Logan wasn't really her husband. A few words spoken by a judge didn't mean anything. Their names signed to a certificate didn't make a marriage. It was what was in their hearts that counted. And she would keep her heart closed to him.
'So you enjoy nights like these, too?' Logan said softly, coming to stand behind her so quietly that she jumped violently. 'I didn't mean to frighten you.'
'I—I didn't hear you coming,' she gulped.
'I'm sure if you had, you'd have disappeared,' he said dryly.
Kathryn tried to move past him, but he caught her by the shoulders and turned her towards him.
'Don't go—please!' His voice was thick with emotion and her heart began to pound in her throat as she tried to shake off his hands.
'We really don't have anything to say to each other.' Her fingers tried to prise his hands loose, but he only seemed amused by her attempt to free herself. With deliberately slow movements he lowered his head and his mouth was unbearably gentle as his lips found hers. He easily drew her stiffly resisting body in a close embrace, and she willed herself not to give in to this gentle insistence. If she remained passive surely he would leave her alone.
His fingers tangled in her hair and he moulded her body closer to his solid strength. His lips were firm and warm as their breath mingled, and all at once Kathryn felt her traitorous body succumbing to his subtle demands. Passion flared between them, coursing through her in a hungry wave, and this apparent loss of control frightened her and she struggled against him, fighting her own desire as much as his.
'Don't, please,' she moaned against his mouth.
Logan continued to hold her close against him, but the quality of his kiss suddenly changed and became insulting as he demanded more of her. His fingers tightened in her hair as he grabbed a handful and dragged her head back to look her full in the face. His cold blue eyes glinted like hard steel. 'You're mine,' he said. 'You and Jon. My wife and my son.' His voice was unnaturally quiet as he hissed through tight jaws: 'Neither of you will ever leave me.'
'What are you talking about?' she gasped.
Before she realised what he was about to do, his fingers grasped the neck of her blouse and she heard the thin material rip, then he slipped his hand inside, cupping her breast.
'I want you, Kathryn,' he muttered. His voice changed then, became cajoling as he stroked her with long warm fingers. 'Let me love you. How can you pretend you don't want me? Do you think I can't feel what your body is telling me? Remember how it used to be all that time ago? Your eyes and your body promised me heaven, promised me everything. I could have taken you any time. But now—'
'Logan—please!' She was horrified by the pleasurable sensations running through her. She should have been repulsed, but he knew exactly what he was doing. A fine tingling feathered along her spine. He was a master at seduction. He must have known many women, not just her sister. The picture of him and Carol flashed again in her mind, bringing her back to her senses, and she struggled against him.
He jerked her head back roughly and she cried out in appalling pain as once again his lips, no longer gentle, took hers in a savage plunder, his hunger insatiable. Her mouth was bruised and all at once she could taste the warm sticky wetness of blood.
Her head was throbbing and she winced with pain when he finally let her go. She stepped back, staggering, trembling, her arms crossed in front of her in an effort to cover her breasts.
When Logan recovered himself he had the grace to look ashamed. His stood with his face averted, his hands at his sides, his breathing ragged. 'I'm sorry. I promised myself I wouldn't touch you until you came to me. I don't know why tonight—' He hesitated before adding: 'It won't happen again.'
Kathryn stood there with the heavy weight of her hair tangled in black disorder about her shoulders, a thin trickle of blood at her lips, her arms crossed in front of her, and Logan's eyes took on a glacial bleakness as he bowed his head and strode away in the direction of his house, leaving her looking at his powerful retreating back.
To her horror, a breathless yearning shivered through her and she knew that all he had to do was turn around and ask her to come to him and she would be his. She'd be whatever he wanted her to be, would do whatever he asked. He had given her every cause to hate him, but her treacherous heart betrayed her. All those years away from him didn't even begin to kill her love for him as she wanted them to. They merely intensified it.
'I can't love him. I can't. Oh, Logan!' she moaned over and over. Her whispers were lost in the stillness of the trees.
CHAPTER FIVE
Jon's birthday dawned bright and clear and warm, and when Kathryn looked in on him, he giggled mischievously from his bed.
'Happy birthday, darling,' she smiled, coming to sit beside him. 'I found something I thought you'd like to have.'
He scrambled from beneath the covers and, kneeling, wound his arms about her neck, laughing and embracing her. His face was warm and rosy, his black hair tousled from sleep. Planting a warm kiss on her cheek, he drew a little away from her and looked down at the small stuffed animal in her hands. It was a bear, not a new one, for one ear had been meticulously mended several times and the fur was worn in places, but it was obviously well loved.
'It was in the box of things your dad collected from Aunt Miriam's house for me,' Kathryn said with a small pang, remembering. 'This little bear came with us all the way from England when Aunt Miriam brought Carol and me to Canada to live with her. It was your mother's favourite thing.'
'You mean you had it when you were little like me?' Jon looked at the bear with shining eyes and held it reverently, missing the look of chagrin that ran across her face. He had misunderstood. A sudden sharp spasm of pain went through her and she knew she should tell him it was Carol's, not hers, just as he was Carol's son, not hers. But all at once a lump lodged in her throat and all she could do was swallow hard and gather him in her arms. Oh, Carol, your son is mine, isn't he?
As if Jon realised there was something else here, he clung to her and murmured softly: 'Thank you, Mom. It'll be my favourite too. I'll take care of him just like you did.'
It was a golden moment for the two of them in the big sunny bedroom done in shades of brilliant yellow deepening into beige and brown and burnt orange. The spread covering the narrow single bed was of umber silk matching the soft pile of the carpeting, and behind them were shelves with books and toy cars and wooden building blocks on them, and a big cork board on which Jon had pinned several crayon drawings of stick people representing Kathryn and his father and himself.
An invisible thread of love stretched from her heart to his, binding them together, and all at once she found it so very easy to forgive her sister and Logan for what she had seen that hot August night so long ago. This child had been the result of that union—she was sure of it. The bitterness of betrayal left her, and she looked at Jon with swimming eyes and a swelling heart and silently thanked Carol for him. 'I love you, my son,' she said softly.
Jon got up then and dressed in jeans and a bright blue shirt, and together they went downstairs to find Emma.
'Happy birthday, Jon,' she said, smiling at him from the kitchen doorway. 'I'll have breakfast ready shortly, but you'll have to have it in the morning room today. Your dad's in there waiting for you.'
Jon raced away, and Kathryn followed him more sedately, trying to ignore her sudden quickened heartbeat and the tensing of her stomach.
In place of his usual business suit, he was wearing slim-fitting Levi's and hiking boots and a blue checked shirt. The novelty of seeing him at that time of the morning held both Kathryn and Jon speechless. Usually he was gone before they were awake.
'Happy birthday, Jon.' He hugged his son briefly and merely nodded coolly to Kathryn, then turned back to the table and a nearly empty coffee cup. If he remembered what happened between them last night he didn't show it.
Jon beamed at his father and his eyes danced. 'Are you staying home today, Daddy?'
His
face softened involuntarily. 'I have to make a few phone calls later to check with Margaret— but yes, I intend to spend the day with you. That's why I've been working late all these nights—so I could take some time off and not feel guilty about neglecting the business.' He flicked an eyebrow in Kathryn's direction as she took a place at the table.
She looked up with a start. Oh, how she wanted to believe that! He hadn't been living it up with Margaret as she so jealously imagined. Her heart thumped and she couldn't stop the blood from singing in her veins. 'Jon and I planned a picnic in the woods today,' she said in a small husky voice. 'Is that all right with you?'
Logan turned the full force of an ice-blue gaze on her, roaming over her hesitant smile, then falling to her faded once-red gingham blouse and patched jeans. 'You're not dressed for anything else. It's always some type of solitary outdoor excursion for you, isn't it?'
The coldness of his voice shattered the air and she couldn't control the sudden flush of embarrassment sweeping over her, but she did manage to keep from making even more of a fool of herself by stiffening her shoulders and biting her lip rather than saying anything more. The rebuke was fitting. She had been a proud fool, rejecting the clothing he bought for her. The few things she had were a disgrace to him and an embarrassment. Why hadn't she admitted it before? All at once she wanted him to see her dressed in something beautiful. But with a sinking feeling, she knew it wouldn't make any difference now. The damage had been done. She still had her pride, but at what cost?
'Can we have a picnic, Daddy?' Jon wiggled in his chair, nearly upsetting his orange juice. 'This is going to be the best birthday I ever had!'
Kathryn reached out to put a restraining hand on his shoulder, but stopped with it in mid-air. A loud commotion came from the front of the house. A car horn was blaring and there was loud shouting. Whoever was ringing the doorbell kept his finger pressed against the button so long that the chimes set up a loud protesting discordant din. Her eyes flew to Logan in alarm, but he sat quite still as if he didn't hear a thing out of the ordinary.
'That'll be Paul,' he said with a smothered sigh. 'It's part of his image to make an entrance. Shall we go and welcome the prodigal son?' He pushed back his chair and started around the table.
A frown crossed Kathryn's face when she saw Jon cowering in his chair, and a sharp sense of calamity began to feather along her spine. 'What's the matter?' she asked gently.
He pressed his little white face into her side and clung to her. 'I forgot he was coming. I don't want to see him.'
'Jon!' She was shocked. 'Why not?'
He was trembling, and she looked up to Logan for an answer, but he looked right through her.
'I told you before,' he said harshly, 'you don't have to be afraid of your uncle.' His face was set in rigid lines as he stepped close, gathering Jon up in his strong arms, holding him tightly, protectively. 'You know your mother and I would never let anyone or anything harm you.' He threw a challenging look to Kathryn, daring her to deny it.
'But you're not my father!' Jon blurted out. 'Uncle Paul said he was. And he said the next time he came home he was going to take me away from you!'
Stunned, Kathryn could only gape at him in horror.
Logan gripped Jon hard and looked straight into his face. His own was dark with rage. 'He told you that before he left on his last tour?'
Jon nodded, and bravely wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands.
'Then you should have come to me instead of keeping it to yourself. I would have tried to help you understand what he meant. You were too young before, but you're older now and you must listen to me. It was a practical joke—and not a very funny one. Uncle Paul was only trying to tease you. Whatever else you believe, I'm your father. I am—do you hear me? And when I married Kathryn, she became you mother. No one can change that.'
Kathryn stared at them, not knowing what to think. Hesitating only an instant, she wrapped her arms around both of them so Jon was securely between them. 'Your daddy's right, Jon,' she whispered reassuringly. 'You're our son. You'll live here with us always and we'll never let anyone take you away from us. What would we do without you? Who would we go on picnics with if we didn't have you?'
Logan's eyes flickered when he looked at her over the top of his son's head. They widened, then flashed with a brilliant blue questioning spark. He opened his mouth to say something, but Jon let out a small relieved breath and spoke first. 'You really mean it, Mom?'
'Jon,' she said sternly in mock reproof but tempering it with a smile, 'I wouldn't lie to you and neither would your father. Ever.' Maybe it wasn't fair to say it with so much conviction, since she didn't really know what this was all about, but Jon's peace of mind was most important right now.
He gave her a watery smile and looked up at Logan. 'Then I don't have to go with Uncle Paul even if he says so?'
'Your uncle only wishes he had a son like you,' he said through his teeth, his face suddenly a sick grey. 'But he's not your father, and he had no right to tell you he'd take you away from me. We'll go and say hello and welcome him back—but you're our son and you'll always stay with us. Remember that.'
Jon blinked and shot them a wide relieved smile, accepting what he said with a sublime innocence before Logan set him on his feet. They each took one tiny hand and stood looking at each other in a long and eloquent silence. Kathryn was teeming with a hundred questions, but she knew they would have to wait. This was no time for explanations.
The racket had stopped by the time they reached the front hall and she saw Paul in the open doorway with his back to them, snapping out instructions to a uniformed chauffeur. He was much the same height and as thin as Logan was now, and he moved with an easy indolent grace as his hands swept the air with a flourish. He was wearing a dark blue suit that fitted his lean body to perfection all the way from his straight broad shoulders to the backs of his gleaming black shoes. Kathryn noticed his hair was a rich velvety black, sparsely flecked with silver just like Logan's. They must be near the same age, she thought for a fleeting moment, then Paul dismissed his chauffeur and turned to them.
All at once the floor rocked beneath her feet. All her breath left her in a rush and her heart began to roar in her ears. Ice raced up and down her spine in thin shuddering trickles, making her hair stand on end. All the colour drained from her face. She became rigid. Her mouth opened soundlessly and she gasped as her senses whirled.
Paul was thin but with more of a delicate leanness in place of Logan's hard muscularity, his face was unlined and colourless compared to Logan's swarthy tan, but there was no denying that the man standing in front of her oozing a practised oily charm was Logan's twin. Identical! Exact replicas of each other! She looked from one to the other in astonishment. Never had she seen two people look so much alike. Both were tall and broad. Both wore their wavy black hair stylishly long. Both had the same handsome face she loved.
So many things began to crowd into her mind: the bright glowing silver of moonlight, the scent of pine, the warm breeze of a remembered August night, dimly flashing bodies, the soft whisper of loving sounds. They began to spin, whirl, buzz through her head. Then she came back to the present with a start and saw Logan standing in front of her, staring oddly, and she heard Paul speaking.
'Happy birthday, son,' he said with a mocking smile glittering in his eyes. He ran a long-fingered hand across Jon's cheek before turning to Kathryn, ignoring Logan altogether. 'And who might this lovely lady be?' His blue eyes held a wicked glint when they stopped briefly on her mouth before sliding appreciatively over the gentle swell of her breasts straining against the faded gingham blouse to her slim waist and narrow hips in patched jeans.
'This is my mom,' said Jon in a clear voice, but he gripped her hand so tightly she felt it tingle.
Paul's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. 'I see. Just one big happy family, eh?' He reached out and took her ice-cold hand, kissing it in a grand manner that made her skin crawl. 'How do you do, sister-in-law?'
/> A hectic colour ran into her face, but she managed to keep her breathless voice controlled. 'Logan never told me you were a twin.'
'Didn't he?' He turned to his brother and she snatched her hand away from his caressing fingers with an instinctive aversion. 'You're slipping, old boy.' Underneath his suave charm she sensed a ruthless steel core, and the studied quietness of his next words confirmed it. 'If you think your having a wife makes any difference to my fight to claim Jon, you're sadly mistaken.' He looked again at Kathryn. 'Now why didn't my brother think to tell you he's a twin, I wonder?'
'I think of you only as a brother, not a twin, Paul, That should answer your question.' Logan inclined his head coolly and looked at Kathryn in a strangely searching way, then lifted his shoulders with irritation. 'You're just in time for breakfast. Let's not keep Emma waiting any longer. Kathryn? Paul?' He lifted Jon in his arms and stepped away from the doorway to let them precede him.
Paul put his arm out to her in a cavalier motion and Kathryn willed herself not to recoil from his touch. There was no reason for this aversion to him. He looked so much like Logan, yet there was a disturbing difference somehow. She kept staring at him, unable to look away. A twin! Could she have been mistaken all those years ago? Had it been Paul with Carol? A shudder ran through her. If that was true, why was he so insistent that Jon was his son?
Paul looked deeply into her eyes as if searching for something, and then all he said was: 'Ah-h-h,' as if inordinately satisfied.
By the time Jon had polished off his birthday breakfast of pancakes and sausages, he had regained some of his usual good spirits and sat very much at ease close to Kathryn in the bright sunny room. If anyone noticed her preoccupation or her lack of appetite or how she kept looking uncomfortably from one brother to the other, they didn't mention it.
Promises to Keep Page 7