But she didn't hate him. That was all too apparent when he stared at her across the supper table and her eyes fell in blushing confusion to her plate. His heart began to race in his chest as he realized how easily he could disconcert her. His eyes fell to her mouth. He remembered much too vividly how it felt to kiss her, to hold her. He'd tried for the rest of the day to put that sweet interlude out of his mind, but he couldn't. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted it again.
With an angry movement of his hand, he reached for his coffee cup and accidentally hit it, sloshing hot coffee right across the table onto Kit's white blouse.
She gasped, grabbing a napkin to dab at it. While Logan tried to apologize, she glared at him. "Been taking lessons from Betsy, have we?" she asked with cool sarcasm. "No need to worry, it will wash out. Excuse me, please."
She was grateful for the incident in a way, because it gave her the opportunity to escape. Everyone was looking at her. The kids were probably recalling every lurid minute they'd witnessed from the barn, and Emmett was speculative and a little sad. Tansy was hiding amusement. Logan—well, Logan was a puzzle altogether. But Kit had felt like a lab specimen. By the time she changed and went back downstairs, supper would be over and she could escape.
After she stripped off the blouse, she soaked it in the bathroom sink. Her flimsy bra was wet, too, from the coffee. That, she thought resignedly, would have to be washed as well. As she unfastened it, her elbow caught a bottle of shampoo and knocked it across into the bathtub with a heavy thump. The noise concealed a brief knock at the door, and her own movements, as she retrieved and replaced the shampoo, masked the sound of footsteps.
She slid her bra into the sink and was swirling it through the water when a soft sound beside her made her turn her head.
Logan was holding the door open, and he was making no pretense of not looking. His eyes, dark with surprise and fascination, slid over her breasts as if they belonged to him, savoring their firm, tip-tilted contours, enjoying their dusky hard tips and creamy texture.
He hadn't expected this when he'd come after her, albeit reluc-tantly, to apologize. Seeing her half nude had knocked every sane thought right out of his mind. He was enthralled by the utter beauty of her. He leaned against the door frame and gave his eyes free rein. "I don't think there's any work of art in the world that could compare favorably to a woman's bare breasts," he said quietly, and without offensive intent. "Yours are beautiful, Kit. Absolutely breathtaking."
They must have been, because she actually saw his breathing change. Her eyes fell and she saw something else change, too, before she quickly lifted her eyes again and quickly folded her arms over her breasts.
"I won't embarrass you any more than I have," he said softly. "It's all right. I only came after you to apologize. Spilling the coffee really was an accident."
"I knew that," she said. Her voice was husky and she felt her body ache with new sensations, new hungers. Her breasts began to swell and tingle and throb. His hands were like plates, she thought as she stared at him. They would cover her breasts completely. They would be warm and a little rough, and her body would tremble because it would feel so sweet to have them on her bare skin.
The feelings frightened her. She shivered, her eyes wide and a little apprehensive as she looked at him.
Logan saw her hunger and reacted to it. He wanted her. God, he wanted her! And if her vulnerability was any indication, she wanted him just as much.
"You've never known a man's eyes or hands before, have you, Kit?" he asked very gently.
She couldn't get a word past her tight throat. She shook her head.
His eyes traced her body with quiet, aching appreciation. He had to touch her. He couldn't help himself; he had to! "There is, as they say, a first time for everything, little one," he said.
He sounded almost solemn. And as she watched, he pushed away from the doorframe, walked slowly inside and closed and locked the door behind him.
Chapter Six
Kit couldn't find the right words to express what she felt. It would have been muddled if she had. She wanted him to look at her; she ached for him to touch her. But it was wrong, because he was only interested in the physical intimacy, and because he was going to marry Betsy. She should scream her head off and order him out of the room, and her brain wanted to, but her body trembled helplessly as he walked toward her. Her eyes told him that he could have anything he wanted.
His own eyes were stormy, not easily read at all. His broad face was without humor or teasing. It was as solemn as if he were in church.
Without a word, he reached and disengaged her hands from her breasts. He moved them away from her body and brought them to her sides. Then he looked at her, with awe and quiet delight while she struggled to breathe normally and failed.
When one big hand came up and gently touched just the tip of her breast, a weak cry escaped her throat.
"This is where you're most sensitive," he said, tracing the hard, erect tip. He watched her eyes while he touched it, savoring its heat and hardness with his fingers and then with his palm. “It frightens you to be vulnerable, doesn't it?"
“Yes," she whispered.
"Don't you think I am?" he asked surprisingly. His fingers went to the Western-cut shirt he was wearing and flicked open the pearly snaps.
Her eyes lit up with pure delight as she gazed at the thick dark hair on his broad, bronzed chest.
"Here. Touch me where I'm touching you."
He drew her fingers to his chest, and let her feel the hard tip over his heart.
She traced it and he caught his breath, laughing softly at her surprise.
"When men and women make love, there's no real master," he said, moving so that his big hand could completely cover her soft breast. "Both become vulnerable. Fragile..."
He bent and kissed her parted lips with a tenderness that was indescribable. His hands were gentle on her body, tracing, learning, exploring, until he knew every centimeter of skin above her waist.
Kit, too, was learning. Her hands buried themselves in that thick pelt and tugged at it with a pleasurable rhythm. But all too soon, it was no longer enough, and without conscious intent, she stepped even closer to him and relaxed completely against his aroused body.
"No," he whispered. His big hand dropped to her hip and gently moved her back. His mouth teased hers again. "This isn't the time or the place."
She looked up into his dark, patient eyes. "It makes me ache," she whispered, trying to put her feelings into words.
"Yes. Me, too." He drew his face against hers. Both hands slid over her breasts and gently caressed them. "You're like silk all over, aren't you?" he whispered. His mouth slid down her throat, over her shoulders and her collarbone. It eased down, down, until it suddenly opened on her soft breast. He touched it with his tongue, producing new and volatile hungers that arched Kit's body like a bow.
"Hold on, baby," he whispered roughly.
While she was trying dizzily to comprehend what he meant, his head lifted. For an instant, the coolness of the room was uncomfortable on the moist place he'd left on her skin. Then he burrowed against her, found the hard nipple, took it completely into his mouth and began to suckle it.
For a few seconds, Kit froze. Then she tautened until her muscles felt in danger of shattering. Her body arched and drew in and she pushed up against his mouth as if it were the source of life itself.
Her hands were in his thick, dark hair. They clung, trembling, as the fever he kindled burned high and bright. She shivered, and shivered again, and began to moan. He made a fierce sound and the suction grew harder, more insistent.
Something snapped in Kit's body. She shuddered as a wave of pleasure hit her right in the core of her body and convulsed her into utter satisfaction.
She couldn't stop trembling. Her legs were too weak to hold her up. Logan had lifted his head and was looking at her, but she was too busy trying to get her breath back and stop her heart from shaking her to bits
to notice. Gently he pressed her bare breasts against his equally bare chest, starting up new sensations as she felt the sexy abrasiveness of his body hair against her warm skin.
He held her cheek there, and under his muscular chest she could hear the irregular beat of his heart as he smoothed her hair back, and brushed soft kisses against her temple.
She thought that she could never look him in the face again. Her abandon had embarrassed and sickened her.
She tried to pull away, finally, but he wouldn't let her. He tilted her shamed face up to his eyes and searched it quietly. It was somehow more profound because he didn't speak. His fingers touched her face, cherished it, while he examined every facet of her from the chin up as if he'd never looked at her before.
"I'm plain," she said in a brittle tone. "You said so."
"You infuriate me at times. I say a lot of things I don't mean and you know it." His voice deepened. "You know me better than anyone else in the world does, except in one way. In the ultimate way."
Her cheeks burned with heat.
“I satisfied you, didn't I?" he asked, his voice soft and intimate. Her eyes fell and she couldn't speak. "Yes, I thought so. You're incredibly naive, Kit. You have no real comprehension of what sex is all about. Perhaps now you understand a little better how powerful a force attraction can be." He put a fist under her chin and tilted up her rebellious face. "I could have you right here, standing up," he said harshly. "And after the first five seconds, you'd be tearing the clothes away from our bodies for me. That's how much you want me."
"That's cruel," she choked.
"That's the truth." His hands framed her face. He bent and kissed her forcefully, roughly, and jerked his mouth away. "You'd walk to hell for me if I asked you to."
She stiffened in his embrace and her face turned deathly pale.
"This is why you left in the first place," he said huskily. "You had to get out because it was killing you to see me with Betsy! You love me!"
The truth of it was in her wide, wounded eyes, blue pools in the white oasis of her face. She looked at him as if he'd put a knife through her.
Until he'd said the words, he hadn't really known. But now he did, and suddenly the past three years fell into place. So much of his life was involved with Kit's. He'd fired her, but he hadn't really wanted her to leave. He'd missed her, ached for her company. Now he ached in another way, in a damned inconvenient way, and he'd just crossed the barrier between friendship and sex. And he'd compounded the error by doing it with a woman who was madly in love with him.
"I never used to be cruel," he said almost to himself. He winced as he searched her face. "Everything I say makes it worse, doesn't it?"
"Would you hand me a towel, please?" she asked dully.
"Of course." He turned away and removed one from the rack to give her. She wrapped it around her like a blanket and stood there, defeated, humiliated, drained.
"If you could make some excuse for me," she said, her voice so low that he had to strain to hear it. "A headache?"
"I can do that."
Her eyes closed, shutting him out. She wished she could go through the floor. What must he think of her now?
He drew her forehead to his chest and held it there, his expression troubled. "I'm sorry. I had no right to touch you like that."
She bit back tears. She didn't say a word, or yield an inch.
His teeth ground together as silvery waves of pleasure teased his body. Even the smell of her was enough to trigger it. "My God, I want to make love to you, Kit!" He choked.
She wanted it, too, but it was impossible. "You're engaged," she reminded him. "What happened...wasn't right."
He sighed heavily. "Yes, you're obsessed with doing the right thing, aren't you? I used to be, too, until Betsy came along and my glands all exploded. I'd been so busy making money and speculating on ways to make more that I'd all but given up women in the past six months, until Betsy walked in the door." He brushed his lips over her hair. "There you sat, waiting for me to wake up. But I turned the wrong way, didn't I?"
"You can't help loving someone."
She should know. But she was assuming he loved Betsy, and he didn't. He wanted her and the only way he could get her was to get married. Now, he wasn't sure that it actually was what he wanted anymore. He scowled as confused thoughts began to gnaw at him.
"Let me go, Logan," she said, tugging at his hands. "You'd better leave now."
He stared at her with undisguised longing. "If we were anywhere else, I'd ask you to come to bed with me. I could protect you, Kit. There'd be no risk at all."
She stared back, wavering. But there was Betsy, and sleeping with a man she wasn't married to was wrong. No. She couldn't do that. Her eyes fell.
"Even if that kind of thing is right for the whole rest of the world, it isn't right for me. I...I'm not made for one-night stands."
He watched her while he snapped his shirt buttons back up, his face taut and somber. "I don't think one night would be enough," he said. "You're starved for me, Kit. Not just hungry. Starved."
“I am not!" she said miserably, lifting wild blue eyes to his.
"If you're not," he replied quietly, "then explain to me how I managed to fulfill you just by putting my mouth to your breast. Or do you think it's a common occurrence for women?"
She felt her face go even whiter at the charge. “If you're implying that I'm wanton...!"
"Oh, yes, you're wanton," he said huskily. "Sexy as hell and heaven to kiss. I'd give my right arm to go all the way with you."
In that moment he looked as if he actually meant it. His posture was as intense as the way he was looking at her.
"You're engaged," she said sadly.
"Yes."
She felt cold. "I'm sure that...that Betsy attracts you just as much. And probably any experienced man could have made me feel the same as you just did."
"I wouldn't bet on it."
"Maybe I should ask Emmett..."
"I'll break your neck if I catch you so much as looking at Emmett!" he burst out, but returned to normal in a flash, his usual domineering, impatient, outrageous self.
"How interesting," she said calmly.
"You little fool, he's out of your league," he persisted, hating the very thought of her with his cousin.
"He wants to marry me. He said so."
Logan's lips compressed. He glared at her. "He can't have you."
She felt intimidated by the look he was giving her. He was bristling with bad temper, she thought, and felt an involuntary surge of compassion for him. He wasn't a bad man. He loved Betsy, that was all. Probably he was missing her, and Kit had been a stand-in. She felt sad, knowing that.
"Logan, you have your own life," she said gently. "Your own priorities. However I feel, and you don't really know," she emphasized, "Betsy should be your main concern right now."
His eyes narrowed in anger. “I can manage my own private life thank you."
"Good. Why don't you go and do it?"
"I might as well," he said irritably. He gave her one long, lingering look, and found that he had to force his legs to move. She’d been so sweet in his arms. But she was right. He had Betsy to think about. Touching Kit had been in no way honorable, even if it had been heaven.
He finally started toward the door. He didn't say another word.
He unlocked the door and didn't even bother to close it on his way out.
Much later, when Kit was in bed, Tansy came to check on her.
“Logan's outside howling at the moon," Tansy said. "He's utterly demolished half a glass of good Scotch whiskey. Your doing, I presume?"
"I, uh, we had a slight misunderstanding. He seems to feel that he can be engaged to Betsy and still make a grab for me if he feels like it," she said through her teeth, without elaborating on her own part in her downfall.
Tansy took one of Kit's hands gently in hers. "Let me tell you something you may not realize. In three years, you've been all Logan ever talked about w
hen he came to see me. It was always Kit said this, Kit did that. You've been his world all that time."
“Then why is he going to marry Betsy?"
Tansy let go of her hand and shrugged. "Who can fathom the mind of a man?" she asked. "I think perhaps he hasn't realized yet how much a part of him you are. Sometimes it takes a drastic change to make a man look a different way at something. I don't believe he's ever really seen you, Kit. How's that for irony?"
He'd seen her in ways she couldn't tell his mother, too. She didn't dare bare her soul that far. "If he marries that woman, he'll never recover," Kit said sadly. "But he won't listen. He just won't listen!"
"He's not going to admit that he made that kind of mistake, I'm afraid," Tansy said. "Logan never would admit to being in the wrong. Too, perhaps he resents having you try to nurture him. He likes to think that he's doing the nurturing. But Betsy is a bad woman, Kit," she added quietly. "A bad egg. I know the danger Logan is in. I just don't know what to do about it, short of having the kids kidnap Betsy." She frowned thoughtfully. "I wonder if I could get Emmett to bribe them...."
Kit laughed reluctantly at the thought of Betsy tied to a stake. “It's an idea."
“Kit, please don't give up on him," Tansy pleaded. "Chris and I are the love 'em and leave 'em type. But Logan is different. He's deep and when he loves, it's with everything he has, everything he is. A man like that who loves the wrong woman paves the way to his own destruction."
"Yes, I know," she said. "But if he loves her..."
"If he loved her, he wouldn't have been shut up in a bathroom with you for several minutes," Tansy said with a wicked grin.
"How...?"
"Those kids, how else?" Tansy sighed. "They were up here trying to take the doorknob off with a screwdriver when Emmett caught them. Don't worry." She chuckled at Kit's horror. "The walls are two inches thick, nothing gets past them. But if they'd managed to get the doorknob off, things would have gotten a bit interesting..."
Books By Diana Palmer Page 132