter, he didn’t plan on being there much more than six months, maybe a year at the most if he found a reason to take his time. If the rumors were correct about the school, it would only be a matter of time before he substantiated them.
This was almost a cushy job. Infiltrate Xavier’s School for the Gifted and find out if the school was a cover for an elite team of vigilantes. After that, he would file a report with SHIELD and go on to his next assignment.
Time to get into the role. Pulling a work shirt on, he walked to the adjoining boiler room in search of tools. He found what he needed easily enough and list in hand; he headed to the secretary’s office for directions.
Rogue walked into Storm’s suite to find long legs sticking out from underneath the kitchen sink. The well-worn denim hugged some fine, muscular thighs. Nice change from Mr. Jenkins’ baggy, old man pants.
“Mr. Logan?” she ventured.
There was an answering grunt, followed by something mumbled and a metal on metal sound.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” She tried unsuccessfully to turn her eyes away from the toned set of abs staring at her from where Mr. Logan’s shirt had ridden up. Well, that was better than plumber’s crack. Though if his front was anything to go by, maybe she should check out his backside before dismissing it.
“Just Logan.” He scooted out from under the cabinet, resting back on his elbows to take in the owner of the Southern accent. If his nose didn’t deceive him, this was also the writer of his to-do list.
His eyes traveled up the young woman’s body, from booted feet to white-streaked hair. Noting the ample curves and pretty features. She wasn’t a classic movie star beauty like the Jean Grey he’d met earlier. Neither was she exotic like Storm who had opened this suite’s door.
There was something else about her that drew his attention. She blushed prettily under his gaze, something the older women hadn’t done. Hmmm, maybe he’d found someone to keep him entertained during his stay.
“Oh.” Rogue cleared her throat. She felt like an idiot, her mind drawing a blank as he continued to assess her; she couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her hot with just a look. Lord have mercy, but this man knew how to make a woman feel wanted. She flushed an even deeper shade of red.
“Where are my manners?” she stammered. “I’m Rogue.” Hot flashes? Surely she was too young for those. “You must have found my note, Logan.”
He liked the way his name tumbled from her lips and wanted to know if his name would sound the same when she was underneath him. Smiling, he put the wrench in the toolbox. He was getting ahead of himself. First, he would need to see how far her interest went before charming her into his bed.
“I take it you’ve been filling in since Mr. Jenkins retired.” He could fake curiosity because he had a feeling he would need to take a little more time with this one than usual.
“Yep, I used to help him out when I could and it just naturally fell to me.” Rogue could feel him watching her every move and suddenly she didn’t know what to do with her hands or how to stand naturally. “If you want, I can show you around.”
Logan would like that very much, he had a thing or two he could show her too. He watched her turn toward the door and decided he wouldn’t mind following those swaying hips anywhere.
“That sounds like a good idea.” Logan cleaned up the area. He already knew where the next place on the list was, but wouldn’t mind following that sweet ass around the mansion. “Lead the way, Darlin’.”
“Hey, you haven’t told us about the maintenance man, Chica.” Jubilee had run out of things to talk about. She turned in her seat to get a better look at Rogue sitting behind Storm.
Rogue shrugged. She didn’t want to tell them she found herself flustered in his presence and unable to string two thoughts together, even after two months. There had been several vague but pleasant dreams that left her embarrassed to be in his presence the next day. “Uhm…he’s more efficient than Mr. Jenkins.”
“Girl, why you got to tease?” Jubilee whined from the co-pilot’s seat. “You know what I mean. Does he have any powers? Because so far as I’ve noticed he might have better hearing.” Pausing, she fanned herself. “And super sex appeal. I bet he knows how to show a girl a good time.”
“I…a…” Rogue was mortified, not that her mind hadn’t wondered that way. She’d helped Mr. Jenkins because he would leave tools everywhere and forget to turn off the electricity when working on outlets.
But Logan, he was a different story. In the beginning, she’d helped him navigate the mansion; he had an excellent sense of direction and quickly knew it as well as longtime residents. Now she followed him around on the pretense of helping. Mainly it was an excuse to fill up her spare time and it didn’t hurt that she could admire him while he worked, though he seemed to have a sixth sense and had caught her daydreaming about him. Good thing she didn’t drool or that would have been a dead give away.
Storm spoke up, saving Rogue from further embarrassment. “I don’t know what to think of him yet.” She laughed lightly, “I trust the faucet he fixed will never leak again, but with my heart…”
Jubilee threw up her hands in disgust. “Have I taught you guys nothing. Who said anything about my heart? But that man can scratch my itch anytime.” She faked a few breathless noises, making both Rogue and Storm laugh.
As they unbuckled, she continued, “It doesn’t matter anyway, because the way he keeps eyeing you, babe, he wants to scratch your itch.” Jubilee emphasized her point my elbowing Rogue as they walked down the ramp. Storm was in the lead nodding in agreement.
Rogue didn’t know what Jubilee was talking about. Oh sure, Logan winked at her, said things with a sexual innuendo, and made her blush. But she’d seen him flirt with all the willing women that way. It wasn’t like she was going to get a chance; Logan was out of her league. He would want a woman with experience, she imagined her lack of skill would be frustrating for him.
Her only experience with men amounted to holding hands with Bobby in high school and teasing Gambit. The latter never went past kissing due to her lack of control or their incompatibility or both. Who was she kidding? Her tendency to hold people at arm’s length all the time--that was the reason more than anything. She knew she could never flippantly give her heart to anybody just because they were charming.
If nothing else Rogue’s mutation had taught her to be careful, not only with her movements but also her attachments. She had learned the hard way, more than once, that the exterior didn’t always reflect what was inside. Friends were chosen carefully, no less consideration would go into the choosing of a lover.
Logan was something to behold, muscles straining as he powered off a rusty bolt or the wild hair she was forever tempted to run her fingers through. However, until he was willing to put the same singular concentration on her as he did his work and not just the sex that could be had, things between them would remain as they were.