Mad enough to marry (12 page)

her little sister, and he'd been loathe to shrug off his mother and her problems.

Except, danm it, now they were his problems too, and they were going to impact his plans for Elena.

He kicked open the door to his apartment, then stalked into the extra bedroom to drop the luggage once again. When he returned to the living room, it was to see his mother looking around with appreciation, Elena hovering behind her.

**Lx)gan,*' his mother said, "I had no idea what a beautiful house this is. You've done wonders."

He grunted. *'Reuben, the guy who owned it before me, remodeled this apartment and the other one."

'*But Logan has done all the work on the first floor," Elena put in. **You wouldn't beheve how much he's accompUshed."

Sexual frustration, he could have told her, was behind all the progress. And just when he'd hoped to channel that energy into a much more natural, interesting direction...

''Mom," he said, "how long are you planning on staying here?"

"As long as it takes," she answered vaguely. She smoothed her hair and then looked down at her hands.

She was still wearing her wedding ring, Logan noted. He cleared his throat. "Well, uh, Elena and I were just about to go out and eat."

"Why don't you shower first, dear." Her gaze shifted to Elena. "Then I'll take you both out to dinner."

Several hours later he found himself sitting on the

floor in the parlor in front of the big-screen TV, surrounded by women.

It sucked.

His mother had commandeered one of the ratty re-cliners. Gabby and Elena squished into the other. Worse, the females had also taken over the remote control and were clicking between some made-for-TV movie starring a soap hunk they all recognized and a program that depicted a real-life labor and delivery of a real-life baby.

Just as a hospital-gowned mother-to-be emitted some spine-chilling moans, Logan heard the phone ringing upstairs.

He said he heard it, anyway.

Once inside his bedroom with two closed doors and the stairway between himself and the women, he dialed a familiar number. The housekeeper at the Chase estate answered. When he asked for his father, she said he wasn't at home. Nor was Mrs. Chase, she added in her pleasant voice.

*'I know," Logan responded with a heavy sigh. Mrs. Chase had definitely moved in with him, despite all his not-so-subtle hints that she'd be more comfortable elsewhere.

Replacing the phone on the receiver, from far away he heard the sound of female laughter. Wincing, he resisted the urge to hold his aching head. What could they find so funny about he-men or human birth?

But maybe they were laughing at the great big cosmic joke on Logan. His effort to extricate himself from the family business and from family expecta-

tions had now landed him smack-dab in the center of his parents' separation—and just as he had the woman who was the ultimate, freakin' fantasy of his life inches from his bed.

Another round of laughter from downstairs made the dull pounding in his head turn to a roar.

Because Mrs. Chase was now in residence at the Victorian, Elena figured the plan of Logan's that she'd agreed to was at the very least indefinitely postponed. She told herself she was grateful—^now she could use the time to explore some very sensible and quite rational second thoughts.

But then she unlocked the front door of the house late Friday night, and found Logan in near-darkness, lying in wait for her.

She stayed where she was, hand clutching the doorknob. He was truly lying in wait—his long body, illuminated by the meager glow of a light left on in the original kitchen, was stretched out on the floor at the bottom of the stairs, his head pillowed on what might be a roUed-up drop cloth. Coward that she was, she considered avoiding him by turning around and leaving the house. But she'd already spent ten hours at her day job followed by another two-and-a-half assisting the Friday-night class at the cooking school. She didn't have the energy.

So, instead, she shut the door behind her and trudged warily toward the silent Logan, tensed for whatever he wanted and whatever pressure he'd exert on her to get it. Would he suggest they go out for a

drink or maybe a late movie? Although she wasn't in the mood to be social after a day as long as this one, she was also fresh out of the starch she needed to resist him.

As she drew closer, she could see he wasn't going to make it easy for her either. His soft-looking cham-bray shirt was unbuttoned to reveal a wide, tantalizing slice of his hard, wide chest. Gaze glued there, she hesitated again.

Tell him no, she reminded herself. No way, no how —

Well, she couldn't expect the impossible. Just tell him ''not tonight.'*

Straightening her shoulders, she took a few resolute steps forward, then halted again when she suddenly reaUzed exactly why he was so silent.

He wasn't lying in wait after all.

He was lying on the floor, sound asleep.

Bemused, Elena moved closer to stand over him. From this distance and with her vision more accustomed to the three-quarter darkness, she could clearly see that his thick eyelashes were fanned against the chiseled angle of his cheekbones. His face was relaxed, and though it didn't look any younger or less masculine in repose, Logan asleep appeared less... worrisome.

Without a qualm, she took the unprecedented opportunity to study him. What a secret pleasure it was, to look at him to her heart's content without fearing she was giving anything away.

She let her gaze wander past his closed eyes and

his Straight, mascuUne nose to his so-interesting mouth. It was a wide mouth with full Ups, that even in sleep seemed to be on the verge of smiUng. An answering urge kicked up the edges of her own Ups as she took in his square chin roughened by a hint of stubble. The whiskers there would gUnt like gold if the Ught was brighter.

His pulse beat steadily against his neck and she looked past it to the wedge of curling, dark-gold hair she could see between the spread edges of his open shirt. The fabric framed the heavy, masculine swells of his pectoral muscles and she stared at them, fascinated.

Heat sparked low in her belly then trickled downward. She thought she could see his heart beating too, pulsing against the skin at the center of his breastbone.

Without thinking, she bent toward it, wanting to put her mouth on it, her mouth on him, there.

His eyes still closed, Logan suddenly jerked, his arms flinging outward.

Gasping, she jumped back, but his hand still smacked her calf then settled onto her foot. With a half murmur, half groan, he settled back into sleep.

Elena sighed. He'd have plenty more to groan about if he spent any more time on the floor. She tapped her foot to jiggle his hand. **Wake up."

He didn't do anything but breathe more deeply. Sighing again, she hunkered down, making sure to tuck her knee-length black skirt under her behind, and shook his shoulder. *'Logan. Logan, time for bed."

His eyes slowly opened, then even more slowly focused on her face. '*Wuz I dreaming or'd you say *timeforbed'?"

She decided against answering. *'Come on, big guy, get up."

His hand slid up her foot to circle her ankle. It felt hot against her sheer, nude-colored stockings. "Don't want to get up," he murmured, his lashes driftmg down again. **Too tired."

She frowned. '*Logan."

"Not moving," he answered, eyes still shut.

"You can't stay here all night."

He made an agreeable sound, but his muscles didn't shift.

"Logan..."

"Too tired," he murmured again. "Too tired to get up the stairs."

Shaking her head, she released another sigh. "Come on," she cajoled. "If you go upstairs you get a kiss good night."

One golden-brown eye creaked open. "From who?"

She grimaced. "Me, I suppose."

Dark lashes swept down. "Naah."

"For goodness sake," Elena spat out crossly, suddenly annoyed with him. Here she'd been almost afraid when she saw him, thinking he wanted her so badly. Now a promise of her kiss couldn't budge him!

She set her purse and tote bag on the floor and grabbed him under the arm. "You can thank me tomorrow." Then pulling, she half-rose.

**Whoa, whoa," he protested, but she threw her weight backward in order to haul him up. Just when it seemed as if she'd lose the battle and topple to the floor herself, he got to his feet.

''Persistent Uttle thing, aren't you?" he grumbled, blinking sleepily and looking rumpled and ridiculously attractive. "Can't you leave a guy alone?"

Elena propped her hands on her hips and glared. She was going to smack him, she really was, because she'd come home exhausted, and yet now there was definite electricity pulsing through her veins. Blame it on the brief adrenaline rush when she'd thought to avoid him, or the surge of lust from the pleasure of looking at his sleeping form, or the punch of energy needed to move his much bigger body.

Whatever the cause or causes, it meant another sleepless night, her mind buzzing with thoughts of kissing him, touching him, finally being with him.

If she never experienced a good night's sleep again it was going to be all his fault. She flung her arm toward the stairs and pointed. **Just get moving, would you?"

He cast another grumpy look at her over liis shoulder as he tramped up the steps. ' 'Bad day at the office, dear?"

She ignored the comment by focusing on the way the tails of his shirt hugged the denim curving over his rear end as he mounted the second flight of stairs. He shouldn't have that smile and that dark-golden hair and such a great behind, too. Really, there was just so much to resent about him.

Her ire was at a nice bubble when he paused outside the door of her apartment. **Keep moving, you're the next door down." With one hand at the small of his back, she gave him a shove.

Now why wasn't she surprised that he turned around instead of going forward?

She once again set her belongings on the floor and crossed her arms over her chest. **What now?"

It was mostly dark up here, too, and she couldn't read the expression on his face. *'I remember something about a kiss good night."

She rolled her eyes. *'Some other time. Rip Van Winkle."

He leaned one shoulder against her door. "What's got you riled?"

**Never mind." To move him out of the way, she put her hands on his chest. Bad idea. His skin was hot, his chest hair crisp against her palms. She jerked them away. *'Good night, Logan."

**My kiss." His voice still sounded sleepy, but there was a thread of amusement there too.

''Logan."

''Don't get so huffy, I'm too tired even to pucker up." He leaned forward and turned his cheek. ''Right here, sweetheart, and then I'll trudge down to my apartment and fall right back to sleep."

While she, on the other hand, would be left awake and aching. Oh, no. She refused to be the lone lust-tortured tonight. "Whatever you say, Logan," she said sweetly.

Then she rose on tiptoe and put her mouth against

his cheek. She didn't pucker up either. Instead, she left her mouth open and soft, then used her tongue to trace a wet path across to his lips.

His head automatically turned to meet hers and then she planted a juicy, sensual kiss on him. Holding on to his shoulders, she tilted her head to improve the fit of their mouths. She thrust her tongue between his lips, over the slick surface of his teeth, then laid it along his tongue, rubbing hers against his like a kitten in search of a cuddle.

His hands shot out to clutch her waist as she kept up the heat and the intensity of the kiss. Her palms sUd from his shoulders, down his shirt and then inward, returning to the bare skin of his chest. She drew the edges of his shirt apart, then pushed it off his shoulders. When the garment caught on his elbows, she fell back on her heels. It broke the mouth-to-mouth kiss and left her staring at the muscled swells of his pecs.

Surrendering to instinct, she brought her mouth to one firm curve and tasted that too.

He groaned, his fingers tightening on her flesh. Elena forced her mouth off him, forced herself to step back.

My work here is finished, she thought, trying to control the ragged seesaw of her breathing. '*Have a nice rest,*' she said, proud of her casual, so-calm tone.

**Mmm." He was silent a moment, and then he yawned. Hugely. **See you tomorrow."

As he turned from her, she heard herself call his name.

*'Can it wait?" he asked, still walking away. *'rm damn tired."

And she was so buzzed on the taste, the feel of him that it was as if she'd downed cups of pure caffeine. Yet Logan was walking away.

He'd yawned after that kiss!

Oh, she'd give him something he couldn't walk away from. Her pride injured, her sensual skills challenged, she pounced, determined to drag him back. Her hand only found fabric, though, his shirt puUing completely free of his body as he continued forward.

But then he halted, turned, looked at her. Thanks to the shadows, she had to imagine his eyebrow winging up, though she knew it was happening all the same. ''Sweetheart—"

"Don't 'sweetheart' me." She leaped forward and this time her hand found his. She hauled him to her door, pushed his back against it, then grabbed his hair with both hands to pull his head down to hers.

He laughed, the sound alert, awake, and quite, quite satisfied.

"Unh!" She grunted in frustration and released his head with enough force to send it thunking against the door.

"Ow." He rubbed at the back of his head. "What was that for?"

"You make me so mad," she said through clenched teeth. "That I'm going to...to..."

He grinned, even in the darkness she could see his teeth, even and white. "This sounds interesting. You're going to what?"

He was teasing her. She knew that. But there was a roar in her ears that went quite well with the rush in her blood. Well, fine, but he was going to pay for both of the sensations.

Grabbing his wrist, she moved him away from the door and unlocked it. Then she pushed her purse and bag over the threshold, towed Logan inside after them, and finally shut the door with her foot.