Lowering his voice and his head, Randy patted her hand. “I’ll give you a small sample of each. I do want you to come back again.”
Her head came up, and she looked at the classically handsome young man sitting next to her. Randy Bell was cute—almost too cute for a man because his delicate features were better suited on a woman. His coloring was a rich shade of chestnut brown. It was the perfect contrast for his large dark eyes, silky black sweeping eyebrows, and his close-cut curly hair. What surprised her on close examination was that Randy’s hair wasn’t black or dark brown, but a deep auburn. At first she wondered if he lightened it, but dismissed that notion when she saw the short red hair on the backs of his hands. And like herself he also claimed a light sprinkling of freckles over the bridge of his narrow nose.
She arched a delicate eyebrow. “I’ll be back.”.
Randy smiled. “I’ll be looking for you.” He patted her hand again, then stood up and walked back to the kitchen to place her luncheon order.
Caryn smiled at his retreating figure before she turned to gaze out the floor-to-ceiling windows. She stared, shocked, at Logan standing on the other side of the glass, glaring back at her. She missed the ice-blue, short-sleeve, linen shirt he’d paired with a tailored pair of navy-blue linen slacks when her gaze rested on his stoic face. The seconds lengthened until she raised her right hand and beckoned him in. She waited less than two minutes for the hostess to show him to her table.
The hostess placed a plastic-covered menu on the table as she gave Logan a seductive smile. “Enjoy.”
Logan thanked the young woman with an infectious smile, then sat down on the chair Randy had vacated. His expression revealed none of what he was feeling at that moment. He angry—no, it was more like annoyed with Caryn. She was at it again: batting her lashes at a man. And with Addie Bell’s very single, very flirtatious grandson no less. He had eaten at Addie’s the night before and had watched Randy Bell work the room. He’d noticed the chef lingering at the table of single women, while he barely nodded at those dining with a male escort.
His obsidian gaze lingered on her evenly tanned face. Her quiet beauty shouted out to him as he visually admired the woman sharing the house with him. She’d brushed her hair off her face and secured it in a chignon at the back of her head. And with her hair up and off her neck, he noticed the brilliance of a pair of diamond studs in her delicate ears for the first time.
Cocking his head at an angle, he continued to stare at her. “Thank you for sharing your table.”
“You’re welcome. I eat alone a lot, so having company is a treat for me.” The moment the revelation was out of her mouth, she knew she had said too much.
Logan picked up on the cue. “You’re not seeing anyone?”
She shook her head. “Not at the present time.”
His gaze dropped to the menu in front of him. “That makes two of us.”
“I’d suppose not, if you just called off your wedding.”
His head snapped up, and the lethal calmness in his gaze pinned Caryn to the back of her seat. He sucked in his breath, then let it out slowly as he swallowed back the virulent words poised on the tip of his tongue. He had to remind himself Caryn wasn’t Nina. Only Nina was Nina.
He forced a smile. “You’re right about that. I’d really be a dog if I dropped one woman and picked up another within a span of two weeks.”
“I didn’t say you were a dog, Logan.”
“Enough sisters call brothers dogs and—”
“This sister’s not calling you a dog unless …” She had interrupted him, but didn’t finish her statement.
He cocked his head at the angle she found so attractive. “Unless what?” he asked when she didn’t finish her statement.
Running her tongue over her lower lip, she formed a pout. “Unless you show me otherwise,” she teased.
Leaning over the table, he pursed his lips and let out a low howl. “How’s that for a start?” Caryn threw back her head and laughed, the sensual sound bubbling up from her silken throat. He stared at her animated features before his gaze moved down to her delicately crocheted, bright orange cropped cardigan. He could discern the lace of a matching bra through the open-work garment. His features tightened along with a familiar tightening between his thighs as the image of her naked body flashed in his mind.
What he wanted to do at that moment was reach across the table and pull Caryn onto his lap. He wanted her to feel what he was feeling—his uncontrollable desire whenever they were together. He was also angry because he couldn’t control his mind or his body whenever he came within six feet of Caryn Edwards. And he wanted to take her—without the tenderness he was capable of offering a woman. The deep-seated anger made him want to punish her for Nina’s infidelity. He wanted to punish her because he didn’t want to want her.
What was he to do? He’d stayed away from the house all morning, putting some distance between them. It had worked, but only temporarily. He had come to Marble Island to escape one woman, but found himself trapped by his unbidden desire for another woman.
He was faced with a perilous dilemma. He planned to spend no more than a month on Marble Island, which meant he had two choices. He could return to Raleigh and face whatever negative publicity ensued, or he could remain on Marble Island and let fate determine his destiny.
His gaze returned to Caryn’s face, drinking in her natural beauty. Within seconds he made his decision. It would be the latter. He would remain on Marble Island and let his life unfold.
Chapter Six
A slow smile spread over Logan’s face, softening his features and transfixing Caryn with the sensual expression. His dark gaze lingered on her face, bringing with it a rush of mounting heat.
“What is it about me that you find so amusing?” she asked after an uncomfortable silence.
Propping an elbow on the table, he rested his chin on the heel of his left hand. A sober expression replaced the smile as he chose his words carefully. “I find you not at all amusing. What I find is that I like you, Caryn Edwards. You’re nothing like the women I usually find myself attracted to, yet I like you.”
She sat still, very, very still, and only the shifting of one eyebrow indicating any reaction to his declaration. Who did he think he was? What did he expect her to say? Because he liked her she should genuflect?
“Should I feel honored because you like me?”
A thread of annoyance quickly replaced Logan’s feeling of well-being. “Not at all. I was just hoping that you’d like me.”
“Like you how, Logan? Like a friend?”
He nodded. “Yes. Like a friend.”
He’d lied. He didn’t know why, but he wanted more than friendship from her. After only two days he wanted to run his fingers over the silken skin of her face, committing her features to memory; he wanted to sculpt her form with his fingertips until he knew every curve of her body; and he wanted to lie with Caryn, while easing his hardness inside her until she felt what he felt anytime they shared the same space.
Letting out her breath slowly, Caryn offered him a gentle smile. “I suppose I could get to like you if you’d stopped acting like my older brother whenever you see me with a man.”
“Your brother chased away your boyfriends?”
She laughed. “They all weren’t my boyfriends. Most were just friends.”
“How many boyfriends did you have?”
Her expression grew serious, and she berated herself for steering the conversation where she could not avoid bringing up her ex-husband. “One.” The single word was layered with heavy sarcasm.
This time his eyebrow shifted upward. “The one you married and divorced?”
Lowering her head, she stared at the tabletop. “Yes, Logan. The one I married and divorced.”
He stared at her lowered head, not knowing how, but he felt her pain. “At least you got out of it when you realized it wouldn’t work.”
Her head came up quickly. “I wish I could’ve been smart e
nough to end it before it began.”
“If you hadn’t married, then chances are you would’ve always second-guessed yourself, wondering whether it could’ve worked out.”
“Are you second-guessing yourself?” she asked in a quiet voice. “Do you regret not following through with your wedding plans?”
His eyes widened until she thought she would drown in the obsidian pools. The pain and bitterness Logan struggled to erase after he saw Nina with his best friend surfaced quickly, but somehow he found the strength to repress most of it before Caryn registered the weakness he would never permit anyone to see.
“Never.”
“You say never, Logan, while I see pain and regret.”
His eyebrows met in an angry frown. “You don’t see a damn thing!” His voice, though low, quivered with rage.
Her temper rose, matching his. “Don’t you dare bark at me, Mister—”
“Prescott,” he finished before he had a chance to think. Caryn’s jaw dropped, and he knew she’d recognized the name. She now knew who he was. Leaning back, he crossed his arms over his chest. “I suppose you’ll tell everyone that I’m the low-down, dirty bastard who walked out on Nina Smith a week before her wedding?”
Caryn lowered her gaze, remembering the veiled, titillating rumors in the gossip columns about the man who’d jilted Nina Smith. She hadn’t paid much attention to her fiancé’s name; however, most African-Americans in North Carolina were directly or indirectly aware of who the Smiths were. The name was synonymous with insurance and banking.
Her downcast eyes lifted slightly as she observed Logan through lowered lashes. “What went on between you and Nina Smith is your business, and only your business. And if anyone on Marble Island uncovers who you are, then I want you to know that it won’t come from me.”
A slight smile tugged at the corners of his wide mouth before it blossomed into a full grin. The expression held her rapt attention, and she couldn’t help but return it. She marveled how stern and solemn his unsmiling face was, while on the other hand a smile softened his features wherein he looked like a different person.
“Thanks for helping me out, friend.”
She nodded demurely. “You’re welcome, friend.”
Now that Caryn knew who Logan Prescott was, she also wondered what could’ve happened to make him walk away from Nina Smith. She had read enough about Nina’s father in Ebony and Black Enterprise to know the man ran his companies like a tyrant, while offering his employees excellent salaries and generous bonuses to abide his sometimes questionable workplace policies.
She recalled Marcia’s telephone message: He’s gotten a lot of flack from her family, so I offered the house because there are not too many places he can go where people won’t recognize him. His photograph and the story made all of the major dailies.
Well, she hadn’t recognized his face, and she hoped not too many others on Marble Island would recognize him. Yes, she concluded, it would be healthier for Logan Prescott if he stayed on Marble Island for as long as he could.
“What were your parents’ reaction to you calling off the wedding?” Her voice was low, barely a whisper.
Logan shifted a sweeping eyebrow, his gaze fused with Caryn’s. “I suppose they were disappointed.”
“You suppose they were?”
He registered her incredulous tone. “My mother said whatever my decision, she supported me.”
“You didn’t tell her why?”
“I didn’t have to.”
“What about your brothers, sisters, or your friends in the wedding party? They had to be as shocked as your fiancée.”
“My friends also accepted my decision without elaboration. As to brothers or sisters, I have none. I’m an only child.”
He’s spoiled, Caryn mused. It was no wonder he did not know how to clean up after himself. And that also explained his sometime dictatorial manner. There was no doubt his parents, his mother in particular, indulged him, and at age thirty-five it had continued.
“I’m not the unfeeling ogre you think I am,” Logan said quietly.
A slight smile curved her full mouth. “How do you know what I’m feeling?”
A smile crinkled his eyes, softening his stern features. “Your eyes give you away. They are truly the window to your soul, Caryn Edwards.”
“What are they saying?”
“I’m a monster.”
Her expression sobered. She didn’t think him a monster. What she thought was that Logan Prescott was used to having things his way. If not his way, then no way.
“I have no right to judge you. After all, I’m not the aggrieved party.” What she wanted to say was that she wasn’t the jilted fiancée.
“How did your parents come to name you Logan?” she questioned, deciding to change the subject. She did not want to probe too deeply into Logan’s love life because she did not want to have to reciprocate in kind.
“Logan is my mother’s maiden name. Her first name is Maeve.”
“Maeve Logan. It sounds so beautiful. So Irish.”
“And that she is.”
Caryn sat, unblinking for several seconds. “Your mother is Irish?” He nodded slowly. “And your father?”
“As WASP as he can get.”
Her searching gaze moved slowly over his face, registering everything. She examined his wide mouth with a full lower lip, straight nose with a narrow bridge, the large black eyes with a hint of an upward slant at the corners, and the inky darkness of his skin. A smooth sable brown over layers of blue undertones. There were no obvious indications that Logan Prescott was anything but a descendant of African heritage.
“I was adopted,” he explained as Caryn’s delicate jaw dropped slightly. A knowing grin tipped the corners of Logan’s generous mouth. Her reaction was similar to most who saw him with his parents for the first time.
She recovered, squaring her shoulders and pressing her back against the cushioned chair. “I would’ve thought many things about you, but I don’t think I’d ever considered you being adopted.”
Folding his arms over his crisply laundered blue shirt, Logan regarded her with a narrowed look. “You think about me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Answer my question, Caryn. Do you think about me?”
Their gazes met and fused across the small expanse of the table. There was no hint of teasing or challenge, but there was a glimmer of an awaiting interest and expectation. In two days their initial annoyance with the other had slipped away, replaced by a dawning realization of a wanting to know more and wanting to see more of the other.
“Yes, Logan,” she replied truthfully, “I do think of you.”
He didn’t move, blink. “How?”
“You’re arrogant.” He flinched noticeably. “And you’re also dictatorial, spoiled, chauvinistic …”
“Enough,” he said softly.
Caryn successfully concealed a smile when she saw his pained expression. “Oh, I have a few more adjectives.”
He waved a hand. “Forget I asked.”
“Have I not been truthful?”
“Partially.”
“Explain.”
“I admit to being a little spoiled. That’s comes from upbringing, but I won’t admit to being chauvinistic or dictatorial.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Are you the boss or a manager of a company?”
“I work with my father.”
“Does he own the company?”
“Yes. What does that have to do with anything?”
“You’re the boss’s son. You’re dictatorial. Case closed.”
Logan affected a woeful expression. “You’re judging me unfairly.”
“No, I’m not. Can’t you see yourself, Logan? There is nothing going on between us, yet every man I either talk to or smile at starts you glowering at them. Living with you will certainly not help my love life this summer.”
Lowering his arms, he placed both hands, palms down, on the table. The smoldering
flame in his coal-black eyes startled Caryn, eliciting a dizzying current of awareness of the tall, dark, handsome man with whom she would share the same space for at least a month. He angled his head, staring at her parted lips.
“Are you looking for a summer dalliance?” His rich, deep voice lowered to a sensual whisper.
She wanted to shout out a resounding no, or that’s none of your business, but decided against it. Shrugging a shoulder under her orange crocheted top, she smiled. “I wouldn’t put it that way. I’m more apt to say that I haven’t put it on my Do Not list.”
Logan’s expression hardened. “Which means you are looking?”
Caryn nodded slowly. “Somewhat.” She had half-lied. She actually wasn’t looking for someone to fall in love with because the pain of her failed marriage had not faded completely.
Vertical lines furrowed his smooth forehead. She was looking and he wasn’t. And there was no doubt that she was looking. There probably wasn’t a man on Marble Island who hadn’t caught the hypnotic sparkle of her luminous eyes or her brilliant smile.
The frown faded as soon as it formed. She hadn’t smiled at him the way she’d done with the store clerk or Randy Bell, leaving him to believe he was certain not to become one of her hapless victims. He pitied any man Caryn Edwards purposefully set out to seduce.
“What are you going to order?” she asked, pulling him out of his reverie.
He hadn’t glanced at the menu. “What did you order?” She told him and he nodded. “I’ll probably have the same.”
The words were barely out of his mouth when Randy appeared, expertly balancing several plates and dishes along the length of his arm. His bright smile faded the moment he spied Caryn sitting with the tall, dark man who had come into Addie’s the night before.
Randy’s professional smile was back in place as he neared the table. “Here we are. I hope you’ll enjoy.”
Caryn was delighted with the beautiful presentation of the food. “It looks delicious.” Glancing up, she rewarded Randy with a sensual smile. “Logan has decided to order the same.”
Summer Magic Page 6