She surveyed her surroundings. The building had been in better shape. The windows had been intact, the patios only slightly overgrown. But, like now, the house radiated a magical glow Selena couldn't explain. Unless, the magic was love. Logan had given the impression his grandparents were lovers until the day they died.
A long electrical cord trailed from a tall pole adjacent to the drive to the house. She followed the cord. When Selena approached the open front door, Tanya greeted her, her tail wagging. Selena knelt down and hugged the old dog. “Where is he?” she breathed. In response, Tanya whined and ran back through the open door. Selena followed her.
An entry floor of black slate led to a step down into an immense, seemingly empty, living room. Tanya stood poised on the edge of the step, looking toward a mattress placed alongside the stone fireplace at the end of the dimly lit room. Logan lay on his back on the mattress, in the same room, in almost the same spot they'd lain long ago. She strolled across the hardwood floor, slowly, wondering if he was asleep, or just waiting for her to come to him before saying anything.
After stepping over the extension cord, Selena stopped beside the mattress. He was asleep. A rolled up jacket and his left hand pillowed his head. A hammer, saw, and tool bag lay a few feet away. It looked as if he'd been dismantling a built-in bookcase.
Selena sat down beside him and studied the way his black hair fell across his wide forehead; the way his long black lashes seemed to touch his cheek; his straight nose; his full, inviting lips; his strong jaw line. Suddenly she remembered all the anguish his immaturity once caused her and was no longer certain she wanted to be there.
I can't do this ... I just can't...
When she put her hand down to push to her feet, his right hand clamped her wrist. “It took you long enough,” he murmured as he steadily pulled her forward with one hand while the other deftly removed the clasp from her hair, freeing her curls to fall around her shoulders.
She wanted to say something, but couldn't. When her breasts came in contact with his chest her uncertainty disappeared, and all she could image, all she wanted, was the taste of his lips as he brought them purposefully to hers. It was as right now as it had been before. This was where she belonged. Sixteen years of feeling restlessly lost—of always feeling like a strange, shadowy alien—vanished the moment his mouth claimed hers.
His kiss was a gentle fondling as he rolled her to lie beside him. Her fingers worked the buttons of his shirt loose until she could feel his heated flesh against the palms of her hands. As she slid her hands over the hardened tips of his nipples, he shuddered, and a groan came from deep in his throat.
He backed away.
"Logan?"
Saying nothing, he yanked his shirt off and tossed it in a corner. Seconds later the rest of their clothing followed his shirt. Then his hands cupped her face, his mouth coming down on hers again—only this time potently and filled with an almost desperate passion. The yearning hunger she felt in him inflamed her and twisted her heart at the same time. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him; wanting to tell him how much she loved him; wanting to hear the words echoed from his lips.
His strong adept fingers slid down to her breasts, teasing first one, until it tensed with pleasure, then the other. Logan's lips left hers, his tongue, tracing a line to his kneading fingers.
Minutes later it became clear to her from the tender way his hands aroused and persuaded her, the way his mouth and tongue tasted and tantalized her skin, the way he ran his fingers down the scar on her hip, that his body was speaking the love words for him.
Whether he admitted it or not, Doctor Patrick Logan loved her. One day she would hear him say it.
Selena caressed him slowly over his back, then circled her palms across his chest, down his arms, intoxicated by the rakish texture of the tense muscles she found, explored. Elated with the taste of him and the way his skin quivered against her lips, she smiled when she heard his breath hiss between his teeth as her tongue flicked its way across his chest.
It was only seconds before Logan hauled her up against him and took control. “It's my turn,” he whispered hoarsely. “I want to see if you're as out of practice as I am."
When Logan's fingers slipped into the wetness between her thighs, while his mouth inflamed her, she could bear it no longer. Selena held his face between her hands, bringing his mouth back to hers. As their tongues met, mated, she reached between them and guided him to her. Slowly, sensuously, she stroked him against her until she felt him lose control.
As she welcomed Logan into her, the virginal pain of years ago returned momentarily, reminding her of the years she'd waited for him, then Selena soared, mind and body to a time-stopping release. She tried to slow down, to control it, but she couldn't.
When her body stretched and shuddered in fulfillment, Logan was with her. He had always been with her.
"I love you, Logan,” she gasped near his ear, holding him tightly, not wanting him to withdraw from her. She hadn't meant to say the words. Yet time seemed vague, as if nothing had ever separated them. She'd given him everything, had no regrets. Her declaration was as unshakable now as it had been sixteen years ago.
Logan sucked in a deep breath, releasing it slowly. God, how I want her to be telling the truth. Still, it seemed impossible Selena could give herself to him with such sweetness, such feverishness, merely out of greed. A chill seeped through him as images of times past became vividly alive in his mind. Visions of them laughing, playing together, of them having serious discussions about what they wanted for the future. For the first time in his life, Logan had had a best friend, and the desire to share his most private dreams—and it was the last time. Never before meeting her, and not since, had he experienced the oneness, almost alter-ego encounter he had when with Selena. And, to his consternation, the sensation immediately returned the moment he saw her again.
Her impassioned tears crept out from under her long, silky lashes. He brushed them away with his thumbs. “You make my blood feel like a tidal wave in my veins,” he murmured against her lips. The first time he'd made her his, she'd snared his soul.
"I know,” she whispered, her hands stroking his back, his hips. “I feel it, too."
She pressed her hips upward, settling him deeper within her, and he groaned. “I need you, Selena."
"I'm here, Logan. I'm not going anywhere."
The tip of her tongue traced his bottom lip, his chin, the side of his neck, making his blood heat and his heart race. “If you keep that up, you may have to suffer the outcome."
"I can feel the repercussions already.” Selena nibbled at his earlobe. “Make me suffer, Logan,” she whispered, teasing him.
He could feel himself growing hard within her. Wrapping his arms around her, he rolled so she was now on top, straddling him.
Trembling, her hands braced on his chest, and her red-blond curls swayed, grazing her flushed cheeks. He watched her eyes, glistening with desire, as she tightened around him, moving, releasing him, and settling down on him again.
When her head tilted back, her breasts, jutting forward, Logan moved with her until he felt her reach a climax as fiery as his own. Logan brought her heated, eager lips to his as he rolled her to her back. He kissed her eyes, her ears, the side of her neck, between her firm, rounded breasts, until their breathing slowed and the sweat on their bodies dried.
They needed to talk. But he couldn't talk to her while holding her this way and still make any sense. Regretfully, Logan lifted himself away from her then brought her close against his side, her head resting on his shoulder.
Sighing, he tried to focus on where to start. There seemed no right place. He cleared his throat. “I need us to discuss us—and just what we should do about us.” His mind said if her money-hunger was strong enough, she'd bring up marriage. Yet, his heart considered him a fool, when what he really wanted was to talk to her, make love to her, enjoy her mind, body, soul, and forget everything else that interfered.
&nbs
p; Her breath caught, and she stiffened. Were the insults about to begin again? “If you're asking me again to be your live-in friend, I can't do that, Logan,” she mumbled into his shoulder, not wanting to see his eyes if his mood had changed. “I have a family, a home."
Logan cupped her chin, turning her face, searching her eyes. They were still dark with passion, lustrous, serious. If she was acting, she was doing a magnificent job. “You'd consider an affair?"
She stared at him for a long time, keeping her expression soft, showing none of the anger he seemed to expect. “No,” she said finally. “I can't just think about myself. Gregg's important in my life and me in his."
"I see. Does this mean you think the goal of our relationship should be marriage or nothing?"
"Marriage, commitment, and a whole lot of strings,” Selena answered softly, meaning every word.
"What if an affair is as far as I'm willing to go?"
Selena pushed up on one elbow, resting her head on her hand with her fingers embedded in her curls. “I love you, Logan, but I can't—I won't hurt my son for you or anyone else.” She sighed, shaking her head. “This is an old conversation, Logan. You want no promises, no strings, and yet you talk of creating a situation that would demand both from me.” She hesitated, thinking he looked as bewildered with their situation as she was, and it bolstered her faith in him. “I just told you how I feel about you.” She shrugged. “Ball's in your court."
"I'm not husband material, Selena.” Logan peered out the arched window of the living room at the bewitching, crimson-touched evening sky. That's what she was doing to him, bewitching him. “And I don't have what it takes to be a father."
"Please, Logan, don't underestimate yourself.” She reached out and gently stroked his lips with her fingertips. “I've seen you with the children. I don't agree."
He caught her hand and kissed each finger, then ran his tongue across her palm, feeling her tremble. “Being a doctor and being a father aren't the same thing."
Selena withdrew her hand and sat up. How could such a learned man fathom so little about himself? “Being someone who cares is,” she countered. “I've seen you comfort them, discipline them with sensitivity, and play with them. What else is there?"
He focused on the calm rise and fall of her breasts, aching to taste them again. “As you've probably noticed, your son and I don't hit it off.” His tone had sounded harsher than he'd intended, but he couldn't help it.
Selena closed her eyes then opened them slowly. “Gregg has his problems, but they are surmountable."
Logan sat up beside her. “Oh, and what's the magic formula?"
At first Selena looked hard at him, willing him to get the message, then she just wanted to leave him alone to think things over. “Gregg must be the one to tell you anything."
Her expression seemed to say she'd blocked him out. She maneuvered to get up, and Logan rose with her, not ready to end the conversation or their time together. “And just how is that supposed to happen?” Selena shifted closer to him. Her aroused, taunting nipples brushed his chest as she kissed his mouth gently.
She knelt near her clothes. “I guess if you want to communicate with him badly enough, you'll figure it out."
Logan pursued her and grabbed her arm. “I'm not crazy about riddles, Selena."
When she placed her hand on his, he released her, but she kept his hand in hers. “I'm sorry, Logan,” she said gently. “I don't like them either, but it seems as though I'm constantly living one.” She released his hand and slipped into her clothes.
He admired her tantalizing curves as she dressed; wanting to peel off everything she was putting on. “I'll be talking with my father tonight. Then I want to see you again."
Though she tried to control it, his words made her jump. “When?” She blinked nervously. “I mean, when will you see him?"
Logan glanced at his watch. “He should be here in a few minutes.” It was his chance to test her honesty. If his father really said anything to her, she'd want to be here to see his reaction. “Why don't you stay and listen?"
She tugged her disheveled curls together and replaced the clasp he'd removed earlier then scooped her purse from the floor. “No thanks,” she said, backing her way to the door. “He wouldn't welcome that idea.” She sighed, still moving. “I wish there were a magic formula to reach him with."
Logan yanked on his jeans, and trailed her to the door. If she loved him as she said, if greed wasn't her purpose, she would stay and face his father. At this moment it didn't matter; he wanted her to stay. She belonged with him.
When she stopped beside the door, Logan tugged her gently into his arms. “My father has nothing to do with you and me, Selena. I don't ask approval from him or any other member of my family.” He kissed her then, but she wasn't responding. He let her go. Watching her and noting that her stride seemed smoother than usual as she approached her car.
"I don't believe your father needs to be asked, Logan. And if it were just me, I wouldn't give a darn what strings he pulled. But I can't place my son or my mother under his heels."
He didn't understand; however, it seemed definite she wasn't about to explain it. The answers lay with his father.
The sun was in its last throws of daylight as Logan watched until her car went over the last hill and out of his sight. Then he leaned down and flipped a switch on the electrical cord, turning on the three shop lights he'd attached to it. He glanced across the dimly lit room at the mattress. The room seemed filled with the warm scents of their lovemaking.
He smiled. Selena was right. His father wouldn't approve.
He'd hardly more than thought it, when the bright rays from headlights were visible, coming up the drive. His heart skipped a beat. Was Selena coming back? Then he leaned against the doorframe as the large, dark shape of his father's limo came to a standstill a few feet away.
Brian Logan's steps were long as he marched toward Logan, carrying a manila envelope in his hand, his forehead, wrinkled in a frown, his eyes, disapproving. “That woman was here,” he stated the obvious as he stationed himself in front of Logan.
"Care to come in?” Logan asked, gesturing for his father to enter.
Brian's frown grew more severe as he took in the evidence of lovemaking. “You know, Patrick, you've proven yourself to be an intelligent doctor. However, when it comes to recognizing character, you are sadly lacking in insight."
Logan moved across the room to lift his shirt from the floor. He observed his father surreptitiously as he buttoned his shirt. “Do you think so?"
"Dammit, Patrick, I know so.” He stepped under the closest shop light Logan had hung from the wall, carefully opening his envelope to emphasize his meaning. “If you'll look at these, I believe you'll see I am right."
"What are they?” Logan asked as he took the photos.
"I think they speak for themselves."
Logan shuffled the photos. Selena, with her hands on Reggie Van Teal's chest, smiling at him, her eyes glowing. Selena, leaning against Devon Marco, looking up at him, her full, sweet mouth parted as if inviting a kiss. Selena, while she strolled beside Devon on his property. Selena with Devon, her familiar shape was visible through the curtains of a bedroom window. A shaft of pain stabbed at Logan's chest, then anger simmered below the surface of his skin.
"As you can see, you aren't the only man with money she's hunting."
His throat hurt from holding back the aching, angry groan pushing against it. Logan didn't want to believe what his eyes could see. He wanted to hit his father. “How did you come by these?"
"I've had Telly following her since you made the offer for this property."
"Butt out, Dad. I want you to call Telly off.” He savagely stuffed the photos back in the envelope and flung them at his father's feet. “I don't want you or anybody else spying on Selena. It's my business what I do with my life."
"When what you do involves the family's reputation, it becomes my business.” Brian paced a straight lin
e to the door; his expression emphatically dismissed any further debate. And Logan couldn't find enough energy to argue with him. “I'll let you keep those, Patrick. They were worth every penny."
Logan shut his eyes, remembering the feel of her in his arms, the taste of her lips, the softness of her words as she'd said, “I love you, Logan.” Her eyes said she meant it; her touch said she meant it.
Logan opened his eyes. He couldn't believe his absentmindedness. He'd forgotten to bring up his father's confrontation with Selena on Friday night. It was too late; the limo was already halfway down the drive.
Frustrated, he snatched the envelope from the floor. Did he believe Selena had lain in bed with Reggie? He laughed wryly. His father didn't know it, but good ol’ Reggie hadn't slept with a girl since prep school. And, the last time he'd talked to him, nothing had changed. If Selena was trying to charm Reggie, she was in for a surprise.
Devon was another matter. He loved beautiful women, and money was something Devon Marco would never run out of.
He would call his old buddies tonight.
Tomorrow he would let Selena explain what she was doing with Reggie and Devon. A little voice told him he was taking a risk. He could lose her altogether if he made her angry, accused her if she were really innocent. The photos didn't look at all innocent. He had to take the chance. He would know if she lied to him.
He tucked his shirt in his pants, flicked off the lights, and headed for his truck. If she lied to him, it probably wouldn't matter. He had to have her. It took him sixteen years to understand how barren his life was without Selena McRae Flynn.
Logan couldn't remember the last time confusion had gripped him the way it did now. Somehow he would just make sure she didn't encounter any more rich men. And, somehow make sure that her son, and his father didn't stand in his way.
Secrets and Lies Page 12