Satin Sheets and Strawberries (6 page)

The paintbrush in Kelli’s hand started to tremble as she read the desire in his eyes. His soft brown eyes were demanding a response, some mutual understanding of the emotion being transmitted between them. His hands were gentle as he reached out and removed the heavy water nymph from her lap and placed it on the worktable. "I’m going to kiss you."

"Why?" she asked breathily. "You don’t even like me."

"Liking you has nothing to do with it."

"You thought I belonged in some home for demented fairies."

He smiled sympathetically. "I still do."

"And I should allow you to kiss me after that comment?"

His finger reached out and tenderly outlined her pouting lower lip. "I don’t remember asking your permission."

"Why, you . . ." Kelli’s voice trailed off as the lantern suddenly went out. In the faint glow of the kerosene heater she stared up at the hanging light. "I guess a draft blew it out," she whispered.

Logan’s hand slid behind Kelli’s head and brought her closer. "Probably."

Kelli’s arms wound around his neck as he moved closer. When his lips were a mere inch away she mumbled, "I didn’t notice any draft."

"Neither did I," Logan said against her waiting lips.

A sigh escaped Kelli’s throat as his lips settled firmly against hers. She willingly followed his hands as they tenderly pulled her out of the chair and into his arms.

Logan’s heart understood the sweet sigh she purred and went into double time. She had to be feeling the same magic, the same oneness he was.

The feel of Logan’s tongue tenderly tracing her lower lip caused heat to spiral from her stomach out to her fingertips and toes. With a low moan she pressed her lips closer against his. She ran her fingers through the silky texture of his hair, as his hard chest cushioned her breasts. His large gentle hands caressed her back and brought her hips against his growing arousal.

The feel of his hardening body brought her out of the sensual spell. What was she doing? How could she be kissing him? He was the enemy, the one man who could bring her world down. Slowly lowering her hands, she placed them against his chest and pushed gently.

Logan groaned as Kelli broke the kiss and placed a few desperately needed inches between them. He now knew what Kelli SantaFe tasted like, the nectar of the gods, sweet, delicious, addictive. She’d responded passionately to his kiss. Would she respond to his every touch like that? he wondered. What would it be like to make love to her? Kelli stared up into the darkness and wished she could see his features. Was he as affected by one kiss as she was? With a determined shake of her head, she realized it didn’t matter how the kiss affected him, it wasn’t going to be repeated. With more such kisses she knew she could lose much more than Ruth and Henry, she could lose her heart. Her voice shook as she took a step backward. "That shouldn’t have happened."

Silently, he agreed with her, but the words refused to be vocalized. How do you tell the woman you want to make love with that you shouldn’t be kissing her? His breathing was starting to become more normal as he reached for the hanging lantern. "I’ll relight this while you clean up. I promised Ruth we would be in for dinner soon."

"But I still have a lot of painting to do."

The lantern caught on the first try. As he adjusted the flame he said, "You can do it after dinner."

"This is my house, my business, and my painting. I will eat dinner when I’m good and ready."

Logan smiled at the resentment in her voice. So Miss Polite had a temper after all. He was glad. "Aunt Ruth went to a lot of trouble to fix dinner for you, the least you can do is eat it."

She picked up assorted brushes and dropped them into an old Flintstone jelly glass filled with soapy water. She pulled the two top sweatshirts over her head and dropped them over the chair. Yanking off the gloves, she called to Tinkerbell. "Come on, girl. Din-din time. I’ve suddenly developed a raging appetite."

Logan stood in the middle of the shed and chuckled as the door slammed behind her and the dog. So the Fairy Queen had a temper—one to match the passion he’d tasted. With a wistful sigh for things that could never be, he turned the lantern and heater down and slowly followed Kelli back to the house.

He found Ruth and Henry quietly playing a game of checkers in the living room while Kelli fed logs into the wood stove. Her face was flushed with heat as she turned from the stove and looked at him. "I’ll go warm up our dinner."

"Thanks. I’ll go get another pile of wood for later." With a smile he left the room and headed back outside.

Ruth and Henry smiled at each other as Kelli turned toward the kitchen. Without saying a word they picked up the checkers and board and headed for their coats. As they passed through the kitchen, Ruth said, "We’re heading home now. There’s some rice pudding in the refrigerator for dessert."

Kelli slid two full plates into the warm oven. "Thanks for the dinner Ruth. I’m sorry I didn’t come in before."

"Nonsense, child. You can eat anytime you want."

She smiled at the older couple. "Henry, I saw all those trees you marked today. That should keep Josh busy tomorrow afternoon. Thanks."

"Josh is going to have a hard time taking that chain saw away from Logan. He was cutting down trees and limbs like a lumberjack today, and seemed to be enjoying himself."

"I’m sure that he’ll be bored by it soon. They probably don’t have an abundance of trees in the Sudan."

Henry’s smile faded as he studied the young woman in front of him. "You could be right, but I’ve never known Logan to become bored with anything." He quietly pulled on his coat, reached for Ruth’s hand, and the two of them headed out the door. "Good night," they called.

Kelli placed silverware and drinks for two on the small kitchen table. Henry was right; Logan didn’t seem to be the kind of man who became bored easily. So how long would he stay here? There was nothing here for him except Ruth and Henry. When was he scheduled to go back to Sudan and the oil fields? Logan returned and dumped a pile of logs by the hearth in the living room. She carefully took the hot plates from the oven as he hung up his windbreaker and washed up.

He had barely sat down when Kelli asked, "When are you returning to Sudan?"

He swallowed a mouthful of mashed potatoes. "I’m not sure."

Kelli’s fingers trembled as she cut into her pork chop. "Why not?"

"I’ve got a lot of things to clear up here first."

"Meaning Ruth and Henry?"

Compassion shone in his eyes as he carefully set his fork down on his plate. "I’m sorry, Kelli, but when I leave here they will be going with me. It’s the right thing for all of us."

With a sudden movement she stood up and faced her rival. "Possession is nine tenths of the law, and since they live here, they’re mine. You can’t have them."

In frustrated silence Logan watched as Kelli grabbed her coat and slammed out the door. What could he possibly say that would make her understand? They were his family, and he needed them too.

After Kelli had stormed out, Logan spent a quiet evening alone with only troubled thoughts for company. He knew she was, in a sense, correct. What right did he have to claim his aunt and uncle, when he was never around when they needed him? How could he possibly take care of them when he was on the other side of the world? He could hire someone to stay with them, but they didn’t need a babysitter. They needed someone to be there when things became too much for them. They needed someone like Kelli.

He lay awake staring at the ceiling mentally listing his options. He could return to Sudan and leave his aunt and uncle living peacefully with Kelli. But that would be shirking his responsibilities. How could he allow a complete stranger to carry his load? Especially a stranger that was so petite, gorgeous, kissable, and so desirable. Even if she were slightly unhinged. With a groan he remembered how potent she had tasted, one hundred-fifty proof. The taste of her went straight to his head. He muttered a colorful curse, kicked the extra cover off his bed, and silently commanded all fairies to leave his head.

His second option was to move them into another house and pay someone to keep an eye on them. He grimaced in disgust. Not only would that be disrespectful, but downright insulting. After the years of unselfish love they had given him, how could he contemplate being so callous?

The third, and most intriguing alternative, was not to return to Sudan. There was plenty of work for a geologist in the United States. He could get a job, buy a house, and live with Ruth and Henry, or at least have them nearby. When sleep finally claimed him, visions of Texan oil fields and oil shale deposits in Colorado filled his mind.

#

Kelli stumbled into the kitchen by eight the next morning. But Logan was already gone. Ruth said he had to run into town, so she had given him the shopping list. With a painful smile, Kelli thanked her for her thoughtfulness and prayed Logan wasn’t a big spender. The coffers at Fairyland were running alarmingly low, and it was still weeks before they opened and started pulling in some money.

After a quick breakfast she headed out into the unusually warm March morning. She found Henry and a group of high school students at the outdoor theater discussing which split-log benches would need work. "Good morning, Henry. Morning, gang."

A chorus of "Hi, Kelli"’s filled the air.

"I know most of you have already met Henry, but for those who didn’t"—she grabbed hold of his wrist and pulled him into the circle of youths— "this is Henry Morrison. He’s in charge of all the grounds work. He’ll be the one handing out orders."

Kelli ignored Henry’s look of astonishment.

During the morning, with diplomacy and skill she passed out orders that seemed to come from Henry, conferred with him on four separate occasions, and generally started the ball rolling. By eleven-thirty she was tired, hungry, and immensely proud of the way Henry’s chest was puffed out and how his eyes sparkled whenever one of the kids called him Pop. She was headed home for lunch when she spotted Logan’s car parked out front. Quickly, she changed directions and headed toward the pond and the new mamma. She silently lectured herself for being a coward. After staying up half the night to paint fairies, and trying to think of a solution concerning Henry and Ruth, she was still confused. One thing was resolved; she was determined to keep her distance from Logan. Not only was he a threat to her newly found family, he was hell on her hormones. Every time she closed her eyes she relived the kiss they had shared. Never before had a kiss left such an emotional impression. She had shared some kisses with men in the past, but they had been tame, undemanding, and safe. With Logan she felt anything but safe. There was something primitive in his kiss. Something that called to a special part of her and demanded a response. One that she wasn’t sure she was ready to give. Especially to a man who was only here temporarily, a known enemy, and one who freely admitted he thought she was unbalanced.

When she spotted Angus gracefully gliding across the pond, a gentle smile touched her lips. She began to hum a lullaby and slowly made her way to Caer and her nest. By the time she reached the lean-to, Caer had left her eggs and was noisily greeting Kelli. With loving hands she praised the new mother, sat down, and softly sang another song.

Fifteen minutes later her entire rendition was completed and Caer was back to her eggs. As she carefully and slowly made her way to the other side of the pond, Kelli spotted a pair of mallard ducks who undoubtedly would be increasing their population later this spring.

With a tired sigh Kelli sat down on a dry bed of grass. The back of her neck ached and tension flowed from her cramped muscles. She turned her face toward the warm sun. It felt wonderful after a long winter. Without a thought to the crinkling grass and anything it might contain, Kelli locked her hands and behind her head and lay back. She closed her eyes and promised herself just five more minutes of peaceful solitude.

Half an hour later, Logan found her asleep in the grass. With a cautious glance at the swans swimming on the other side of the pond, he placed the wicker picnic basket down and carefully spread out an old blanket. As he unzipped his jacket, he wondered what her reaction to his peace offering would be. He had spent the morning in town picking up various magazines and journals on geology. They didn’t hold all the answers he needed, but they contained names and addresses of people who did. Tonight when Kelli disappeared into her workshop, he would start writing letters.

He had spent over an hour in the grocery store piling all his favorite foods into the cart. An eighteen-pound turkey caused his mouth to water for Ruth’s stuffing. Thick porterhouse steaks, fresh broccoli, and the ingredients for a chocolate cake were added to the overflowing cart. He had picked up double of everything on Ruth’s order and jammed the stuffed bags into the trunk of his rental car. When he reached home his trunk was overflowing.

When he saw the expression on Ruth’s face as she looked at her two new huge houseplants he knew the trip was a success. For as long as he could remember, her home had been crammed with plants. But there wasn’t one single plant in their cottage. Why? When he hinted for an explanation, she skillfully skirted the issue.

As Ruth alternated between tisking over the amount of food he’d bought, and planning the next week’s meals, Logan had packed a wicker basket full of food. When Ruth learned he planned to share the picnic with Kelli, she beamed and fetched an old plaid blanket she had seen in the hall closet. Armed with a basketful of good intentions, he went to find Kelli. As he stepped outside into the sunshine he knew instinctively where she was. With the swans at the pond. Now, he silently placed the basket in the middle of the blanket and stared at the sleeping woman. Streaks of mud coated her boots and worn jeans hugged her legs. A large baggy red sweater covered her from her neck to the tops of her thighs. Her small firm breasts were amplified by her hands being laced behind her head. Arousal raced through Logan’s body. He forced his gaze higher. Her lips were softly parted as if waiting for a lover’s kiss, and her golden lashes lay against her pink cheeks. A Sleeping Beauty struck by a fairy’s spell.