Summer Magic

by Rochelle Alers

  Her eyes widened. “No.” It was enough she had come to him the night before seeking comfort and protection. But the storm was over and so were her fears. And she knew her wanton behavior was the result of her falling in love with him, but that love for him would remain her secret.

  “I kissed you and made you better,” he countered.

  “When?”

  “When you were shaking so hard from the cold that you couldn’t stand up or talk.”

  Caryn watched him warily as he stared at her. She lay on his bed, naked. There may have been a teasing quality in Logan’s challenge; however, she knew instinctively what had passed between them was far from teasing.

  Her fingers splayed over his jaw as she leaned in closer and pressed her mouth to his at the same time he caught her head, increasing the pressure. The heat from his large body reignited the flame in hers, his mouth searing hers with an uncontrollable heat which spread to her chest and still lower. The kiss continued, his mouth leaving tender, moist kisses all over her face. It ended with him burying his face between the scented area of her shoulder and neck as he inhaled the cloying perfume clinging to her silken flesh.

  Closing her eyes, Caryn curved her arms around Logan’s slim waist. “Logan?”

  “Ummm.” He lay motionless, fighting back the passions threatening to surface and explode.

  “What—what we’re doing. What we did …”

  His head came up, and he stared down at her as she regarded him with an impassive expression. “What about us?”

  After a pregnant pause, in which she managed to control her emotions, she said, “We’re going to be together for only a short time, and I believe we’re both mature enough not to read more into this—our sleeping together.”

  A frown settled between his eyes. “What are you saying?”

  “I hope you enjoyed sleeping with me as much as I’ve enjoyed sleeping with you.” He nodded. “But that’s all it is—our sleeping together, and when it’s over it’ll be over. No histrionics and no pressure of a future commitment.”

  His expressive eyebrows shifted. “Are you suggesting we can have a summer dalliance, and when the summer ends so will our liaison?”

  Caryn hid the pain she wouldn’t permit him to see with a gentle smile. She wanted nothing more from Logan except his passion. She did not want him to feel obligated in any manner because she’d offered him her body. Her ex-husband had controlled her life, and when she left him she took it back. And if she was willing to share her body with Logan, it would be on her terms or not at all.

  She nodded slowly. “That’s the way I want it.”

  His hands went to her shoulders, tightening and holding her fast. “What if you become pregnant? I have to assume you’re not using any birth control.”

  She mentally calculated when her period was due. “I’m safe right now, but I won’t be in another week.”

  Releasing her, Logan rolled off her body and lay on his back. “You don’t have to worry about becoming pregnant, because I’ll assume the responsibility of protecting you.”

  Caryn reached for his hand and threaded her fingers through his, squeezing gently. “Thank you.”

  What he wanted to do was scream at her. He wanted to tell her that she was cold, unfeeling, but knew she wasn’t. Her words may have indicated indifference to the importance of their sharing the other’s body, but the amazing completeness she’d offered him was anything but nonchalance.

  He’d burned for her, and when he finally lost himself in her scented limbs the ecstasy she aroused was explosive and satisfying. Unknowingly, she had become the one to assuage his voluptuous, libidinous appetite. A deep peace settled into his being when he confirmed Caryn Edwards was the first woman who had taken him into her body and to complete sexual fulfillment.

  The electrical power was restored to Marble Island only after the Army Corps of Engineers, called in at the request of the state’s governor, descended on the islands along the North Carolina coast to erect makeshift bridges to link the isolated inhabitants with the mainland.

  The Crawford house escaped any flood damage because of its elevated construction, but more than a half dozen of the smaller structures were not as fortunate. Within twenty-four hours insurance company adjusters set up headquarters in a corner of Addie’s and conducted business amid the mouthwatering aromas coming from the restaurant’s kitchen.

  Logan and Caryn went through the task of discarding foodstuffs in the refrigerator and freezer which either wilted or spoiled during the electrical power outage. It was late afternoon when they took a tour of the island, surveying the damage brought on by the unexpected tropical disturbance. Luckily both her car and Logan’s four-wheel-drive vehicle were operable and had not sustained any saltwater damage. Others in lower elevations were not as fortunate.

  At five o’clock that evening, the sound of the bell in the church’s belfry called all inhabitants to the church for an impromptu thanksgiving service for the sparing of human life. Caryn moved closer to Logan and tightened her grip on his hand. He smiled down at her, and she returned it with a dazzling one of her own.

  The upcoming Friday night outdoor concert was canceled, but the six businesspeople who made up the island’s Chamber of Commerce decided to go forward with the scheduled Saturday night barn dance. There were a few protests, but Elaine Shelton reminded the vacationers that they had come to Marble Island for fun and relaxation, and within minutes everyone agreed.

  Addie ended the meeting with the promise of an open house at the restaurant, offering dinner at half the menu price. Randy Bell asked Logan if he and Caryn were coming, but Logan declined. He had only another three weeks on Marble Island, and he intended to spend much of that time alone with Caryn.

  “What do you have planned for this evening?” she asked as they made their way back to the house on Watermelon Patch Lane.

  Curving an arm around her tiny waist, he pulled her close to his side. “A romantic candlelight dinner under the stars with the most beautiful woman on Marble Island.” She tilted her chin at the same time his head came down. He brushed his lips overs hers, inhaling her sweet, moist breath.

  “Speaking of candles,” she said as they continued their walk along the beach. “I stopped and bought some oil candles yesterday. I thought they would be a pretty addition to the house when your friend and his wife come on Saturday.”

  Logan nodded. “I have to call Ham and find out if they’re still coming. Who knows what kind of storm damage they may have sustained farther down the coast.”

  “If they don’t come Saturday, then they can always come during the week.”

  “Maybe I’ll suggest that. I need this weekend to put the finishing touches on a proposal I’m hoping to fax to my father by Monday.”

  “How do you like working for your father?”

  “He’s a hard taskmaster, but he’s fair. I learned a long time ago not to challenge him outright once he takes a stand on a project. It has taken many years, but I’ve learned the subtle art of negotiation.”

  “I take it you’ve challenged him?”

  “Only once. I was seventeen and I’d just gotten my driver’s license, so I volunteered to drive my friends to a party. Jace gave me the keys to his car, but insisted emphatically I come home by midnight.

  “Needless to say, I strolled back in after two. We exchanged words, and it was only after he’d clipped me on my jaw and I was sprawled on my ass did I plead temporary insanity. In a heated rage I hadn’t remember exactly what I’d said to him, but what I should’ve remembered was that Jace Prescott had been a middleweight boxing champ at Yale.

  “I picked myself off the floor, threw his keys at his feet, and stalked off to my room. My mother came to see me the next day and quoted my inflammatory tirade verbatim. What I said to Jace was unconscionable, and I knew I had to apologize to the man who loved me despite the fact we shared no blood ties. I went to his office to meet with him, but he kept me waiting for two hours even though there w
as no one in his office.

  “His secretary finally let me see him, and I walked over to him, extending my hand. He stood motionless, staring at my hand for what seemed like two minutes, and when he finally looked up to meet my gaze I broke down. It was the first time I’d ever cried wherein I’d permitted either one of my parents to see my tears. And it was also the first time I’d ever seen my father cry.

  “We hugged each other, then laughed. Jace patted my cheek, saying he was proud of the man I had become. I kissed his cheek, telling him that I was proud to call him father. The older I become the more I love my parents, and I pray I’ll never deliberately hurt them—not for any reason.”

  Caryn wondered what he’d said to Jace Prescott, but would never ask Logan to disclose something so personal. “How did you meet Marcia?”

  “Terrence, her brother, Wayne, and I belong to the National Association of Black Architects. We bonded one year during a national convention in D.C., but after Terrence married Marcia and moved to Asheville, Wayne and I continued the friendship. He was to be my best man.”

  Logan mentioning his aborted wedding elicited a shiver of awareness. She had just slept with a man who had called off his wedding two weeks ago, and she wondered when he’d made love to her, if he had thought of Nina Smith. Had she become a willing replacement for a woman he’d loved enough to ask her to spend her life with him?

  She shook off the feeling of uneasiness. It didn’t matter. Whatever they offered the other, would only be for the summer. She would enjoy his protection and his passion, and she when she walked away from Logan she would not look back. At least not with any regret.

  The setting for the candlelight dinner under the stars became an ethereal event. Instead of eating on the porch, Logan decided to spread a blanket out on the sand, adding throw pillows from the family room sofa to sit on while they dined on an appetizer of gingery chicken kebabs with a honey mustard sauce, sliced avocado, broiled baby lamp chops served with a Madeira sauce, and a full-flavored fragrant chilled rosé.

  After her second glass of wine, Caryn lay down on the blanket and stared up at the quarter moon casting an eerie pale glow on the sand and ocean.

  “I think you’re a much better cook than I am,” she said in a singsong voice.

  Logan lay beside her, smiling. “I doubt that. After all, you’re the daughter of a very successful master chef.”

  She closed her eyes. “My culinary skills will never match my father’s.”

  Moving closer, Logan turned on his belly and draped an arm over her flat middle. He couldn’t remember when he’d been so relaxed. A cool ocean breeze floated over his body, and he wondered if the air had cooled too much for Caryn to remain outdoors wearing only a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. The storm had broken a record-breaking two week heat wave.

  “Let me know when you’re ready to go in.”

  “Are you kidding,” Caryn remarked, moving closer to his warm body. “I could sleep out here all night.”

  Raising his head, Logan chuckled. “I can just imagine you waking up screaming because a crab has decided to feast on your bare feet.”

  She opened her eyes, their gazes meeting in the ghostly moonlight. “If I wake up screaming, then you’ll have to protect me. And knowing you, you’ll probably catch the hapless crustacean and cook him.”

  He held her gaze, and there was only the sound of the incoming tide as lapping waves broke against the sandy beach. “You’re right about that, Caryn. You’ll always have me to protect you.”

  Everything that was Logan Prescott swept over her in that instant as she rose and looped her arms around his neck, inhaling his familiar fragrance. She savored the unyielding strength of his hard body and his warmth.

  Turning her head, she stared longingly into his eyes, smiling. “Thank you for a wonderful dinner.”

  Logan’s gaze moved slowly over her deeply tanned golden-brown face. “I should be the one thanking you. I was carrying a lot of hatred when I first stepped foot on Marble Island. And knowing I had to share this house with a woman did little to improve my disposition.”

  “And now?”

  Reaching up, he picked at the short curling hairs on the nape of her long neck, rubbing them between his fingertips. “Now I wouldn’t want it any other way. You’ve helped me more than you’ll ever know.”

  Her moist breath swept over his mouth as she inched closer. “Are you saying you like sharing the house with me?”

  “I like sharing everything with you,” he whispered seductively. He displayed the sensual smile that always made her catch her breath as she ran her forefinger down the length of his straight, narrow nose.

  “You have a beautiful face, Logan.”

  He went still, then glanced away. “Men aren’t beautiful, sweetheart.”

  “You are,” she countered softly. “Everything about your face is so perfect, so evenly balanced. Your eyes, nose, and mouth resemble those on male statues in European museums. You could’ve been the model for Michelangelo’s David.”

  A slight smile played at the corners of his mouth. “I look nothing like my biological mother, except for coloring, so I assume I must have inherited my features and height from my father.”

  “Doesn’t it bother you that you don’t know who your father is? That perhaps you may have passed him on a street and not known it?”

  “The very questions you’re asking haunted me at one time, but not now. I’ve learned to deal with now, not the past.”

  Caryn nodded. Logan was right. She had let go of her past when she decided never to write Tom’s name in her journals. All she and Logan had was now, and she intended to enjoy whatever time given them.

  “What do you want to do now?” she questioned so softly he had to strain to catch her words.

  “I want to make love to you, Miss Caryn Edwards.”

  She’d asked and he’d been truthful. And it was time she was truthful—to herself and to Logan. “I need you to make love to me.”

  Together, as if on cue, they rose and picked up the remains of their dinner, carried it back to the house, and put everything away. They worked side by side in silence, cleaning the kitchen while anticipating what was to come.

  Caryn retreated to her bedroom and showered while Logan did the same, but when she left the adjoining bathroom to reenter her bedroom she found Logan standing at the window staring down at the beach. He wore a pair of silk boxers, the stark white a brilliant contrast against his sable-brown flesh. Her pulse quickened, her gaze sweeping over his exquisitely proportioned body and lingering on the breadth of his wide shoulders, narrow waist, hips, and powerful calves.

  Sensing her presence, he turned slowly and stared at her. She’d wrapped a towel around her head and another around her slender body.

  “How long have you been waiting for me?”

  “About ten minutes.”

  She held up a jar of scented cream cologne. “Would you mind putting some cream on my back?”

  Moving over to the bed, he patted the mattress. “Lie down.”

  She complied and lay facedown on the sheet, resting her cheek on her folded arms. Closing her eyes, she shivered slightly when Logan removed the towels. The heat from his large body warmed her limbs as he smoothed the delicate fragrant cream over her back, arms, legs, and feet. Turning her over, he repeated his ministrations, his fingers gliding over her shoulders, breasts, and belly.

  Caryn closed her eyes against his burning gaze when his fingers retraced their path and tightened over the fullness of her breasts. His thumbs lingered around the nipples as they hardened, verifying her rising desire.

  Closing his eyes, Logan manually traced the curves and valleys of her form, committing every part of her to memory. And he would need the memories after he left Marble Island because Caryn had set the terms for their brief interlude.

  He wanted to tell her of the feelings she aroused in him. But how could he tell her he loved her when all she wanted was a fleeting physical attachment? And would
n’t because it would make him too vulnerable, and he doubted whether he would be able to walk away from Caryn Edwards unscathed.

  He wished he could be like some men who took whatever a woman offered, not offering or giving up anything in return. But he knew he was different. Caryn had offered him the gift of her body and he’d accepted it, while he’d returned the gift along with his love—a love she would never hear him openly declare.

  Lowering his head, his tongue swept over one nipple, then the other. He teased the turgid flesh between his teeth, she gasping and arching off the mattress.

  He reached out and held her hands above her head with one hand when she attempted to push him away. The power failure of the night before had not permitted him to visually feast on her naked body, and tonight he wanted his fill.

  Her oversized T-shirts had hidden a lush feminine body which drew his devouring gaze. The shirts hid a pair of full, firm breasts with large dark brown nipples. His eyes closed briefly and opened just as quickly when he envisioned his child suckling at her breasts, but dismissed the vision as soon as it appeared. Caryn would never bear his children because she would never become more to him than a passing summer dalliance.

  Lowering his body, he released her hands and traced the outline of her lush mouth with his tongue. Freed, she curved her arms around his neck, pulling his closer, her own mouth staking her claim on his full lower lip.

  He returned the kiss, his mouth slanting across hers in hungry abandonment. Her soft moans were his undoing as he gathered her in his arms and carried her out of her bedroom and down the hallway to his.

  What followed left Caryn gasping as she lay sprawled across Logan’s bed, staring at him in the soft light of a bedside lamp. He divested himself of the silk boxers, paused to protect her, then slipped between her thighs with a strong sure thrust of his powerful hips.

  The dormant sexuality of her body had been awakened with his hardness, and she couldn’t control her whimpers of delight with the erotic pleasure flooding her whole being. The passion became an ache, becoming stronger and stronger with each thrust as she rose, arching to meet him.