One-Click Buy: December 2009 Silhouette Desire

by Susan Mallery

  The corners of the old man’s thin lips tilted upward in what appeared to be the beginnings of a smile.

  Logan rushed Alicia over to meet his grandfather.

  “Who is this beautiful lady?” Pierre demanded, his eyes sparkling at Alicia. When Logan introduced them, Pierre’s smile warmed. A few more moments of conversation had him beaming.

  “He’s enjoying your company immensely. Since Grandmère died, I’m afraid the dear old fella’s been lonely. And since his recent stroke, even lonelier,” Logan whispered a little later. “Stay here and keep him happy a few minutes longer, while I get you something to drink, why don’t you?”

  “My pleasure,” Alicia replied in a low voice. “I’m having fun, too. You favor him, you know.”

  “Chardonnay as usual?”

  When she nodded in that agreeable way he found so calming, he released her elbow, nudging her a little closer to his grandfather.

  Logan was on his way to the bar that had been set up in the main salon, when an uproar in the ballroom caught his attention and he turned.

  At the sound of Cici’s merry laughter coupled with the deeper notes of Jake’s deep baritone, Logan abruptly pivoted, changing course. But when he saw Cici in a shimmering metallic sheath, her voluptuous body wrapped tightly in Jake’s arms, Logan froze just outside the doorway. For a long moment Logan couldn’t take his eyes off his tall, leanly muscular brother and Cici.

  As the couple moved to the heavy beat of the music, he couldn’t stop watching them.

  Was he over-reacting or was she going after his brother now?

  Whatever her motivation, Logan, who’d long regretted his past actions to both her and Jake and wanted reconciliation with his twin, suddenly felt like strangling him.

  “That’s some outfit.” A man’s voice from inside the ballroom said.

  “Who are you kidding? You and every other man are looking at her legs,” a woman said.

  Logan clenched his fists.

  “He’s been gone nine years.”

  “The prodigal grandson. What made him come back?”

  “Need you ask?” the man said. “She’s hot.”

  “You should have seen how happy Pierre was when Jake showed up. The old man wept. So did Jake. It was so touching.”

  Hell.

  Logan’s angry gaze flicked from Cici to his dark, broad-shouldered brother, who looked too tough and strong to ever cry. Still, their grandfather’s sentimentality must have affected him. Or maybe it was hard for Jake to see how much older and frailer Grandpère was.

  Suddenly Logan wondered if Cici might be right in her handling of Grandpère. He was clearly thrilled about his party. Maybe the old man needed more independence and responsibility and activities rather than less. Logan had thought the old man required quiet and rest and more medical attention, but Grandpère acted like he was bored with quiet and rest. Instead of retiring to an assisted living facility, he seemed to want his active life back. He’d said he wanted to return to the office. Was that really what he should do?

  “Has she interviewed you for her book?” the man standing in front of Logan asked his companion.

  “Next week. We’re having her to lunch. Oh, and she’s bringing Pierre.”

  “He came with her when she interviewed me as well. She’s loads of fun.”

  “The old man’s crazy about her,” the woman said. “And no wonder. She pays attention. She listens. And, yes, she’s fun. It’s horrible the way old people are so neglected. I don’t think the poor fellow knew what to do with himself when his stroke forced him to retire. He said he got pretty gloomy until she showed up.”

  Jake pulled Cici close, and her laughing gaze swung to Logan. When their eyes met, Logan felt like he’d been sucker-punched.

  He wasn’t jealous.

  Then the music stopped, and luckily he still had enough presence of mind to remember Alicia. He was turning to go after her wine, when a small, smooth hand with garish, red nails closed over his arm from behind him.

  “You’re late,” Cici whispered against his ear, her breath as hot and soft as the satiny caresses of those searing fingertips. Her face was young and as open as it had been when she was a child.

  “It was raining in New Orleans. We had trouble getting out of the city,” he said.

  “I missed you. So did Pierre.”

  “Not that that stopped you from burning up the dance floor with my brother.”

  “Jealous?”

  “Of course not.”

  “You are,” she whispered gently, her eyes seductively aglow. “You don’t need to be.”

  “What?”

  “It’s your turn. To dance with me. But, hey, only if you want to.” Again, her darkly sparkling eyes lured him.

  “I have a date.”

  “Alicia? The merger girl?”

  “That’s not why I’m dating her.”

  “Of course.”

  “I left her entertaining Grandpère. I promised her a glass of wine. I’d better go.”

  “I’m sure your grandfather is enjoying her immensely, and she him. Jake can check on her.”

  “Cici, no…”

  But she had already run over to Jake and was tugging at his long white sleeve. As his twin’s dark head lowered over Cici’s springy curls, his estranged brother looked up and then past her to Logan. Jake’s eyes grew as hard and unforgiving as they’d been right before he’d slugged him and walked out. But when Cici finished talking to him, Jake turned and obediently headed out the other door, no doubt to avoid him on his way to find Alicia.

  Cici returned and threaded her fingers through his.

  “There’s something wrong about this situation,” Logan said. “I should check on Alicia myself.”

  “Trust me. This is a party. We’re supposed to mingle a little. She came here to meet your family, didn’t she? And your Alicia will love Jake. I promise. He’s a do-gooder. She’s a do-gooder.”

  “How the hell do you know so much about Alicia?”

  “Research. I’m a journalist, remember.”

  She pulled him onto the dance floor. “Besides, what can one little dance hurt?”

  Had the snake said to Eve, “What can one little apple hurt?”

  Probably.

  When the music resumed, he crushed Cici more tightly to him.

  Even with the help of her heels, she barely came up to his shoulders. Maybe it was because she was so small and petite that her long-lashed eyes seemed so vulnerable.

  He liked tall, elegant women, he reminded himself. Women who wore classy, backless gowns.

  But Cici looked fresh and wholesome, and her eyes sparkled in such a way that she appeared young and playful.

  He wasn’t supposed to be thinking admiring thoughts about her he reminded himself. He was supposed to be trying to figure out how to get rid of her.

  But it was hard to think when the effect of her body brushing against his was so electrifying. It became even harder after the music took over, and the pleasure of holding her and dancing with her stripped him of his last shred of his reason. When the first song ended, she didn’t let go of him, so neither did he. One tune after another, they kept dancing. Pillars swirled past, as did the faces of those in the crowd watching them, for Cici and he were fast becoming the center of attention now.

  Eyebrows were arched. Curious glances followed them. Not that Logan cared. At one point Jake even tried to cut in, but Logan ignored them all.

  With each dance, Logan held Cici closer, bound her tighter, and slowly, irrevocably the voltage between them grew so strong it charged every atom in his body.

  By the fourth song her eyes were closed, her cheek pressed against his shoulder, her body fused warmly to his.

  When the music stopped, he was rock hard. Opening his eyes, he saw Alicia, who’d been watching them earlier, leaning on Jake’s arm.

  “I’ve got to go after Alicia,” he murmured, but his husky voice lacked passion for the task.

  “Yes, you r
eally should,” Cici agreed, curling a fingertip into his hair. Then another song started, and her body swayed against his. “One more dance?” she whispered as Jake turned and left the room, pulling Alicia with him.

  “I’m sorry. I really do have to go to my date. I don’t know what came over me. I really meant to…to stop after one dance.”

  “Me, too.”

  He bowed before leaving Cici in search of Alicia, who should have been easy to locate in her stunning, backless gown. Since she’d just left, she couldn’t have had much of a head start.

  But neither Alicia’s slender back nor Jake’s broad shoulders were anywhere to be seen.

  Logan was standing at the front door about to ask the valet parkers if they’d seen his brother when his grandfather hobbled up, leaning heavily on his cane.

  “Lost your date?”

  “I was just about to ask the valet parkers if they’d seen her.”

  “Alicia wasn’t feeling well, so Jake drove her home. She told me to tell you not to worry about her, that it was just a headache.”

  “Thanks Grandpère.”

  “Is everything all right?”

  Before Logan could answer, an older woman cried, “I see our birthday boy! Time to open your presents!” Then a bevy of women spilled out onto the gallery, encircled him and led him away.

  When Logan dialed Alicia’s cell phone, Alicia, who always picked up on the first ring, at least when he called her, didn’t answer.

  She had caller ID. His instinct told him she was deliberately avoiding his call. Not that he could blame her. He hadn’t intended to dance with Cici more than once.

  A mist was rising up from the swamp, its curling wisps threatening to envelop the grounds and soon the road with damp. If he was going after Alicia, and he was, he’d be smart to leave now before it was impossible to see. But suddenly, through the veils of mist, he thought he glimpsed a dim light come on in the top rooms of the garçonnière.

  Had he driven Cici from the party, too, the party she’d been so excited about and had worked so hard on? Jolted from his original purpose, he took a step into the mist and then another toward the garçonnière.

  He knew he really should go after Alicia and make sure she was all right, and he would, but first he’d tell Cici goodbye and encourage her to rejoin the party.

  A waiter came up holding a tray of champagne flutes. Logan took two. Slugging them, he smiled before replacing the flutes on the man’s tray. Then, carefully, so that nobody saw him, he backed into the shadows and left the gallery.

  Only when he was well away from the house and concealed by the mists, did he sprint across the thick lawn in the direction of the garçonnière. This time, when he reached the top of the stairs and was breathless from running, he knocked. When she didn’t answer immediately, instead of barging inside as before, he forced himself to pace the landing.

  When she still didn’t answer, he beat his fist against the door again and yelled her name. “I know you’re in there!”

  “Coming,” she said at last.

  Still, it was several more minutes before she finally pushed her door open. Not that she even looked at him. Busy dressing, she bent her head and shrugged into a black T-shirt.

  “Wonderful party,” he said.

  She wore the black T-shirt and dark jeans, but because she’d only lit a single lamp and the garçonnière was full of shadows and her body was back lit, revealing her slender shape which seemed so sexy, he sucked in a breath.

  “I’m sorry I made trouble between you and your date,” she said, turning away as she tucked the T-shirt into her jeans.

  He inhaled sharply again. “That was my fault,” he said, feeling awkward around her.

  When he jerked his eyes from her body, he saw her dress on the floor where she’d tossed it, the garment sparkling up at him as if with wicked glee.

  Cici, her slim back to him now, was squatting on her haunches—well-shaped haunches encased in tight black denim, too. Leaning over, exposing more of her delectably rounded butt, she began to dig through the chaos of her shoes that spilled out of her closet into her bedroom.

  Heat engulfed him, which was ridiculous. He was thirty-five, not some lust-driven teenager. Still, his heart began to slam in slow, painful strokes.

  Ignoring him, she shoved bare toes into a jogging shoe and then began rummaging for its mate.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

  “I’m taking the pirogue out in the swamp.”

  “At this time of night? Are you crazy?”

  “What does it look like?”

  “You’re supposed to be Grandpère’s hostess.”

  “I’m supposed to be a lot of things.” She was trembling as she threw her shoes about. “Thanks to you, I need some air. Some space. Lots of it.”

  So Alicia wasn’t the only woman he’d upset. He stepped into her bedroom. “I don’t want you out there. All alone. In danger.”

  “Since when is my putting myself in danger any of your business?”

  “There’s ground fog. You could get lost.”

  “Isn’t that what you want? Me gone? So, big deal! I’m going!”

  “Anything could happen.”

  “So? I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.”

  “Something might eat you.” So, he was probably exaggerating. Still…

  “Hey, there. If this scares you I won’t tell you about the time I had a pilot drop me off at the Zambezi River on a dirt strip, and my contact didn’t show up because he’d been gut shot and was on an operating table. The plane flew off, and I was all alone in a jungle and lions were roaring.”

  She laughed and then stopped. “Sorry.” She paused. “If I’m feeling a little hysterical, it’s because I’m a lot more scared of you than I could ever be of the swamp I practically grew up in. You were right. I shouldn’t have come back. But now that I’m here, I’ve got to figure out how to deal with what I’m feeling. I think best in the swamp.”

  He swallowed. “Cici, the reason I followed you out here is because I don’t want my actions to ruin the party for you.”

  “Oh, really? Is that why?” Again she laughed, but not gaily.

  “I shouldn’t have danced…”

  “Do you think you can lie to yourself and to me forever? You want me. I could see it and feel it on the dance floor. I can feel it now, too. You’re wondering if we’re still as good together as we were in the past.”

  “Why do you always push?”

  “Is it me pushing? Or is it something inside us?”

  He turned away from her.

  “Something like sex,” she said. “Let’s be honest. You’re a man, so, naturally, you want sex, and you think you don’t stand a chance tonight with your Alicia, who’s probably mad as hell at both of us—and I don’t blame her. You think it’ll be easier to get it here from me than from her. Plus, it’ll be of the no strings variety, ’cause you’re who you are, and I’m who I am. And no strings and something strange is just the thing to tempt most men…especially hypocrites, like you, who can’t even admit what they feel.”

  “No, listen…”

  “No, you listen! Why don’t you do us both a favor and go chase your tame Alicia, who’s so perfect for you? I’m sure she’s more than willing to believe any lie you choose to tell her.”

  “I don’t care about Alicia,” he whispered, shocked by the truth of that statement even as he said it. “I want you. Not her. There! I admitted it! Are you happy?”

  “You’d say anything—”

  “I want you! I’ve tried not to.”

  When Cici stood up, both shoes on now, he had to strain to see her expression in the dim light. “You tried not to? How do you think that makes me feel? We’ve done this before. We made a lot of people miserable, including ourselves.”

  “And I thought you liked living dangerously.”

  “Not tonight. Not with you. Sure, in the past I’ve taken a few risks. Mostly because I was too foolish and y
oung to know what I was doing. Like that time I was telling you about in Zimbabwe. That happened just after…after you’d dumped me and…and I’d left.”

  The incredible pain in her eyes hit them hard. “But this is different. Maybe I’ve had my fill of my heart being broken. Maybe I just want to write for some local newspaper and settle down to a simple, predictable life with a nice boring guy who loves me and is sweet to me. Maybe I’ve finally realized that what I want, which is happily ever after with some boring guy, is impossible with you.”

  He leaned his shoulders back against the jamb of her door. She’d given him his out. He should take it.

  “So, like I said, go. Do us both a favor, and spill your heart out to your pretty, proper, rich Alicia. Like I said, she’ll forgive you.”

  When he said nothing, she took a step toward him. “Damn it, go!” When he didn’t, she took a quick breath.

  He stared at her, willing himself to do as she said and go. But he couldn’t.

  The tension built until the humming in his blood was so loud he was afraid she could hear it. Finally, he crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. The instant his hands wrapped her, she shivered, her heat and passion flowing through him like a contagion. Pulling her closer, he shuddered.

  “Go,” she whispered huskily even as her hands clung to him. “You’re scaring me.”

  “You didn’t used to be afraid of anything.”

  “Not even of hungry lions.” She laughed weakly.

  “Funny, I value my life so much now that I’m afraid to pick up my camera, afraid of you…afraid of feeling all this…”

  She didn’t look afraid. Her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes glowed. Every inch of her felt electric and silky and hot.

  “I’m afraid of dying now… I think because I want to live so much,” she said.

  The mists were seeping into her wide-open windows, swirling around them. In the distance he could hear the mating cry of a wild bull alligator in the swamp.

  “Kiss me,” he said, his voice rougher, needier.