Her T-shirt was still rucked up around her waist, and she thought as he reached for her that he’d just pull it back into place. But then he laid his hand against the bare skin just above her panties, and she felt as if she would drown in Logan’s heat.
Logan should have turned his back the moment Shani’s T-shirt slid into dangerous territory, should have let her right herself and make herself decent again. But the view of the creamy underside of her breast, the way the hem had caught on her nipple, giving him only the barest glimpse of her rose-dimpled areola, made his libido take charge. Without conscious thought, he was on that bed beside her, his hand spread at her waist, the soft warmth of her skin like paradise against his palm.
He could still put on the brakes. Didn’t have to lean closer. He had at least that much self-control. But with Shani’s soft lips parted, her gaze dropping to his mouth, her breath releasing in a sigh, dredging up willpower seemed like a ridiculous notion.
He only needed one small brush of his mouth against hers, just to see if her lips were as satiny as they looked. It didn’t have to go any further than that.
Her eyes fluttered closed as he lowered his head. He felt her hand on his arm, moving along the bare skin below the sleeve of his polo shirt. Her slender fingers wrapped around his biceps, burning into his skin.
He had only to ease his hand higher and he could run his thumb along the underside of her breast. Her breasts were small now, more petite than Arianna’s had been, but later, if the embryo transfer was successful, they would swell, grow riper, more luscious—
His rampant thoughts jolted to a stop as cold awareness slapped him in the face. Stumbling to his feet, Logan backed away from Shani. She stared up at him, her brown eyes wide and startled, her lips parted.
That was nearly enough to pull him back to her, but she tugged down her shirt and yanked the covers nearly to her chin. He could see the pink tinting her cheeks, could imagine how warm they would feel to his touch.
Her gaze slid away from him. “I have to study.”
He tried to order his thoughts, scrambling for something to focus on other than joining Shani in that bed. “I have to get to work.” He had no idea how he’d be able to concentrate on anything the rest of the day except Shani and what her mouth might have felt like.
She took the top book from the stack beside her and plopped it on her lap. Her gaze lifted to his and he saw the expectation in her eyes. He entertained a brief fantasy about what that look meant—that she wanted him close again, that she needed his touch.
But then her brow furrowed. “I need to study,” she said more firmly.
He gave himself a mental kick in the rear and turned away from her. “Mrs. Singh should be here any minute.”
As he walked back to the car, he wished he could rewind the last few minutes. Damn. How could he have been such an idiot, especially with so much at stake? It would serve him right if she refused to allow him unchaperoned visits with her for the next nine months.
As he slammed the Mercedes’ door shut, he spied the images of the blastocysts Shani had left on her seat. Staring down at the fuzzy gray images, Logan reflected that this was all that was left of his legacy with Arianna, a final fragment of their union. A clear reminder that he had to find a way to behave like a grown-up with Shani. And respect Arianna’s memory in the process.
Chapter Three
Once Shani finished the three days of bed rest, she dove back into her life, doing her best to forget what had nearly happened between her and Logan in her bedroom. Between her morning job at the university library, her afternoon classes and her Fridays and Saturdays at a local print shop, she had little time to dwell on that charged moment of intimacy. When thoughts of Logan did intrude, she redirected her mind to the three embryos growing inside her, sending them all the positive energy she could.
Six days after the embryo transfer, on Thursday, Shani reported to the fertility clinic for the first of two blood draws to be used for the initial pregnancy test. The clinic had frozen that first blood sample, then would compare it to this morning’s sample, taken two days later. The doctor would be checking the pregnancy hormone level in the blood sometime between one and two this afternoon and determine if it had risen sufficiently between the two draws.
Shani had gone directly from the clinic to the print shop, figuring she could keep her mind occupied with her usual Saturday routine. But as the morning wore on, she bounced between despair and joy as she waited to hear from Logan. As the father, he’d be notified first of the results of the pregnancy test, then she assumed he’d call her. Since she hadn’t seen him at all since the transfer, she wasn’t sure. For all she knew, she’d find a note on her apartment door when she got home…By the way, you’re pregnant.
By eleven, her distraction was driving her crazy. Closing her mind to everything else, she threw herself into the stock inventories and accounts receivable reports the owner had requested she take care of this morning. By the time she came up for air, it was one-thirty.
She could just imagine Logan’s disapproval if he found out she’d skipped lunch. As she dithered over whether to go next door to the little market for a snack or to go out to lunch, she heard the front door beep. Rolling her chair over to peek through the office door, Shani checked to make sure Roy heard the door chime. A few minutes ago, Roy had been buried in the bowels of a copy machine, trying to convince it to keep running until the repairman could get there.
She spotted Roy, hefting a full box of copy paper heading for the counter. He greeted the customer with a polite “How can I help you, sir?”
Except it wasn’t a customer. It was Logan, looking larger than life in well-fitted slacks and a dress shirt with rolled-up sleeves. Pacing the length of the counter, he looked past Roy, no doubt searching for her. Shani’s heart kicked into high speed in anticipation of whatever news he was here to deliver.
Rising from her chair, she stepped up to the counter. “Thanks, Roy. This is a friend of mine.” He wasn’t, really. But it was simpler than explaining her true relationship with Logan.
“Did the doctor call?” Shani asked, excitement making her voice thready.
But Logan seemed fixed on Roy lugging the box of paper to the copier. “Do you carry those? They must weigh fifty pounds.”
“That’s Roy’s job. I don’t carry boxes around.”
His fingers tightened on the edge of the counter. “I don’t want you lifting anything that heavy.”
“I don’t.” Shani took a breath. “What did the doctor say?”
He met her gaze finally, his hand slipping across the counter to cover hers. “The test was positive. You’re pregnant.”
She couldn’t hold back her smile or the burst of elation inside her. “That’s great. That’s wonderful.” She turned her hand to link her fingers with his.
“There was a good rise in the hormone level between the two samples.” His grip tightened. “You won’t need another test for ten days.”
She remembered that was a positive sign. “I’m so happy for you, Logan.”
“It’s early days yet,” he reminded her. “How many hours are you working?”
The sudden change of subject threw her for a loop. “Sixteen hours here, sixteen at the library.”
“We need to talk.”
“About the move to the guesthouse?”
“Another issue. Can you take a break?”
“I was about to leave for lunch.” Before he could scold her for waiting so long to eat, she added, “I lost track of time.”
“I’ll take you.”
Feeling uneasy about whatever Logan had on his mind, Shani grabbed her purse and followed him out to the Mercedes. They didn’t drive far, just a few blocks from the print shop to a crepe restaurant that was a favorite of Shani’s. The parking lot was packed, so Logan dropped her off at the door. Shani got them the last table for two available in the place, intimately located behind a potted plant in the back of the patio.
When L
ogan sat down, his wide shoulders shielded her from the crowded restaurant. It seemed far too cozy, and Shani wished she’d given the table to the couple who’d entered right after her. The nook in which the table nestled could have been their own private corner.
He waited to speak until after the waitress took their order. “I don’t like you working two jobs, don’t like the stress it might put on your body.” He flicked a glance over her, sending a shiver down her spine.
She ignored the sensation. “I can handle it.”
“I want you to quit working.”
The statement was so outrageous, she thought she must have heard him wrong. “What did you say?”
“Quit working,” he repeated. “I can’t ask you to stop attending school—”
“Darn right you can’t. And quitting my jobs was not part of our agreement.”
He lifted his water glass and took a drink. “I just want what’s best for the babies.”
“You know as well as I do that plenty of women work during their pregnancies,” she told him.
“This isn’t an ordinary pregnancy.”
The waitress set a basket of bread between them. The yeasty aroma should have been tantalizing, but the confrontation with Logan had stolen her appetite.
Nevertheless, she took a slice to give her hands something to do. “Has the doctor given you any indication that I shouldn’t remain employed?”
His gaze dropped to the table, giving Shani her answer. He took a slice from the basket and set it on his bread plate. “Arianna didn’t work.”
“Arianna didn’t have to,” Shani pointed out.
“And neither do you now,” Logan said. “You’ll be under my roof, under my care.”
“Doing what all day? Eating bonbons and watching soap operas?”
“You can focus on school.”
Even when she’d first given up her son, when she’d wanted to just curl herself up in a ball and lock out the world, she’d worked. She’d always paid her own way, and sometimes her family’s, as well, sending money home when her mother needed help with a doctor bill or her sister needed soccer shoes.
She wasn’t about to become a kept woman now. She fixed her gaze on Logan. “I’m not quitting.”
Irritation flickered in his face. “We can discuss this later.”
“No.” She slapped her hand over his, squeezing it to be sure she had his full attention. “Subject closed.”
“Damn it, Shani…”
He turned his hand, closing his fingers around hers. His blue eyes blazed with frustration, a hint of anger. Then both emotions faded, replaced by a different heat.
The first brush of his fingertips against her wrist she thought was a mistake, but when they drew along that tender skin again, she recognized the caress. Except Logan had no business caressing her. And she had no business enjoying it.
She pulled her hand out of reach, leaving him looking as startled as she felt. Too rattled to think straight, she blurted out a question she’d been rolling around in her mind these past two-plus months. “Why are you doing this?”
Color rose in his cheeks, and she realized he’d misunderstood her question. “Doing what?”
“Why have a baby at all?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“I got the impression from Arianna that she was the one who wanted children, not you.”
“She told you that?”
“Not in so many words.” Shani tried to remember what Arianna had said. He’s a hard man, Shani. Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing the right thing bringing children into this marriage.
He picked up his slice of bread and tore the crust from it. “I think we wanted children for different reasons.”
“Then why?” she pressed.
“Why ask this now?” he countered. “You’re committed. You can’t change anything. If my reasons don’t meet your approval—”
“I don’t approve or disapprove.”
“Then I think this subject is closed, as well.” He set down his bread, uneaten. “I’d like to move you to the cottage tomorrow. Is ten o’clock too early?”
“No,” she said, jolted by the door he’d slammed in her face. “Ten o’clock is fine.”
Because of the animosity between her and Logan, Shani had limited her visits to Arianna’s home in Sacramento’s Fabulous Forties district. They would meet at the college for lunch, at Shani’s apartment on evenings when Logan worked late or at a restaurant for dinner. Shani had never even seen the Granite Bay estate Logan had bought his wife a year before her death. She only knew that Arianna had never liked it, had never felt comfortable there.
As she followed Logan’s Mercedes from her apartment to the estate, Shani tried to imagine what the house would look like—some kind of fussy Tudor, maybe, with brick turrets and false timbering. Or a Greek Revival, with white columns and an imposing entryway.
She passed between the two massive oaks that flanked the gated entry to the six-acre property. The house, up on a hill and behind a thick cluster of oaks, wasn’t visible at first. It wasn’t until Shani’s car topped the last grassy rise that she got her first glimpse of Logan’s home.
Not a Tudor, or Greek Revival. Instead, it could have been a farmhouse in Iowa.
Granted, this farmhouse was bigger than anything standing in a cornfield back home. If there were as many bedrooms inside as the outside suggested, the place could house a large family and all their hired hands comfortably. Even still, its wide, inviting front porch, dormer windows on the second floor and fresh, white-painted clapboards gave her an immediate sense of homecoming.
They continued past the house to the guest cottage, separated from the farmhouse by an expanse of green lawn. She smiled with delight when she saw the cottage. It was a converted barn, styled like a miniature of the house, down to the dormer windows in the roof. The three Dutch doors that had once led to the stalls had been left in place, the upper doors replaced by windows. She could almost imagine the horses poking their noses out, hoping for a carrot.
She slid from her car. “It’s lovely,” Shani told Logan as he walked toward her.
Her compliment surprised a smile out of Logan. “I’m glad you like it.”
His patience at being confined to a cat carrier worn out, Seymour started yowling from the passenger seat. Intent on rescuing her cat, Shani shut the door and started toward the other side of the car.
As she stepped between the two vehicles, she nearly collided with Logan, busy pulling boxes out of the trunk of the Mercedes. “Sorry.” She sidled around him and rescued Seymour.
Two boxes stacked in his arms, he trailed after her to the cottage. “Since Mrs. Singh isn’t here, I’ve made dinner reservations for seven o’clock.”
She stared at his back as he set down the boxes and unlocked the cottage. “You know, I did manage to feed myself before you came along.”
“I can change it to seven-thirty if it’s more convenient.” He set the boxes down, then walked past her to get another load from the car.
Setting Seymour’s carrier down beside her, Shani turned to scan the cottage interior. A living room took up half of this end of the converted barn, a kitchenette and breakfast nook filled the other half. The dormers were set in the vaulted ceiling, sunshine spilling through them, lighting the space. She smiled, completely content with her temporary home.
Seymour was not quite so complacent. He yowled again, his golden gaze pleading for freedom through the metal grate of the carrier. “Okay, fuzz face, I’ll let you out,” she told the cat, then carried him to the bedroom. That cozy room had been carved out of the back of the barn and had a compact bathroom adjoining it.
Fishing through one of the boxes Logan had brought in, she found the litter pan and sand and set it up in the bathroom. With the bedroom door shut, she released Seymour, and watched for a moment as he crept from the carrier. She left him to sniff the bed.
Still with her eye on Seymour to make sure he didn’t escape the bedroom, she didn’t
realize Logan was on the other side of the door until she backed into him. Her suitcases dropped on either side of him as he reached up to steady her. She shut the door quickly to keep the cat in and found herself sandwiched between an unyielding doorjamb and a warm male body. Logan’s hands wrapped around her arms, his fingertips barely an inch from her breasts.
She could have easily shrugged away from him, broken the connection. But with the feel of his chest pressed against her back and her rear cupped deliciously against him, she couldn’t seem to move. She wanted to arch her neck, to lean back against his shoulder, to listen to his heart and see if his was beating as fast as hers.
Thankfully, he backed away. “I thought you’d want your suitcases in the bedroom.”
She dropped her gaze to the two pieces of baggage, uneasy about what she might see in his face. “We can leave them here. I just let the cat out.”
She finally lifted her gaze to his, and his intense blue eyes sent sensation tingling up her spine. “Shani…”
Just her name, in that low, deep voice. It was as much a caress as the touch of his hands. She could barely muster breath for a response. “Yes?”
Only a few feet separated them, still within reach if they both stretched out their arms. His hands opened as if he was about to do just that.
He took a step back. “We can’t do this.”
“No.” She shook her head for emphasis. “And what happened back at the apartment…”
“That was a mistake. I never should have…”
“I agree.”
“It was my fault,” he said. “It won’t happen again.”
“We’ll just forget it,” Shani said, “and go from here.” Except she had no idea if she could forget.
He backed toward the door. “I’ll pick you up at six-thirty, then.”
“No.”
His eyes flared wider. “Don’t be obstinate.”
“You said Mrs. Singh stocked the refrigerator. I’ll make myself something.” She put up a hand to forestall the argument she could see him about to launch. “I’m tired, Logan. I need some time to get settled in.”
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