All of the windows were closed, yet he still could hear the roar of the ocean over the sound of the howling, screaming wind.
“Caryn, where are you?” he whispered angrily. The words spewed out because he needed to hear another sound, other than that of the wind, rain, and the powerful roar of the ocean.
Pulling the toe of his moccasin from under Domino’s limp head, he stood up and walked over to the window. It was only seven-fifteen, but it could have been midnight. His gaze met blackness, as a sliver of fear wound its way into him.
What if something had happened to her? What if she was trapped in her car by the rising waters? What if she lay injured somewhere along the road?
His apprehension swelled into a paralyzing, pregnant fear. He cared about her. No—it was more than concern or caring, and in an instant, Logan had to admit to himself that he was falling in love with Caryn Edwards. And, the love he felt for her was so different from the one for Nina Smith.
This love was soothing, gentle. It made him want to protect her from all, or any harm. He wanted to love her, but only on his terms.
He debated whether to go out into the storm and look for her, or remain at the house in case she telephoned. The lights flickered again, then went out, quickly solving his dilemma. The island was completely dark, making it impossible to see anything.
Moving slowly, he inched his way out of the family room and into the kitchen, hoping he would not step on Domino. Holding his hands in front of him, he felt along a wall until he encountered the gas-burning cooking range and turned a knob for a burner. Bright blue flames lit up the kitchen once all of the burners were lit. They provided enough light in the space for him to locate a supply of candles stored in a drawer under a countertop. He lit a candle and placed it on a small ceramic dish, then another. Using the flickering candle as a beacon, he returned to the family room and picked up the dozing puppy and placed him back in his cage. He didn’t want the dog to wake up and race around frantically in the dark.
Shielding the candle with one hand, he crossed the dining room and stood in the entry. A wave of fear and panic settled in his chest with each passing second as terrifying images flooded his mind. He shook off the picture of her trapped in her car while rushing flood waters filled its interior.
“She’s safe,” he whispered as he paced back and forth. She’s just waiting out the storm. He stopped pacing. “Then why hasn’t she called?” he continued in his monologue.
He stared into the flame, mentally willing her to come to him. Caryn, sweetheart. Come to me. I’ll take care of you.
He jumped, nearly dropping the candle, when he heard a wailing sound before it was snatched away by the howling wind. At first he thought he’d imagined it, but he heard it again, followed by a drumming sound on the door.
Logan took two steps, opened the door, and it was torn from his grasp by the wind which slammed it against its frame and quickly extinguished the candle. He could barely discern the churning foam of the waves cresting more than six feet in height in the unnatural darkness. Reaching out, he attempted to close the door when he glanced down and saw her.
Caryn lay facedown on the porch, her arms covering her head in a protective gesture. “Fool!” he spat out seconds before he gathered her up in his arms. The scrappy little fool had challenged the violent fury of a tropical storm with winds blowing more than forty miles an hour and rising tides sweeping away anything in its path.
Placing her over his shoulder, he held her legs as he pulled the screen door closed and locked it securely, then closed and bolted the inner door, shutting out the violent sound of nature’s fury.
Caryn felt the warmth of Logan’s body seeping into her chilled limbs. “Lo-Lo-gan.” His name came out in a raspy whisper at the same time her teeth chattered like rolling dice.
He felt the unnatural iciness of her body through her soggy clothes, and his irritation quickly turned to alarm. He had to get her out of the wet clothes and warm her before she went into shock.
Returning to the kitchen, he placed her on the table and ripped off her blouse when he couldn’t push the buttons through their openings. Her running shoes, slacks, underpants, and bra quickly followed. He left her long enough to light three more candles and place them strategically around the kitchen. The flickering flames highlighted her face and he stared numbly at her, not recognizing the woman he had spent the past four days with. She had cut her hair, the shortened strands clinging to her scalp like a black cap.
His shock was short-lived as he removed his T-shirt and rubbed her naked body vigorously until she moaned softly under the ministration.
“Stop,” she pleaded. “No more.”
He ignored her plea. “I have to warm you.”
Her right hand flailed out, catching him under his chin. His head snapped back, and quicker than the eye could follow he caught her hand, holding it firmly. “Don’t fight me, Caryn. I’m not going to hurt you,” he hissed between clenched teeth
All of her fight vanished, and she did what she had wanted to do from the moment she realized a bridge she had driven across only seconds before had been washed away by a wall of rushing water—she cried. Turning, she rested her forehead against Logan’s bare arm and cried.
“I—I thought I wasn’t going to make it,” she whispered between sobs. “The water was rising—everywhere. It came—came into the car, and I thought I was going to drown. All I thought of was being trapped in the car while the water rose around me, and—”
“It’s okay,” Logan crooned, stopping her. Pulling her gently to him, he picked her up and held her as if she were a small child, placing tender kisses all over her face. “It’s all right, baby. It’s over and you’re safe. I’ll take care of you.”
He held her effortlessly, offering his warmth and his protection in the candlelit space. A slight smile touched his mouth as she quieted, then went still in his embrace. Closing his eyes briefly, he offered a silent prayer of gratitude for her safe return.
Picking up a candle, he held it at an angle so he wouldn’t drip wax on Caryn’s exposed flesh. Moving slowly, he made his way out of the kitchen and up the staircase to the second floor. He needed to get her into bed, then prepare something warm for her to drink.
Logan entered her bedroom, placing her on her bed, and covered her with a sheet and a lightweight blanket. Leaning over, he brushed his mouth over hers. “Relax, baby.”
Nodding, she closed her eyes, and when she reopened them ten minutes later Logan sat on the side of the bed, holding a cup. She could barely make out his features in the soft glow of candlelight.
“Try to sit up,” he urged in a quiet voice.
Pushing herself into a sitting position, Caryn clutched the sheet over her bare breasts, taking small sips of overly sweetened tea as Logan held the cup to her lips. Her gaze met his, fusing over the rim of the cup seconds before her lids lowered slowly.
He placed the cup on the bedside table as she lay back against the pillows cradling her shoulders. Within minutes she fell into a deep sleep, shutting out all of her fears and nature’s wrath running amuck.
Logan sat on the side of the bed, staring at her composed features in the wavering candlelight. He tried and failed to analyze why he’d found himself drawn to Caryn Edwards. Why did he find it so easy to pretend she was his wife. Why he was willing to think of her as his wife. And what was it about her that melted his distrust where he was willing to permit himself to fall in love with her?
Caryn awoke to total darkness and to the lingering sound of the moaning wind. She sat up, disoriented, not knowing whether it was day or night.
The image of her car filling with water as she drove through what had become swollen, rushing currents flooded her memory, eliciting a violent shaking. She’d thought she was going to drown, the car becoming her watery tomb. But she had made it. She had driven over the bridge connecting Marble Island with the mainland minutes before it was swept away, leaving a surging waterway instead of a concrete structu
re.
Once she realized she had escaped death by drowning, she had vividly recalled the images of her parents, her brother, sister-in-law, and her niece and nephew. And she did not know why, but Logan’s face had also appeared, and she’d wondered whether she would ever see him, touch him, or kiss him again.
She hadn’t understood what had propelled her back to Marble Island during the storm until she found herself in his arms. She had challenged the tempest because she knew she had to see him one more time.
She remembered him calling her a fool, and that she was. She was a fool for falling in love with Logan Prescott, and even more of a fool for wanting him.
Pushing aside the sheet, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and reached for the lamp. She turned the switch, but the bulb remained unlit. The power was still out on the island. Slowly and tentatively, she felt her way across the room and down the hallway, her fingertips maintaining contact with the wall.
Counting doorways, she came to Logan’s bedroom, pushed open the door and walked in. She heard movement, then his voice. “Caryn?”
She went completely still, unable to see in front of her hand. There was only the sound of her breathing, it sounding unnaturally loud in her ears. She wanted to tell him she wanted him, she needed him, and that she did not want to be alone.
“Are you all right?”
Inhaling deeply, she held her breath then let it out slowly. “Yes.”
She remained in the same spot as she heard him move off the bed. Then he was beside her, the heat from his body nearly suffocating her when he pulled her naked body against his.
Holding her gently in his strong embrace, Logan lowered his head and dropped a kiss over her ear. “I’m going to take you back to your bed.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to go back to my bed.” Her voice was a tremulous whisper.
Logan sucked in his breath, holding it until he was forced to exhale and praying he could control the rush of blood to his groin. He stood in a darkened space, holding a woman to his nude body—a woman who had managed to weave her way into his heart without trying. A woman who made him want her, although he continued to tell himself that he did not want or need any woman.
“I’m going back to bed,” he said softly. “And if you come with me, then I can’t promise you I won’t make love to you.”
Her fingertips inched up his bare chest to his lips. Rising on tiptoe, her mouth replaced her fingers and answered his challenge. “Then don’t promise,” she whispered.
Bending slightly, Logan swung her up in his arms and backed up until his calves hit the side of the bed. He sat down, holding Caryn protectively in his embrace. He registered her slight intake of breath as his rising hardness pressed up against her derriere, searching for the heat of her moist opening.
The passion rushing headlong throughout his body told him to take her quickly to ease the throbbing ache, but he ignored it. Caryn deserved more, because he loved her. He would make certain she would find fulfillment before he took his own.
Easing her off his lap, he placed her on the center of the bed and covered her body with his, supporting his weight on his arms. His fingers swept through her hair, pushing the short curls off her forehead and over her ears. He felt the warmth of her quickened moist breath on his throat before he captured it in a explosive kiss that sucked the very air from her lungs.
Caryn arched, her arms curving around Logan’s strong neck. Kissing him, holding him, feeling his hardness rising up against her belly verified she was truly alive; that her passion had been asleep. It had a long time, too long, since she’d lain with a man while acknowledging that her own passions ran strong and deep.
Her legs curled around his, making him her willing prisoner. His tongue moved in and out of her open mouth in a slow, measured rhythm, precipitating a matching throbbing between her thighs.
Reaching between their bodies, the fingers of his right hand lingered on her thigh as it inched up and found the source of her feminine heat. Raising his hips to permit him access, one finger slipped between the moist folds hiding her femininity. She gasped at the invasion as he pushed into her and prepared her for his total possession. His thumb covered the tight, distended bud of flesh at the apex of her thighs. He increased the pressure, massaging gently until her moans escalated along with her rising desire.
Logan measured the contractions of her flesh opening and closing around his finger, feeling them coming stronger and faster. Angling his hips, he pushed his sex into her body at the same time her body arched in her first soaring climax. Her pulsing flesh pulled him in until he found himself drowning in the ecstasy hurtling him beyond himself.
Caryn gasped in sweet agony as Logan’s hardness aroused her to heights she hadn’t thought possible. Explosive sensations buffeted her again and again, over and over until she thought she would surely die from the pleasure. Her breathing quickened, she writhing against his hard, damp body, wanting to get closer, wanting to become one with him.
Then she heard it, his long, shuddering groan of surrendering ecstasy overlapping her soft moans as they soared together in an awesome, shattering, explosive shower of liquid passion.
They lay together, breathing heavily, his sated body pressing her down to the mattress. Smiling, she welcomed the pleasurable, protective heaviness.
Loathing to withdraw from the scorching heat of her body, Logan held her tightly and reversed their position. He smiled in the darkness and placed soft, tender kisses on her silken, scented throat. Caryn moaned softly, rested her cheek on his shoulder, and slept.
Logan reached down and pulled the sheet up over their moist bodies, and within minutes he joined her in the sleep reserved for sated lovers.
Chapter Twelve
The rising sun clearly revealed the devastating aftermath of the storm that bore down along the Carolina coast with abandoned vehicles and flooded structures. Logan turned over and stared at Caryn, wondering what secrets she kept as she lay sleeping. The silken crush of her firm breasts against his chest elicited a knowing smile as he recalled her unrestrained passion. Their coming together had been intense, but all too brief. He’d wanted it to last longer, but it was not to be. At the moment he entered her body, he knew she had been celibate for some time, and any prolonged bout of lovemaking would have left her tender for days. And he did not want anything to interfere with his sharing her body.
Resting his head on a folded arm, his smile vanished. He’d slept with her without using protection, and something told him Caryn was not practicing contraception. He shuddered to think if he’d gotten her pregnant. And if she was, there was no doubt he would take full responsibility for his actions. Unlike his sixteen-year-old biological Native-American father, who hadn’t been told he’d fathered a child, he would care for Caryn, as well as his own child.
His free hand touched the soft curls clinging to her scalp, lifting them gently. Caryn stirred under his light touch, her eyelids fluttering until they opened. They widened in shock, and she appeared startled to find herself waking up in his bed.
“Good morning,” she said shyly, dropping her gaze.
“Good morning,” he returned, his smile back in place. Last night, with the darkness and in concert with the storm, she had come to him, offering up all she had. Now, in the full sunlight she was visibly embarrassed by what had occurred between them.
He decided to make it easy for her. He would not mention their lovemaking unless she brought it up. “Why did you cut your hair?”
Her hand came up, and she threaded her fingers through the shortened black curls. “I decided I wanted a different look.”
Logan’s penetrating gaze registered everything about her lovely face. The shorter hair was flattering, making her appear older and more sophisticated. “Why would you want a different look?”
Her gaze met his, all traces of gold missing and leaving them a deep verdant green. “Because I’m not the same person I was when I decided to let it grow long.”
/> Curving an arm around her bare waist, he pulled her closer. “Is that a good thing?”
Nodding, she gave him a half-smile. “A very good thing.” What she wouldn’t say is that she was a different person since meeting him. Knowing she was falling in love again had changed her—forever.
“I like the new and different Caryn Edwards.”
She searched his features for a hint of guile, but found none. “Thank you.”
“You’re quite welcome.” Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he whispered, “You pack a mean wallop, Miss Edwards.”
She remembered hitting him the night before. “I’m sorry I hit you,” she apologized, staring at the hard muscles under his powerful shoulders. “I didn’t mean it.”
He nodded slowly. “I realized that after you nearly broke my neck. You hit me with an open hand. Have you been trained in the martial arts?”
She hadn’t meant to hit him that hard. “Yes. I took a self-defense course after the stalking. I never wanted to become that vulnerable again.”
Logan whistled softly. “I’m willing to bet you can kick some serious butt.”
“I will if I have to.”
“You’re a scrappy little thing, aren’t you?”
The heat in her face intensified. “I’m not scrappy.”
Raising his chin, he pointed to the spot where she’d struck him. “Look at my jaw. I’m willing to bet it’s swollen.”
Her gaze visually traced his stubbled jaw. “No, it’s not.”
“Touch it.”
Reaching out, she ran her fingers along his jawline, encountering a small lump under his chin. Caryn bit down on her lower lip. “I said I was sorry.”
Logan held her hand firmly. “Kiss it and make it better,” he crooned in a coaxing tone.
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