Propelling her closer and closer to that magical edge. Making her entire body fizzle and ignite. And then he did something incredible with his hand, some twist and flick, and suddenly she was soaring. Shattering into a thousand pieces and raining down in a shower of colour and light.
Like nothing she’d ever known before. And Kat thought she might stay up there for ever.
* * *
Logan didn’t think he’d ever been turned on so much in his life, watching Kat Steel come apart at that moment.
It had to be the most beautiful sight in the world, from her shocked, bright face to the white-hot heat on his fingers. And those naughty, ragged sounds were making him so incredibly hard that it was almost painful.
All he wanted was to be able to do it to her all over again. A part of him feared he would never be able to get enough of it.
But that was a concern for another day. Another night. Right now, he just wanted to be inside her.
Flipping them both around so that she was on her back on the couch with him between her legs, Logan slid his hands to grip the waistband of her trousers, wanting to lower his head and taste for himself what he’d just done to her.
And then, when he’d made her come part all over again, he would slide inside her and topple them both off the edge.
He was just about to slide her trousers down when she struggled upright and stilled his hand.
‘What about Jamie?’ she croaked hoarsely.
It was like a blast of cold air, and he had no idea how managed to stop himself. But he didn’t trust himself to speak.
‘He might come down the hall,’ she continued after a moment.
But he thought that reminder was more for herself than for him, and he liked the fact that she was nowhere near to being in control. Certainly no more than he was.
‘There’s a baby gate,’ Logan ground out, as he pulled her up into a more seated position and then proceeded to sort his clothing out. ‘And we’d hear him.’
‘Oh, I didn’t...’ She paused, stilling in her actions. ‘I wasn’t saying...you know, stop. I just—’
‘We have to stop,’ he cut in before she could say anything more. ‘This is entirely inappropriate.’
Her eyes clouded over, a sort of shame flitting through them, and he hated that he made her feel that way, but he couldn’t do a thing about it. If he started to explain it to her, he feared he might give in to temptation. Give in to her.
He didn’t want to take her on the floor of his living room like they were a pair of sexed-up adolescents. And he certainly wasn’t about to take her to his bedroom and have her stay the night when his four-year-old son was in the apartment.
Or at all, a voice rang out belatedly.
But either way it was a loss of control.
He was a father, not a single man. His only responsibility was to his son, and not bringing back random women to their home.
Except that Kat wasn’t random. And Jamie adored her. But none of that was reason enough to let her stay the night and confuse Jamie when he woke up in the morning to find her there.
So, if he couldn’t seem to control himself around this woman, there seemed to be only one other solution.
As if she could read his expression, Kat licked her lips nervously.
‘You want me to go home?’
‘I think that would be for the best.’
He sounded like a jerk, but that was just too bad. He could still taste her, smell her. And she was driving him crazy with need.
If he softened towards here, even for a moment, he feared he might be too tempted to finish what he’d started.
‘I’ll call a cab for you.’
* * *
Kat could feel the hot prickling behind her eyes, and it was a battle to hold her head up. To square her shoulders.
She could not let Logan see how humiliated she felt, or how much his rejection stung.
How it played on insecurities she wished she could stuff down.
After all, how could Logan’s rejection compare to when Kirk had called off their engagement, throwing the one argument at her against which she could offer absolutely no possible recourse? Kirk had wanted kids of his own—real kids of his own, he’d said. He’d meant biological, and that had only driven his barbed little knife home all the deeper.
Of all people, she’d thought Kirk was the one person she could always rely on. They’d met as kids. Two fifteen-year-olds sitting on a ward, staring out of the window to the parkland beyond, watching normal kids do normal things whilst they were attached to a gamut of drips and needles.
They’d endured it all together. A team. Understanding things no normal, healthy kid could ever have appreciated.
He was the one person she had thought would always stand by her. Or, if he’d had to leave her, it would have been because they’d grown apart.
She would never have expected him, of all people, to have been so cold-hearted.
So cruel.
He’d made her feel worthless. Undesirable. Valueless. And she had let him, because he had been the one person who’d known exactly which buttons to press to hit every single one of her crippling insecurities. Every single fear they had ever talked about on those wards when life and death had been such everyday topics. When you walked into a room, scanned it, and worked out who wasn’t there any more.
Clenching her fists, Kat indulged a little in the sense of anger. Because it was either that or fall back into the sea of self-loathing that had almost drowned her for years, until she’d found a way to pull herself out by her fingernails.
She wasn’t about to let this man—a relative stranger, for goodness’ sake—see how his words sliced through her. She was stronger than that.
Even if she wasn’t, coming to Seattle was supposed to be her chance to reinvent herself.
Fake it until you make it—wasn’t that what she’d told herself?
Straightening her shoulders, she made herself look Logan in the eye.
‘I don’t need a cab, I’m perfectly capable of walking.’
‘Not at this hour,’ he scoffed, but something flashed across his expression.
If she hadn’t known better, she might have thought it was care. Then again, the guy was a decent human being. Just because he didn’t want to...be intimate with her, it didn’t mean he wanted to see her walk the streets alone at night.
‘I only live a short walk away.’ She tried to smooth her tone into something less prickly. ‘The other side of the park.’
‘Far enough for a cab,’ he repeated, and Kat didn’t know if it was the way he moved, or the tone he took, or a combination of the two with something else entirely, but she suddenly discovered that she didn’t much care to argue with him.
There was something utterly focussed about him. Just like when he’d come into the ER on top of the VIP patient, saving his life.
When Logan Connors made a decision, she didn’t imagine he was used to backing down.
She pitied anyone who tried to counter him on that hospital floor.
Kat forced a smile.
‘Fine, a cab sounds like a good idea. Thanks.’
And it gave her a tiny victory that she now knew more about Logan Connors than she suspected he knew about her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘WHAT HAVE WE GOT?’
As Logan stepped around the curtain to the consult bay, Kat snapped her head around for a split second, her eyes widening before resuming a professional demeanour in front of her patient.
But he didn’t miss the tell-tale staining of her cheeks, or the way her hands shook, and he hated it that he was the one who’d caused it. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, thought he knew that had been the result.
So, after his loss of control the other night, he had determined to stay away from the temptation that was Kat.
But he hadn’t taken account of them having to work together. The least he could do was keep things strictly professional.
Dragging his eyes from her, he made himself focus on their patient. The guy was clearly in pain, but trying to stay tough. Kat edged a little further around the bed, enabling Logan to see for himself.
‘Dean is twenty-four. He was out in the woods with his mates when stepped on a small animal trap.’
‘It’s bad, man,’ the young man groaned.
‘Yeah, I can see that.’ Logan nodded, moving to assess the guy. ‘I don’t think you’re going to need a surgical consult, but we’re going to need to get it off now. The longer it cuts off circulation, the worse it can be.’
‘Right,’ Kat agreed uncertainly.
‘Keep your hands clear for now, but you’re going to move his foot as soon as it’s free.’ He indicated a part of the trap. ‘I’m going to prise the jaws apart on three. You ready, Dean?’
Dean grunted in some semblance of agreement.
‘Okay, here we go. One. Two. Three.’ He pulled the jaws back and as the patient bellowed in pain, Kat quickly lifted his foot out of the way.
‘Good. Nice,’ Logan announced brightly, after examining the wound. ‘All right, let’s you get you cleaned up, stitched up and out of here, Dean.’
‘What were you doing in the woods anyway?’ Kat asked, keeping his mind distracted as Logan prepped the area.
‘We were going to cut down a Christmas tree, you know? We share a house and money’s tight and, well...’
‘It seemed a good idea at the time?’ Kat asked.
‘Yeah, man.’ He winced at the pain, but tried to smile at her. ‘You think we’re idiots, right? I bet your tree is all up and nice.’
‘I don’t think that at all,’ she told him gently. ‘And, no, I haven’t got around to putting a tree up this year.’
‘Yeah, but you will?’
‘Sure. On my next day off.’
She sounded so offhand, so casual. Was it only him who could read that undertone of sadness? He wanted to understand. To know Kat better. And that realisation should worry him a hell of a lot more than it did.
He listened to their easy conversation as he finished up, then sorted out the paperwork for Dean before finally finding himself alone again with Kat.
‘You’re not intending to put up a Christmas tree at all, are you?’ he asked without preamble.
So much for sticking to the strictly professional.
‘Sorry?’ She stared at him in shock.
‘You told that young man you’d put up the tree on your next day off.’
‘Ah, right.’ She cast him a wary look but he liked it that she wasn’t even trying to perpetuate that particular lie. ‘I don’t know. I thought I might not bother this year.’
‘Nothing at all? Not even a mini fibre optic thing?’
He was teasing her, despite his cautions to keep his distance. She got under his skin far too easily. And he wanted her with a hunger that just seemed to keep growing.
‘What’s this about, Logan?’ she demanded, her voice tight. ‘One minute you’re trying to throw me out of your apartment door in disgust. The next you’re doing...this.’
‘I wouldn’t say in disgust.’
‘I would,’ she bit back, doing a good job of hiding the shake in her voice.
Just not quite good enough.
‘If there was then it was disgust at myself. Not you.’
‘For doing what you did with me,’ she emphasised.
Everything screamed at Logan to walk away. To let her think that. Because if she did, then she wouldn’t want anything more to do with him. And God knew he was doing a lousy job of keeping away from her.
He hadn’t been this out of control with a woman since those first few months with Sophia. Had he really not learned his lesson from her?
Instead, he found himself grabbing Kat’s shoulders and hauling her around so that she had no choice but to face him.
‘Let’s get one thing absolutely clear, shall we?’ he ground out. ‘Any disgust I felt was at losing my head with you on the floor of my blasted living room. With my four-year-old son in the apartment. It was not at you. Or at what we did.’
She blinked, and he could see the glistening in her eyes even as she tried desperately not to show it.
He wanted to say more. To reassure her further. He could have told her that he’d regretted his decision even before her taxi had left. That he hadn’t been able to sleep all night, thinking about her. Imagining her. Fantasising about how things would have gone if they hadn’t stopped.
But beyond that he wanted to tell her how she made him feel that he wasn’t quite so alone. For the first time in a long time he’d felt carefree. Not weighed down by the task of trying to be both mother and father to his precious little boy. She had brought a renewed sense of fun into their lives.
He wasn’t going to say any of it, though. He wasn’t going to make things any more complicated.
‘Jamie and I are going ice skating tonight.’ The words were out before he could think about it. His mouth evidently choosing to ignore the commands the logical part of his brain was trying to issue. ‘Join us?’
‘Ice skating?’ Kat echoed weakly.
‘That’s what I suggested.’ He grinned, as though it was the most natural thing in the world to invite this woman to spend the evening with him. With Jamie.
Jamie like her, and as long as he managed his son’s expectations, surely it couldn’t hurt?
‘Ice skating?’ she repeated.
‘Yes, in the park. For Christmas.’
‘I...don’t know.’ She glanced away uncertainly, and he felt even more of a cad.
He needed to walk away.
‘Call it my apology,’ he pressed her.
‘An apology.’
‘I enjoy spending time with you, Kat. And Jamie certainly enjoys it.’
Her face softened.
‘He’s adorable,’ she told him. ‘No thanks to you.’
She was teasing him, or trying to. He fought to keep the grin off his face.
‘Ice skating, then?
‘Sounds lovely, but...’
She tailed off and as hard as he tried to stop his errant mind from wandering back down that path—from recalling just how perfectly mouthwatering she’d looked, tasted, half undressed, on his lap the previous night—it was impossible.
God, how he still wanted her.
Logan shifted. He felt edgy, waiting for her to agree. The air between them was beginning to take on that close, electric feel again, and he found he welcomed it.
It was far better than the distance between them.
‘Unless you don’t like ice skating, of course.’ He suddenly decided to try a different approach. ‘Maybe you don’t like sporty activities.’
‘I love sporty stuff,’ she bristled, just as he’d known she would.
He ought to ask himself how he knew just what to say to push her buttons. Instead, he pretended to her—to himself—that this was news.
‘Plus, I’m doing the Santa fun run.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘So that’s something sporty and something Christmassy.’
‘Indeed it is.’ He arched one eyebrow and was rewarded with a glare.
A flash of her old feisty self. And he found he welcomed that, too.
‘You played me,’ she accused.
Logan shook his head.
‘I wouldn’t say that exactly. But I think it could be fun tonight. And I know Jamie would love to see you again.’
She eyed him strangely. He squirmed a little under the scrutiny. Another unusual response—since when did people make him feel...unsettled?
‘Just Jamie?’ she asked softly, at last.
The question caught him off guard. He knew th
e answer. Worse, he didn’t like it. So he did the one thing he did best.
He took back control.
‘It isn’t a date, Kat.’ He didn’t know if he was reminding her or himself.
Still, he wasn’t prepared for her to narrow her eyes at him and fold her arms over her chest.
Presumably she didn’t know how it emphasised those perfect, soft breasts of hers.
‘Rules, Logan,’ she insisted.
He was irritated and intrigued all at once.
‘What kind of rules?’
‘It’s an outing with your son. It’s not a date. There will be nothing like what happened last night.’
‘Suits me,’ he agreed without a second thought.
And yet the moment the words were out, he hated the very sound of them. He shouldn’t. It made sense.
‘Listen, Kat, Jamie and I will be at the park rink from three p.m. Do you want to give me your address or will we just see you there?’
She bit her lip, clearly torn between wanting to join them and the same caution after the previous night. But then she lifted her eyes to his and he could have sworn something crackled through the space between them.
‘Fine.’ She nodded slowly, as if she couldn’t help herself even though it went against all her instincts. ‘I’ll meet you there.’
* * *
Kat stared at the bustling ice rink and told herself that she didn’t know why she’d agreed to come.
Only it wasn’t true.
She knew exactly why she’d agreed to come. Logan Connors. He had such an effect on her that she was doing all the things she’d thought she wouldn’t be doing this year. Not now that Carrie was no longer in her life.
She’d been dreading Christmas. Dreading the sight of the trees, which she’d imagined going to see with Carrie, dreading the festive songs that she’d envisioned teaching the little girl, and most of all dreading Christmas Day. Alone.
She’d come to Seattle to be as far away as possible from her old home and memories of the little girl she’d raised from a baby to four years old. She’d imagined retreating into herself for a while, and throwing herself into work whilst she took time to heal.
The Bodyguard's Christmas Proposal Page 9