Sara's Child (19 page)
But Ben doesn’t blink, and that makes Catherine wary. “Not a problem. I’ll pick you up at nine; it’s already quarter to two and you just said you’re out on your feet,” he reminds her. “As you are the boss a bit of tardiness in a good cause shouldn’t be a problem.” He leans in and lays a kiss on her cheek before leaving. Not something he has ever done before, and it leaves Catherine wondering whether Ben isn’t taking too much hope from the fact that she and Logan are having a few problems.
She will just have to worry about that tomorrow she yawns again. Pulling her evening dress off over her head, she lets it puddle on the floor at the side of her bed then climbs gratefully in to it. A few seconds after her head touches the pillow Catherine falls into an exhausted sleep, too tired even to dream.
Ben drives none too slowly Catherine notes, pulling her seatbelt even tighter, over to Logan’s house. “We’re not in any hurry here,” she comments after Ben takes a bend at close to fifty mph, “arriving in one piece would be preferable to not arriving at all.”
Bloody hell!
Ben laughs heartily. “I’d never have guessed you’d be a nervous passenger. I’ve seen you drive, Catherine, and you don’t exactly drive like a granny yourself.”
“True,” she confesses easily, “but then my hands are on the wheel; I wouldn’t let me crash and burn!”
He laughs again, and Catherine eyes him speculatively. She can’t remember seeing Ben so…so…what, she asks herself. She just can’t put her finger on what is worrying her, except that, for a man who is in the company of the woman who has recently rejected him, he is taking it a bit too well.
“Ok, we’re here.” Ben pulls his sports car in to Logan’s drive. It is long and the grounds expansive and Catherine’s car is nowhere to be seen. “So, where did you stow it?” Ben asks, and again Catherine finds herself frowning at his chipper tone.
“It was right there.” She points to a spot closer to the house. “Now I suppose I’ll have to knock on his fucking door to ask him.” In a matter of seconds, she has gone from unease to in your face angry. Catherine stomps down the drive, Ben bouncing along behind her, and then raises a fist to bash on the large oak door.
“Now, now,” Ben cautions, “let’s do this with a little dignity. You don’t want him to think he’s got the better of you.”
Whether he meant to or not, Ben’s comment stirs Catherine up even more. She is about to give the door another hammering when it opens, her fist almost smashing into Logan’s face.
If only, Ben smiles wickedly, delighted to see Logan’s deepening frown when he looks over Catherine’s head at him. “Morning Logan, we’ve just come to collect Colson’s car, and on such a lovely day,” he adds brightly.
Before Logan can reply with anything more that a snarl, Catherine whirls on Ben. “Fuck it, Ben, I can speak for myself!” then spins back to Logan as he finally speaks.
“You’re car is in the left hand side of the double garage,” he informs her, having put it there himself the night before. He knew she would have to come to pick it up and had hoped to use that time to talk more reasonably to her. More than that, he’d hoped to get their relationship back on track. It had been lonely in his large bed, which had seemed enormous and so empty without her in it. “I’ll take you over,” he closes the heavy door behind him and makes to step off the flagstone set in front of it. However, Ben, who has moved imperceptivity forwards, is now standing in his way with his hand held out for the keys Logan is holding.
“I think we can manage.” Ben’s smile is still in place but markedly slips when Logan virtually walks through him as if he were not there.
“I don’t think so,” he states on a low growl, and Logan strides off with Ben doing multiple running steps to keep up.
Catherine stands, hands on hips, gaping after the two strutting bull headed men. It is the first time she has seen them side by side. Her head tilts to the right as she considers each in turn. Ben is no short-arse; at six feet, he is considered acceptably tall and his frame is more than acceptably filled out with good toned muscle. But next to Logan, who stands at six feet four and appears to tower over Ben, he looks almost wimpy. Logan has the build of a prop-forward and indeed, Catherine has watched him play in that capacity more than once now.
She can’t help the lustful sigh or the flutter in her belly or the heat that is gathering between her thighs; Ben doesn’t stand a chance. Focusing on Logan, Catherine watches his long legs eat up the distance to the garages. Even dressed in formal suit trousers and shirt she can clearly see his thigh muscles stretch and flex, his tight buttocks filling those trousers just so. She has a sudden vision, of her hands clenching over them as Logan pounds frantically into her, that almost causes Catherine’s knees to buckle.
“Get a grip, girl,” she scolds herself, then eyes Logan’s wicked arse and wishes longingly that she could.
By the time Catherine catches up with the two men, who are now obviously squaring off, the garage door is open and her old car, clearly visible, is still inside.
“If you two have finished pissing testosterone all over my car,” she glares from one to the other of the furious men, “I’ll just take my keys,” which she does, snatching the dangling bunch out of Logan’s hand, “and get out of here.”
Opening the driver’s door, Catherine makes to get inside, but Logan grasps her arm, none too gently, forcing her to look at him. “Will I see you tonight?” It was a question, but she hears the plea behind it and sees it in his eyes.
It must be mortifying for him to show such weakness in front of a man he considers a rival, she realises and nods before pulling away to get into her car. Firing it up, she puts it into reverse and leaves it to both men to jump out of the way.
“Damn it,” Ben exclaims, picking himself up off the floor.
Logan merely smirks with satisfaction and strides back to the house without a backward glance.
For almost the whole of that day, Ben and Catherine plan how they might find her mother’s murderer. “Ben, do you really think we can do this?”
Wouldn’t the police have found him by now if it were possible? But we did find Harriet Leavesden, and we made the connection. But what now?
Rounding the desk to put an ostensibly comforting arm across her shoulders, Ben nods firmly. “Try not to worry,” he gives her shoulders a squeeze. “I’m going to put some time in on this tonight. We’ll get the bastard,” he declares adamantly, and enjoys the grateful smile she gives him.
“Thanks Ben, I should have known you’d never let me down,” then grimaces when he drops a kiss on her cheek and says, “Never!”
Driving over to Logan’s house gives Catherine time to think. She had been angry with him because he hadn’t believed her, yet she knows he supports her whole-heartedly. And he loves her; she concedes melting into her seat.
After parking her car on his drive, Catherine is pleased to see Logan waiting for her. The open door casts a warm glow over him and her heart skips a couple of beats.
Jesus, I’ve missed him so much and it’s only been one night and one day. But he’s mine, damn it, and I’m his – that’s just the way it is!
There are no recriminating words between them. Just a look is all it takes and the hunger that burns in one calls to the other.
Logan sweeps Catherine up in his arms, carries her up the wide staircase to his bedroom and kisses her so thoroughly that all sanity is lost.
There is only Logan now, and her greedy need for him. There is no fumbling over buttons or clasps, their hands move with surety and with purpose to reveal quickly what they crave.
Gloriously naked, muscles rippling with need, Logan stands diamond hard before her. Catherine drops to her knees, pleasuring Logan until he cries out with the effort of holding himself back, then finds herself lying flat across his bed with those incredibly molten brown eyes devouring every trembling inch of her. “Mine!” he roars in a primal declaration that should have irked. But Catherine reaches up to touch his heart. “Mine!” She echoes, just as possessively.
Then it is Catherine’s turn to cry out. The heat between her thighs is now burning out of control. Her head thrashes side to side, her fingers clutching at the sheets, as his mouth finds her centre and plunders it mercilessly.
“Please…” she gasps “…I need you inside me.” But his deft fingers replace his tongue and drive her over the first cliff of release.
“You’ll never leave my bed again!” It is a demand, and one she willing gives in to.
“Never,” she manages to get out. Then his lips crush hers with a depth of passion that effectively seals their pact.
Then he is plunging inside her, ripping screams from her lips that she hears only as dim sounds that someone else is making. She meets his rhythm, beat for lustful beat until, wet with the enormous effort of their passion, they both erupt as one. Home. Safe. Loved.
It is a long time later until either of them moves. Thankfully, Logan has slumped his considerable weight at the side of her, Catherine realises as she traces her fingers across his rising and falling chest, thinking him asleep.
“If you keep doing that we are going to go for a second round.” His voice might be lazy, but she can see he is making no idle threat.
She draws her hand down over the bulging sheet and snickers playfully. “I’m up for it, and I can see you certainly are.”
Logan hesitates, looking at her for a long contemplative moment. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” he asks, his hand stroking her silky hair that is now long enough for him to run his fingers through.
“Don’t say that.” Her fingers stop their teasing dance, “Let’s just take what we have while we have it, and hold no regrets when it’s gone.”
Logan props his weight on one elbow to look down on her. She doesn’t look upset, has just stated what she sees as the facts. They are happy enough now but she doesn’t see it lasting – is he being a complete idiot to think that it can? “I love you, Catherine. That isn’t just a phrase I use to please you, it’s how I feel.”
Realising that she has inadvertently hurt him, Catherine tries to explain. “I just meant that you love me now, but who knows how you’ll feel in a year or maybe five years time?” He is frowning and she can see that she isn’t making things any better. “What if you meet someone who’s everything I’m not? Someone who knows all about that etiquette stuff who doesn’t get mad rather than get hurt.” Turning her back to Logan, she pulls the sheet tight around her. “Maybe you love Catherine, but I’ve been Colson for a long time now – I don’t think I know how to change.”
I can’t be what you want. I only wish I could.
Logan is dumbfounded. How can she think he would even look at another woman? Putting a gentle hand on her shoulder he tries to roll her back towards him, but Catherine holds herself firm. “I don’t know what I’ve ever done or said that could make you think I would, or could, give any other woman what I’ve already given to you, but you are so wrong.” Logan tries to roll her back towards him again and this time she complies. “I love you more than life, more than I can possibly tell you.” His hands move to cup her face, his thumb gently caressing her cheek. “My soul is bound to yours now, I honestly believe that, and I couldn’t be happier about it.”
Turning fully into his arms, Catherine winds her arms about his neck and holds on for dear life. “I love you so much it hurts, and it scares me,” she admits. “If anyone can drive love away it’s me, and then where will I be?”
Hurt and alone. Again. Like always.
Logan manages a small laugh and tightens his arms around her. “I’m going to enjoy proving to you just how much I love you,” he smiles into her hair. “Not that I’ll let you have everything your own way,” he warns with a chuckle, “that would make life boring, and you are never that, my darling Catherine.”
Next morning, Catherine is up early and in the shower. She is mulling over the last couple of days, the voice at Arthur’s party and Logan’s declaration of eternal love. She smiles at the thought of an eternity with Logan, “What a man,” she tells the empty room, “and Christ, what a body.” Catherine laughs as ‘the body’ walks in to the wet-room.
“Well you’re in a chipper mood,” he smiles broadly, as he walks towards Catherine. “Mind if I join you?” He laughs as Catherine crooks a finger at him. “I’ll take that as a no.”
Logan moves to get some shower gel, but Catherine has beaten him to it. “I already had my wash, this is for you,” and she rubs the gel between her hands then begins the task of washing Logan. They are standing face to face and her hands are moving over his broad chest and shoulders in firm circular motions. “Just look at all these lovely muscles,” she moves her hands over his biceps and give them a squeeze, “hard as rock.” Her hands become busy again, working their way over his abdomen. “And just look at this six pack,” Logan lets out a moan as her hands skirt lower but completely ignore his enormous erection. Putting more gel on her hands, Catherine moves them over his sculptured thighs then moves around him to stroke them lovingly over his taught buttocks. Remembering her thoughts of biting his peachy arse when he’d been striding away with Ben at his heels, Catherine decides to act on it and nips him on both cheeks.
Logan leans his hands against the wet-room wall and lets out a huge groan when her hands move under him to cup his balls. “Catherine…” He is struggling to maintain control as she continues her exploration of every part of his body but the one that craves her attention.
