Logan stood perfectly still while the world around him kept ticking along at its relentless British pace, his eyes glued to the face of a woman he never imagined hed see again certainly not like this.
Imogen Clarke. His first love. If you could call it that, his only love, honest enough.
The girl whod once dared him to climb the old water towers, whod danced barefoot in sudden summer showers, whod stolen a kiss behind the school bleachers after lessons and whispered dreams of Paris, poetry and a world bigger than their tiny markettown roots.
Shed vanished after graduation. No goodbye note, no text, not even a carrier pigeon. Shed simply disappeared.
Now she stood there, cradling two trembling little girls on the pavement outside a Chanel boutique on Oxford Street, looking as if the whole world had forgotten her.
Logan dropped to his knees.
Right there, in his tailormade coat and sleek Italian shoes, on the grimy pavement of London.
Imogen he murmured, softer this time.
She couldnt meet his gaze.
I didnt want you to see me like this, she rasped. I almost fled the moment I recognised you.
The twins stared at him with wide, frightened eyes. One of them tugged at Imogens sleeve.
Mum, Im cold.
His heart gave a little thump. Mum.
He turned to Imogen, his voice gentler than she remembered. Are they yours?
She nodded fiercely. Their names are Poppy and Daisy. Theyre three.
He swallowed hard.
Three.
They looked exactly like her, but there was something familiar in the tilt of their chins, the way Daisy squinted against the sunlight, just as he had done as a lad.
His pulse hammered.
Are they mine?
Imogen finally lifted her eyes, tears glistening. I didnt know how to find you. I tried but when I learned who youd become, I thought Her voice quavered. I thought you wouldnt want this. Me. Them.
A silence heavier than any headline settled between them.
He couldnt tell how long they stayed like that.
Then, as if the decision had already been made in the deepest corner of his chest, he slipped his coat off and draped it over Imogens shoulders. He scooped Poppy up tenderly, then offered his hand to Daisy.
Come on, he said firmly. Lets get you home.
The next few days set the tabloids alight.
Tech mogul Logan Bennett spotted with mystery woman and unknown children in central London
Is this the billionaires secret family?
From drifter to penthouse: the woman who finally broke Logan Bennetts silence
Logan, however, couldnt give a toss.
He didnt care about newspaper blurbs, boardroom calls from nervous directors, or the cocktailparty gossip.
What mattered was that Imogen and the girls were snug in his penthouse, warm, safe, and well fed.
And for the first time in ages, his heart felt something again.
A few weeks later, Imogen stood before the floortoceiling windows of their flat, gazing out over the Thames horizon.
I dont belong in this world, Logan, she whispered. Youre you. And Im just
Youre their mother, he interrupted. Youre the only person who ever truly knew me. You belong here more than anyone else.
She turned to him, eyes glossy. I was scared.
So was I, he murmured. But not any more.
He knelt again not for a ring, not even yet but with his whole heart.
Stay. Lets sort this out together.
And Imogen stayed.
Not for the money, not for the flat, not for the press or the glitter.
But because the man whod once taken her hand in a school hallway had found her again this time on the coldest street, at the bleakest moment of her life.
And instead of turning his back
He turned home.
To her.
To their daughters.
To the life they were meant to share.
