Deep down she wanted to protest his withdrawal, but as he turned, she realized the door to his office had opened. One of the dark-haired men she’d seen Logan with earlier stood there. “Sorry, Logan. The doctor called. He wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
The other dark-haired man slipped past the first, his sharp gaze taking in their embrace. Rachel could see the suspicion in his eyes, and she didn’t blame him. What was he supposed to think after she’d passed out on the pool deck and was now found in a passionate moment with her rescuer? It sounded like a plot for a bad romantic comedy. Except there wasn’t anything comedic about it. Was the pregnant brunette out there, too? Rachel stepped back from Logan, felt his grasp loosen reluctantly. “You have guests. I should go.”
Logan gave her a glare that held her in place for a moment. “Why? Aren’t you up for dinner tonight?”
No. I shouldn’t be with you. You might actually be good for me and I can’t risk that. She opened her mouth to say she couldn’t make it, but the flame-haired woman from earlier entered.
“Did you say dinner?”
“I’m famished.” And there she was. The beautiful, young pregnant woman. She smiled at Rachel, oblivious to the sharp pain her presence struck in Rachel’s breast. “You look like you could use some food.”
Logan rolled his eyes. “Rachel, this overbearing lot are my friends. Andre, Tony…” The two dark-haired men nodded. The sharp-eyed man was Tony. His brother Andre looked a little more relaxed. “…Andre’s wife Stacey and Tony’s fiancée Lydia. They decided to surprise me.”
“N-nice to meet you.” Rachel summoned a smile.
“Tony and Lydia are planning their wedding here this summer. They came down for one more look at the place—”
“And to help you celebrate.” Stacey, her lovely face glowing with the unmistakable aura of imminent motherhood, reached out to take Logan’s hand.
Rachel noticed Logan’s wince, quickly covered by a smile. Curious, she tore her eyes away from Stacey. “Celebrate what?”
“My birthday.” Logan spoke as if it were too difficult to open his mouth completely, his teeth slightly gritted.
“Oh.” She recoiled. “You didn’t mention that.”
“I don’t really celebrate it…anymore.” Logan gave his friends a brief glance.
“Well, if you’re going to start celebrating now, you don’t want me around.”
As she started to turn away, his hand caught hers. When she turned back, he spoke mildly, “You’re wrong about that.”
“Of course you are.” Stacey stepped forward with a smile. Rachel couldn’t help but notice that Lydia kept her distance, her arms folded over her breasts, her gaze slightly suspicious. But Stacey obviously had no qualms about the strange woman she’d just found in her friend’s arms. “You really should join us for dinner. Especially if you and Logan had plans anyway.”
“We didn’t—”
“Yes. We did.” Logan gave her a quelling look.
“Nothing absolute.” She raised a hand as if to ward him off and he laughed.
“You’re not getting out of it that easy.” He bent his head to whisper in her ear, “You said I’d be worth waiting for. I intend to prove you right.”
His lips brushed the skin beneath her ear and a tremble went through her. Maybe, just for tonight… She looked up at him, forgetting for a moment that they were surrounded by people of varying degrees of friendliness.
“I’m not taking no for an answer.” He turned to the door again, pulling her along with him. A woman with frosted hair stepped back in surprise when the door opened. She held a robe and Logan took it smoothly. “Thank you, Tammy.” He glanced over Rachel’s head at his stunned friends. “I’m going to take Rachel back to her room. In spite of your surprise visit, your rooms should be ready by now, too.” As he spoke, he deftly helped Rachel into the robe, even tying the belt loosely around her waist.
“They are.” Tammy spoke with the competent air of a woman used to anticipating Logan’s every request. “In the same building as—hers.” Her voice faltered as if she couldn’t quite decide what to call Rachel.
“Good.” Logan took Rachel’s hand again. “We’ll meet you all by the pool after Rachel has a chance to shower.” He waved over his shoulder and propelled Rachel outside.
Only when he had her seated in the golf cart did he release her. She gave him an amused look. “You’re not used to people saying no to you, are you?”
He raised an eyebrow, giving her a half smile. “I’m not sure I know why anyone would want to. I’m always right.”
She laughed at the outrageous statement but she noticed the slight touch of irony in his voice. Not only did he not believe he was always right, she wondered if he had any faith left in himself at all. We’re more alike than I thought. Nora’s death obviously still weighed on him. The idea saddened her, and she quickly shook it off. If she started feeling sympathetic to him, she’d begin feeling sorry for herself and she’d sworn she’d never shed another tear.
“Why do you do that?” He glanced at her as he pulled onto the path.
“What?” She inspected her nails. She’d painted them red that morning and she was pretty sure they wouldn’t chip so soon, but it gave her an excuse not to pay any attention to him.
“Put up that wall. You start to look almost human for an instant and then I blink and you’re back to being a goddess again.”
She smiled, looking at him from under her thick eyelashes, knowing she could seduce him just as she’d seduced so many other men. Lesser men and boys, yes, but he had the same foibles. She could do it. “You think I’m a goddess?”
“I think you’re a woman.” His firm voice jolted her into looking directly at him. Only when she bit her lip and turned away did he speak again, his voice softer. “A woman in pain.”
If he only knew. She didn’t look back at him, knowing her eyes would reveal too much at that moment. And if he knew, it would surely destroy her. She’d have to leave before he could find out. For the first time since her arrival, she began looking for an exit plan.
****
He endured the rest of the silent drive back to her room stoically, refusing to give in. He’d pierced the icy layer she shielded herself with, and he wasn’t going to back down. During those moments he’d held her in his arms in his office, he’d sensed the woman she was, the woman she had been. That woman could love, she would cry and laugh a real, tender laugh.
That was the woman he wanted to know. The woman who was mind-blowingly sexy without barriers. The woman he’d only glimpsed for an instant since she came to the island. Tony was partly right, he suspected. His perception of Rachel had changed. She was different from what he remembered, but she wasn’t letting him see the real woman at her core, either.
She’s there, though. Maybe it would take more than a little magic to free her from whatever it was that haunted her. Whatever she was hiding from.
He pulled into a spot next to her building and they both sat still for several seconds. Finally she spoke. “I don’t think I can be who you want me to be.” Her voice almost sounded gentle.
“You already are.” He reached for her hand, encouraged when she didn’t pull away. “When I kiss you, that’s who you are.” She raised her gaze to his and he thought he saw a flicker of something there. He kissed her hand.
Her lips parted, but then she smiled and stepped out of the cart, lithe as a cat. “I don’t know who you think I am, but it’s not me. On the other hand, if you’d like to take me to dinner, I’m willing.”
He got out of the cart. “Fine.”
“What?” She scanned him. “You gonna wash my back?”
“I’m not letting you out of my sight.” He brushed past her, leading the way into the building.
She laughed. “I can think of worse ways to shower.” She paused, a frown creasing her forehead. “Damn. I left my bracelet thingy in my bag. By the pool.”
“Not a problem.” He produced the d
uplicate he’d already obtained. He’d had valet services retrieve her bag earlier and take it to her room.
“You do think of everything, don’t you? And what luck. You’re a bartender and I need a drink.” She chortled, following him up the stairs to her room.
He doubted very much that she needed any such thing, but he didn’t want to say that. Instead, he slid an arm around her waist and opened the door, half leading, half propelling her through the entrance. “What did you have in mind?” At her sly look, he added, “to drink?”
“Oh, you know what I like.” She waved her hand and strolled across the floor, casually letting the robe slip from her shoulders as she ran the fingers of her right hand lightly across the back of the microsuede couch.
“Not really. I know you like mimosas.” He moved into the kitchenette, opening the minibar door and surveying the contents.
“I like sex on the beach better.”
He turned and caught her eye. The promise he read there made him smile a little in spite of himself. “Is that a suggestion?” He glanced at the minibar again. “I don’t think I have all the ingredients.”
She laughed. “Silly. We’ve got everything we need without anything in that little refrigerator.” She stalked across the floor to him, running her hands over his chest and tilting her head as if to kiss him, but instead he felt the warm wetness of her tongue flick across his lips, tempting him to suck it into his mouth, to take possession of her…
He backed away, startled again by the pure animalistic passion she could raise in him. He’d spent the past few years of his life avoiding any relationship that could threaten his reserve, either emotionally or passionately, but this woman had broken through his defenses. And their past just complicated things. “My friends will be waiting for us.”
“Not for at least an hour.” She nipped at his neck. “Plenty of time. And then we’ll both have what we really want and you can go on to dinner with them. No strings, I promise.”
As she spoke, her hands moved to the waistband of his shorts, her touch on his skin mesmerizing, arousing and electrifying at the same time. But her words had already penetrated his consciousness. He seized her wrists, pulling away at the same time. “You think that’s all I want from you. Sex.”
She looked up at him, her eyes dark in the sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains. “It’s all I have.”
****
She could see the words shake him to his core. It was what she wanted. If he would leave her, it would make what she had to do that much easier. Leave. I’m not what you need, what you want. I can’t be that person again.
I swore I’d never be that person. She hurts too much.
He took a step back, but his grasp on her hands never loosened. He shook his head. “I don’t believe you.”
“Dammit.” She yanked her hands away from him, turning, her anger and near despair spilling over. “What the hell is wrong with you? Why? Why do you want to insist on believing in me? You barely know me. Why can’t you just fuck me and leave like the rest of them?”
He didn’t flinch at her rude language, his face impassive. “That’s what you want? You want me to make love to you?”
“No!” She gasped it, her breath short. Yes, God yes. She raised her hands to shove him away. “I said fuck me, not make love to me. You want me. You’ve wanted me since last night. You and your little magic trick. Trying to make me feel special. God!” She shoved him again, harder this time, and he surprised her by catching her around the waist and holding her against him. Images whirled through her head. Nora’s face, the beautiful pregnant woman. Stacy. Nora’s baby girl. Jasmine. A hand on a swelling belly, full of promises…but those promises had all been broken.
She tried to push him away, shaking her head. Something wet splashed against her arm and she froze, staring at it in shock. A low moan worked its way through her throat and escaped her mouth. Not this. Not the tears. Not the crying. The black hole yawned in her soul. In another moment it would engulf her. To stop herself from splitting apart, she wrapped her arms around herself and crumpled to the floor, escaping his grasp at last.
She felt him kneel beside her, and she struck out savagely, the tears nearly blinding her. “Get out! Get out, damn you. Just leave me alone.” Just leave. You let her die. You let Nora die. Just go and let me be. Let me die…
God, yes. It was what she’d known would come for her sooner or later. The sweet desire for nothingness. To let it have her, this yawning blackness in her core. It was all that was left of her soul. It seemed only right to let it take her. If he would just leave she could do it, finally, be done with all of it. If she could just make him go, the sleeping pills were in her cosmetic bag. There were enough. And the alcohol in the minibar. She could make it a party.
The threat of heart-tearing sobs eased off and the blood stopped roaring in her ears. Maybe he was gone. Hopefully, she raised her head, her arms still wrapped around herself. As she did so, however, she felt his hands on the skin of her rib cage, helping her stand.
She looked at him wearily, too tired to fight him off any longer. Why won’t he just leave? No longer considering what she was doing, she touched his face, letting her fingertips enjoy the smooth surface. She sighed. “I guess you of all people know what it’s like. To lose something. Permanently, I mean. Something you treasured more than anything and you realize all of a sudden that it’s gone.”
****
He almost recoiled at her statement but caught himself just in time. His heart ached for her. And for Nora, his dead wife. And Jasmine, his motherless daughter. He remained silent, hoping if she would just tell him what pain had brought her to this state, he’d be able to help her. Because if there was one thing he knew, it was pain. And guilt.
Her voice fell into his silence. “It was like that. Like losing the watch my grandmother gave me when I was at college. The moment I realized it was gone. The hours I spent retracing my steps and calling my friends and the frustration of knowing I’d just had it…I put it on my wrist that morning. And somehow it was gone.”
Her eyes took on a faraway look. “Then there’s the moment when you’ve exhausted every possibility and you realize…it’s just gone. The thing you loved and cherished and valued and thought you’d have forever is gone and it’s all your fault. And it’s late at night and you have to sleep and you know that when you wake up, it’ll still be gone.” Her voice faded a little. “Just gone.” She leaned her head against his chest. “You do know what that’s like, don’t you?”
He did know. With stunning clarity and unhinging certainty, he knew. And though he longed to know what precious thing she’d lost to bring her to this state, he didn’t ask. She would tell him eventually, but he couldn’t ask. “No one’s called me Ian since she died.” When she looked at him questioningly, he added, “Nora. You know that, though. After she died, I told everyone to call me Logan, but I didn’t say why.” He drew in a deep breath. “It’s because it was the last word she ever said to me. I called her and she put up the usual good front, telling me all the things I wanted to hear. The baby was fine, she was fine. I was in a hurry, so that was all I heard. I had to get onstage. I said good-bye, but just as I was about to hang up, I heard her say my name.”
He broke off, the pain on his face apparent. “I hung up. I had to get to the show. I told myself that whatever it was she’d thought of, it could wait. I was wrong. And after that, I couldn’t stand to hear anyone else say my name.” He lowered his gaze. “I know it was my fault. If I had just stopped a second to listen, if I’d just let her know I was there for her. Hell, I don’t even know where I was. Vegas, Los Angeles, New York. Wherever my next gig was.” He sighed. “She had to do it all alone. She had the baby while I was on stage. I called her between shows. I went home the next day, helped her bring the baby home, got them settled and flew back. Never missed a show.”
He led her to the couch and sat, pulling her with him. He could smell the salty scent of her dried sweat in her h
air. She smelled like the beach he’d come to love. He caressed her arm, feeling the light hairs beneath his palm. He kissed her forehead when she looked up at him. He could take her to the bedroom and make love to her. She wouldn’t fight him anymore and he could bury the rest of the story he never wanted to tell in the pleasure of holding her.
“Logan?”
Her voice broke into his pleasant musings, bringing him back to the reality of what he’d already confessed to the woman he wanted to save. Her eyes were red, but they’d lost their detached look. She wanted him to finish the story. He kissed her forehead and released her, sitting up. “I didn’t miss a show. What I missed was that my wife felt displaced in the big house I bought for us in California. After her mother left, she was alone, coping with the biggest change she’d ever experienced. And I was in Vegas, performing magic, working on my career. I never missed a show, but I missed the fact that my wife was depressed. The signs I saw I chalked up to baby blues of a first time mother, not post-partum depression. And then she was gone.”
He met her gaze. “So yeah. I know what it’s like to lose something.”
“I’m sorry, Logan.” Her voice trembled a little, and she cleared her throat. “You can’t take all the blame, though. I was there, too. I spent a week with her. Her mother and her sister, too. We all missed it. Maybe it wasn’t that obvious.”
“At least you were there.” He glanced over at her. “I wasn’t. I knew her best, and if I had been there with her where I should have been as her husband, or just listened while I had the chance…” He shrugged. “Well, maybe it’d be a different story.”
Island Magic Page 4