Summer Magic

by Rochelle Alers

  Wanting to get closer, Logan reached down and cupped Caryn’s hips, holding her captive and not permitting her movement. He felt the soft crush of her breasts against his chest, inhaled the clean sweetness of her freshly showered body, and he tried measuring the contractions of her fevered flesh pulsing around his rigid sex.

  She’d ignited a fire which threatened to incinerate him as the flames of passion grew higher and hotter. His heart pounded uncontrollably in his chest, and he thought if he didn’t release his passions it would explode.

  A moan of ecstasy slipped through Caryn’s lips, followed rapidly by another, then another. She felt the heat of Logan’s large body sweep down the length of hers, felt his hardness grow harder while her head thrashed wildly back and forth on the pillow.

  The pleasure he gave her escalated and spiraled out of control, sending her hurtling into a fiery blaze of awesome, shuddering ecstasy. She screamed his name at the same time he groaned out hers. Together they climbed the peaks of fulfillment with gusts of desire shaking them long after the turbulence of their passions had quieted and cooled.

  Caryn turned away from him, pressing her face to the pillow to stop the words of love from escaping. She hadn’t wanted to admit it, but she had made a mistake to sleep with Logan, and she wondered how long it would take before she blurted out her love for him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  July seventh—

  I did it! I slept with Logan. It’s not as if I’d planned for to happen, but it did.

  I suppose I can blame it on the summer storm that swept up the coast, but that’s taking the coward’s way out. It’s so hard to explain—just like everything which has happened to me since I arrived on Marble Island.

  I’d promised myself I wouldn’t cut my hair until I turned thirty, and I have. I’d also told myself I wouldn’t fall in love again, and I have. And for that I must blame Logan Prescott. I don’t know what it is about him, but whatever it is, it won’t permit me to follow the dictates of my mind.

  Common sense told me not to try to drive back to Marble Island during a tropical storm, but I made the attempt because all I thought about was Logan and how I wanted to be with him. What had begun as a totally wonderful day wherein I treated myself to a day of beauty—haircut, facial, full body massage, manicure and pedicure—ended with my risking my life driving back to the island in a torrential downpour and dangerously high winds.

  The moment I heard Logan’s voice, felt his arms around me, I realized how much I loved him.

  Sleeping with him is an exquisite experience. I’m unable to put into words just how I feel when he’s inside me. And the passion he arouses is frightening, unbelievably frightening, because there are times when I want to scream out how much I’ve come to love him.

  Loving him is my secret and will always remain my secret.

  Logan scrolled down the screen on his laptop containing the zoning board proposal, listening intently to his father’s voice coming through the receiver on the cellular telephone.

  “There shouldn’t be a question of ingress and egress because the entire development is laid out in a quadrangle,” he argued softly. “Look at the plans again, Dad, and you’ll see what I’m referring to.”

  “Hold on a minute, son. There are so damn many papers on my desk that I can’t … wait a minute, I have it.” There was a slight pause. “I see what you mean. It looks good. In fact it looks very good. Nice work.”

  “Thank you.”

  “There shouldn’t be too much of a debate over this one,” Jace remarked, confidence filling his deep, authoritative voice.

  Logan smiled, nodding. “I also figured as much.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “Have you had any feedback on new investors?”

  “Nothing yet. But I’m confident we’ll find someone to finance this construction project.”

  “I hope you’re right, Dad.”

  “How often have I been wrong, Logan?”

  “Not often.”

  “Precisely. I’m not trying to put any pressure on you to return to Raleigh, but I want you to think about becoming more involved in the firm.”

  A frown creased Logan’s smooth forehead. What was his father talking about? He was practically running the architectural firm. “How much more involved do you want me to be?”

  “I want you to take over.”

  His fingers tightened on the palm-size instrument, squeezing until he left an impression of the telephone on his palm. “When did you decide this?”

  “Maeve and I talked about this the day you called.”

  “She told you why I called off the wedding?”

  “Yes. And I don’t blame you. But this has nothing to do with Nina Smith or her father. I’ll turn sixty-nine at the end of October, and I no longer want the full responsibility of running a company at my age. I’ve been promising your mother I’d take a few months off and go on an around-the-world cruise with her. I probably could’ve put her off until next year, but she’s given me an ultimatum.”

  “What’s the ultimatum?”

  “She’ll ask Edwina Mattison to go with her.”

  “Dad, she can’t. Edwina is worse than a blood-crazed shark when it comes to men. You don’t want Mama’s reputation compromised by vacationing with that woman.”

  “Precisely.”

  “When are you thinking of stepping down?”

  “As soon as you return. I’d prefer it sooner than later.”

  Logan’s gaze narrowed as he stared out at the beach where Caryn sat on the sand with Domino while the dog sniffed at her bare feet. How could he leave her now? How could he walk away from the woman who had helped him let go of his anger and bitterness? A woman who showed him how to love. A woman he’d fallen in love with.

  His expression was impassive. “I’d rather it be later.”

  “How much later, son?”

  “The end of the summer.”

  “I thought you were only going to be away for a month.”

  “I’ve changed my mind.” And his change in plans was because of the woman with whom he was sharing a beachfront house. Not only was he sharing the house, but also her bed.

  “Then I’ll look for your return at the end of the summer.” There was no mistaking the disappointment in Jace Prescott’s voice.

  “I’ll call you in a couple of days.”

  Depressing a button, he ended the call, cursing softly under his breath. His father’s decision to retire had come at the wrong time. If Jace stepped down as CEO of J. Prescott and Associates, then he was expected to oversee the day-to-day operations of the architectural and design firm. He would no longer enjoy the luxury of working from home and going into the office two or three times a week. And he also would not have the option of spending weeks at a time on an island like Marble Island. Unlike Caryn, he would not have the summers for his leisure.

  He’d contacted Hamilton and Cynthia, putting off their visit until midweek once he realized he wanted more time alone with Caryn. They’d been sleeping together for less than a week, and the anticipation of sharing of her body each night had escalated instead of declining. They usually breakfasted together, but did not see each other again until late afternoon. He often wondered where she went whenever she drove away in her car, yet could not bring himself to ask her. But this morning was different. She had remained on Marble Island.

  Staring at the beach, he watched Caryn rise to her feet, her black swimsuit–clad body clearly outlined against the sun-bleached sand and calm gray waters of the Atlantic. She waded into the surf, then turned and glanced over her shoulder at Domino, who appeared reluctant to venture into the ocean.

  Logan rose to his feet and whistled sharply between his teeth. The Dalmatian’s ears lifted, and he turned quickly and bounded back to the porch. “Stay, boy,” he commanded softly. The frisky puppy lay down on the top step, placing his muzzle between his spotted paws.

  Man and dog watched while Caryn dove over a wave and swam strongly out into the oce
an. Then, as if on cue, both went completely still, staring intently as she disappeared from their field of vision.

  Logan moved off the porch and made his way to the beach, his gaze fixed on the area where he’d last seen Caryn. Not realizing he’d been holding his breath, he released it when he saw her swimming back to the shore. Why were his protective instincts so strong with her when they hadn’t been with any other woman?

  But then he had to ask himself whether she needed protecting. There was no doubt she could handle herself physically, and she certainly wasn’t reticent about telling a man what she wanted and did not want. She hadn’t hesitated letting him know that she was willing to sleep with him, but wanted nothing more. There would be no declarations of love or talk of a commitment. He smiled as she neared him. Even though she’d denied it, and despite her overall gentle nature, he still thought of her as scrappy.

  Her smile matched his. “Why don’t you come in? The water’s at least seventy-five degrees.”

  Reaching out, he caught her hand and pulled her to his side, the moisture from her wet body seeping into his shirt and shorts.

  “That sounds like a wonderful inviation. Wait here for me to change.”

  Caryn sat on the beach, her gaze fixed on the ocean when Logan returned wearing a pair of Speedos. She jumped slightly as he sat down beside her and eased her onto his lap.

  “A penny for your thoughts,” he whispered close to her ear.

  Smiling, she rested her head against his shoulder. “They’re more like a hundred dollars.”

  He whistled. “That’s rather steep.”

  “They’re rather profound,” she said in a solemn tone. And they were. How could she tell him he occupied her waking thoughts and now even her dreams? How could she tell him she loved him so much she ached whenever she thought of not seeing him? That she left Marble Island after breakfast to distance herself from him.

  “Can you afford to listen?” she teased.

  Tightening his grip on her waist, he pressed his lips to her wet curly hair. “I’ll stop you when you deplete my bank balance.”

  “I feel I’m at a crossroads in my life,” Caryn began, closing her eyes. “I love teaching, but I feel as if I could walk away from it without too many regrets. I felt like this at another time when I decided I wanted to change disciplines. Day after day I’d walk into the classroom and watch the blank stares on some students’ faces whenever we discussed the works of Charles Dickens, Edith Wharton, James Baldwin, or Toni Morrison. It was as if they didn’t care about what these brilliant writers had to say through their written words.

  “I taught literature for three years, then took courses to enable me to teach life and career skills. I noticed the different attitudes immediately. I was teaching something most kids could relate to. For them discussing how to manage a limited budget, or how to prepare nutritious inexpensive meals was more to their liking. I love the give-and-take, the challenge of teaching, but there’s still something missing. I know it’s not my teaching skills, but something within me.

  “I feel a restlessness akin to what a nomad feels when she can’t settle in any particular place. It’s not a yearning to travel because I’ve done that. I’ve visited Europe twice, and fulfilled a lifelong passion to see several African countries. I’ve tried analyzing what it is and can only come up with the justification that I’d moved around too much as a child.

  “Every time my parents opened a new B&B, I had to leave my friends at one school to make new ones in a different state. I’d come to think of myself as a gypsy, and there were times when I actually dressed like one. One teacher in particular wrote a note home to my parents complaining about my style of dress—”

  “What did they say?” Logan asked, interrupting her monologue for the first time.

  “They saw nothing wrong with it. They told her I was very artistic and that I was just expressing myself with long flowing skirts and what I now think of as loads of very tacky jewelry.”

  “Were you a popular student?”

  “Not with the girls, but the boys loved what they said was my ‘free spirit.’ At that time I wore my hair down to my hips, and I had affected the habit of not putting any oil on it whenever it was humid. Everyone said I looked like a throwback to the hippie and Woodstock era with hair sticking out all over my head.”

  Logan chuckled, his gaze sweeping over the short, shiny curls clinging to her well-shaped head. “The girls probably hated you because you were so much more beautiful than they were.”

  Curving an arm around his slender waist, Caryn laughed softly. “You’re wonderful for a woman’s ego.”

  “It’s not your ego I want to appeal to, sweetheart.”

  She felt her breath catch in her throat, then start up again, increasing in rhythm until she was almost lightheaded. No, she cried silently.

  “Don’t, Logan,” she said, finding her voice. “Don’t make what we have more complicated than it should be. You have to know I like you, otherwise I’d never permit myself to sleep with you.”

  Fighting to control his temper, Logan swallowed back the virulent words poised on the tip of his tongue. She was using him. Using him for her own sexual gratification.

  “What is it you want?” His voice was deceptively, calm, soft.

  “Friendship,” she replied without hesitating.

  The hell with friendship, he shouted silently. Friends did not sleep together. And friends were usually honest with each other. He wanted to tell her he loved her, but she did not want his love. If he could, he would pack up everything and leave her and Marble Island, but now that he’d sampled her flesh he knew he was lost, lost in the passion she aroused in him just by existing.

  “Friendship is what you want and friendship you shall have.” Tightening his grip on her body, he stood up and held her effortlessly in his embrace.

  She buried her face in the hollow between his neck and shoulder, eliciting a smile from Logan. He couldn’t let her go any more than he could stop breathing, knowing he would love Caryn Edwards until the day he drew his last breath.

  They swam, floated weightlessly on the calm waters, then after tiring returned to the house. Logan returned Domino to his cage, while Caryn retreated to her bathroom to shower. She shampooed her hair and had applied an instant conditioner at the same time as the door to the stall opened.

  Logan stepped under the flow of the lukewarm water. “I thought I’d share your shower and save water.” His midnight gaze caressed her face and body, taking in the rich buckskin-brown hue of her face and a deeper, richer brown on her shoulders and back. It was apparent the sun loved Caryn Edwards. It had kissed her flesh, resulting in beautiful vibrant browns from chestnut to rosewood.

  Giving him a saucy smile, Caryn tilted her chin to meet his amused stare. “I didn’t know you were also an environmentalist.”

  “I didn’t know it myself until now,” he whispered, pulling her wet, naked body to his.

  Her hands moved slowly up his hard chest, feeling muscle and sinew as they registered the unleashed power in his upper body. She hadn’t realized how wide his shoulders were until now, and she doubted whether her arms would meet around them.

  He stood motionless, nothing moving, not even his eyes. She drank in his male beauty with his high, chiseled cheekbones, smooth and nearly poreless black skin, and his perfectly balanced features.

  Going on tiptoe, she pressed her mouth to his, his lips parting and permitting her tongue to dance with his. Logan was forced to move when his hands circled her waist, and he lifted her until her head was even with his. Caryn curved her arms around his strong neck, deepening the kiss until she felt their hearts beating in unison.

  Their passions rose quickly, and neither remembered when they sank to the floor of the stall and loved the other until time stood still. Simultaneously, their passions exploded, their world tilting on its axis and leaving them gasping in the sweetest ecstasy they had ever known.

  Caryn studied her face in the mirror ove
r the vanity, using her fingertips to comb her gel-slicked hair off her forehead and over her ears.

  She and Logan had spent most of the morning in bed, sleeping, awakening to lengthening afternoon shadows. They showered again—this time separately after agreeing to dine out.

  She smoothed the body-revealing dress down over her flat belly and turned slightly to survey her hips. The black jersey tank dress clung to every curve, ending four inches above her knees. Reaching down, she slipped her bare feet into a pair of three-inch black patent leather sling-strap sandals. Glancing up at the mirror, she saw Logan walk into her bedroom, and there was no mistaking his reaction to her attire. She straightened and turned slowly, meeting his startled gaze.

  “I’m ready,” she said softly.

  Logan opened his mouth several times before he was able to speak. “You look exquisite.”

  And he hadn’t lied. Caryn had brushed most of the curl out of her hair and smoothed it off her face. The style would have looked less than feminine on another woman, but the delicateness of her face shattered that image. The vermilion color on her lips competed with the brilliant color of her gold-green eyes.

  Reluctantly, he tore his gaze away from her face and leisurely surveyed her body. The tiny black dress hugged her curves like second skin, offering him a glimpse of tanned womanly breasts rising above the low-cut décolletage. The straps were so narrow, he marveled how they held the garment up. Strong, shapely, smooth legs and well-groomed feet complemented her breathtaking appearance.

  How could he escort her into Addie’s, where he was certain more than half the men on Marble Island would be lusting after her? Foreign emotions surfaced, he recognized them instantly as jealousy and possessiveness. He didn’t want another man to look at her, let alone touch her. How was he going to make it through the summer without going crazy?

  Caryn’s smile was dazzling. “Thank you.”