Читать книгу Run the Risk - Lori Foster - Страница 10
ОглавлениеCHAPTER TWO
AFTER BREAKING SPEED RECORDS for a shower and shave, Logan punched in the number, then dried off one-handed while using his shoulder to hold his cell phone to his ear.
The second he got an answer, he said, “She took the bait.”
His partner, Reese, bit back a curse. “What does that mean, exactly? What did you do to her?”
Around a rough laugh, Logan said, “I didn’t do anything to her.” Ignoring the fact that he hoped to do a lot of things to her, he tossed aside the towel. “She agreed to share dinner with me, that’s all.” For now. But if things went right…
“I wish you’d rethink this, Logan.”
Why did Reese have to act as if he planned to molest her? “Fuck that. If I don’t get to the bottom of this, then who will?” No one else was willing to track down the truth. No one else dared go up against that scum, Morton Andrews.
No one else cared what had happened two years ago.
“Logan—”
Skin still damp, Logan skipped his boxers and pulled on another pair of soft, well-worn jean shorts. Long ago he’d decided to eschew the trappings of inherited wealth and go for comfort instead. As a detective, he had to wear suits, a tie, the whole shebang. He’d gotten used to it, and didn’t even think about it anymore.
But in his leisure time, he wore whatever felt best.
This new gig masquerading as a middle class construction worker fit him just fine. More often than not, a pair of shorts was all he needed. “I’m too close to pull back now, so save the lecture.” He dragged up the zipper with care.
Resigned, Reese got down to business. “Have you seen her brother?”
“No.” Not even a glimpse. “But he’s around, I’m sure of it.”
“If it turns out you’re right, the walls could start crumbling down. But if you’re wrong…”
He wasn’t wrong. No way. He trusted his instincts and his gut; both told him he was on to something here. He and Jack Carmin had gone through school together, college together, but while Logan had set his sights on becoming a detective, Jack had veered off into a different type of public work: politics. He’d died at the hands of a madman. Senseless murder—all for greed and corruption.
“He was my best friend, Reese.”
Morton Andrews would pay, even if it took him a lifetime.
“I know.” Tiredly, Reese said, “Keep me posted, okay? Don’t push too hard, and don’t do anything stupid or dangerous.”
That made Logan laugh, but not with any real humor. “Don’t act like you? Is that what you’re saying?” Known for championing the underdog, Reese resembled Jack in many ways. In the face of injustice, he often reacted before thinking, but usually, at least in Logan’s opinion, he was dead-on. Logan trusted him with his life, and that was saying something. He trusted only a select few.
Now with a smile in his tone, Reese said, “Exactly.”
“I’ll check in tomorrow.”
“Not tonight?”
With any luck, he’d be busy till late. “Let’s keep the calls to a minimum, just in case.”
Reese hesitated. “Forget the task force and your assignment—if you need backup, don’t trust anyone else, understand? Get hold of me, and only me.”
“That’s a given.” Jack’s murder had been all the incentive Logan needed to accept the position as head of a special task force. To clean up a lot of the rampant corruption in Warfield, Ohio, his lieutenant had given him carte blanche.
But because some of that corruption had infiltrated the force, Logan had immediately brought Reese on board.
“I’ve lined up a few unies if we need them. Kids I know we can count on.”
By “kids,” Reese meant young uniformed cops, still bright-eyed with the need to see justice served. “You didn’t tell them anything yet?”
“Nope. Just checked out their backgrounds, family histories and their records. If you find Rowdy, they can make the actual arrest to keep it clean.”
“Thanks.” To really make a difference, Logan needed people he could count on, and that meant Reese had to do a lot of setup.
But he also needed an eyewitness to a two-year-old murder.
And that meant he needed Pepper’s brother, Rowdy Yates.
Through tons of research and a little luck, he’d found Pepper. At first he hadn’t been certain it was her; Rowdy had done an amazing job of covering their tracks. But now that he’d seen her up close, talked with her, he was sure he had the right woman.
Through her, he’d eventually get Rowdy.
And with Rowdy, he’d get that scumbag club owner, Morton Andrews, the man he knew was responsible for many deaths, including Jack’s.
Hell, he wasn’t the only one who knew it. Plenty of people made the link. But Morton owned enough people, bought enough alibis that, for all intents and purposes, he remained untouchable.
With Rowdy’s eyewitness account, he’d finally be able to put Morton away.
With that end goal in mind, Logan said, “I gotta go. The lady is waiting.”
Dropping his cell phone into his pocket, along with his keys and a wallet holding false ID, a rubber and a few bills, Logan detoured into the kitchen.
Using his real first name made the undercover work easier. It was enough to remember that Pepper Yates was Sue Meeks without trying to carry his own alias. It was all too easy to fuck up when you tried to change too much. That’s why construction work was part of his undercover persona.
Sure, he and his brother Dash had inherited a shit ton of money from their family. But neither of them flaunted the money, and neither of them felt content being idle or, God forbid, sitting in boardrooms. They invested wisely, donated generously and got on with their lives.
As owner of a construction company, Dash could employ Logan when necessary, giving him the background he needed in case Rowdy got on to him and did any checking.
It was a stroke of luck that he’d found Pepper in a different county. Anyone who knew him might unwittingly blow his cover, but the different locale made a chance encounter with cops in the field less likely.
Logan grabbed his packaged steak, a potato and a six-pack of beer, minus one.
He locked the door behind him and stepped over to tap on Pepper’s door. As if she’d been waiting for him, it opened almost before he’d dropped his hand.
Standing before him, shifting her feet nervously, she said, “Hi.”
She looked adorably unsure of herself, her gaze avoiding his, her teeth nibbling on her bottom lip.
Again flushed.
“Hi yourself.” Logan took his time looking her over, not that she’d changed a thing. She still wore the ugly canvas sneakers, long skirt and baggy pullover top. Her hair remained dragged back in that hideous ponytail.
But he saw the movement of her chest as she drank in deep, nervous breaths, and the way her hands trembled a little.
Emotion, awareness and his dick all swelled. He felt ruthless, and he felt territorial. “You want to let me in, Sue?”
She continued to look at him, all over him.
Logan lowered his voice more and said with certainty, “I’m coming in.”
“Oh.” Closing her eyes in embarrassment, she stepped aside. “Yes, of course.”
He hadn’t planned to rush things. He’d intended to be smooth, patient. But the moment just felt right, so as he moved past her, he bent and put a firm kiss to her soft mouth. “Thanks.”
The brief contact proved addictive—sparking awareness, firing his blood.
Over a simple kiss.
He made it all the way to her kitchen before he realized she still stood at her open door, staring after him, frozen in shock. She watched him set down the beer, the steak and potato.
She looked ready to flee the apartment.
Pretending he didn’t understand the reason, Logan asked low, “Everything okay?”
She treated him to another intent stare, consuming him with her innocent gaze. “Yes.” Letting out a long breath, she closed the door, faltered a second, then stepped forward. “Yes, everything is fine.” Head down, mouth pinched, she bustled past him. “I already started the grill. Another minute or two and we can put on the steaks.”
Logan caught her arm, his fingers wrapping around her. She was slim, her bones delicate.
Why hadn’t he noticed that before?
“You picked up the place.” She’d closed the door on her bedroom and bathroom, so he didn’t know about those spaces, but the cardboard pizza box, empty cans and papers were gone. “I hope you didn’t tidy up on my account.”
“Oh, no, not at all.” Sidling out of his reach, she plumped a throw pillow at the end of a love seat, putting the entire piece of furniture between them as a barrier. “That stuff was leftover from last night.”
Her efforts to distance him only made him feel more predatory. Alarm filled her gaze as he approached. She jerked around, turning her back on him, but then just…stood there, waffling, uncertain.
A defense mechanism? How badly had her damned brother mistreated her?
Savage, protective instincts sharpened. She was so damn sweet, so shy.
Having her would be sweet, too. Not that it mattered; his reasons for being here with her now, for using her, had little enough to do with her growing appeal.
An appeal he hadn’t noticed before getting close to her.
Using the back of one finger, Logan stroked the side of her neck and was rewarded with her shiver. Her incredible softness stirred him more and roughened his voice. “You ate pizza all alone last night?” The image pained him.
“I… Of course.” She swayed back into him. “I am alone.”
Amazed by how quickly she melted, he settled both hands on her shoulders. Again he noted her slimness. Not skinny, but most definitely slight in the way of females.
Would it really be this easy? Did she not possess a single iota of self-preservation? She wore her heart on her sleeve, her need for affection painstakingly obvious.
He wanted to pull her closer, wrap his arms around her, but he didn’t want to scare her off.
Using his thumbs to rub the backs of her upper arms, he said, “You could have invited me over.”
“I…” She shook her head. “No. I couldn’t.”
Because her brother wouldn’t allow it? Bastard.
Logan leaned closer, his breath on her nape, his whisper near her ear. “Anytime, Sue. You have my number.” His lips just touched her lobe. “Or just knock at my door.”
Breathing hard, she shifted—then lurched out of his reach. “No, I’m sorry,” she said in a rush, “but I won’t ever do that.” She all but raced out to the patio. With her out of the room, Logan looked around.
Her furniture, ragtag and mismatched, had probably come with the apartment, same as his. As an acting manager for the four-unit building, did she get to live here rent-free? Where did she get money for food? For clothes? Lack of funds likely accounted for her secondhand clothing. She didn’t have a car—because she couldn’t afford one?
It disturbed Logan, how isolated and alone she was. He always empathized with those less fortunate; never in his life had he wanted for a single thing—except justice. But with this woman, it went beyond a sense of social responsibility to the needy.
It went beyond anything familiar.
Where the hell was her brother? Why did Rowdy leave her so unguarded?
From what he’d uncovered, he hadn’t considered Rowdy Yates a “bad” man, just a man of poor choices and, in the case of his employment with Morton Andrews, worse acquaintances. Now, knowing Pepper? Rowdy had to be the lowest type of villain. How else could you explain her circumstances?
Other than a work history that included everything from dishwasher to deliveryman, carpenter to bouncer, there’d been little on Rowdy, and even less on Pepper.
Logan knew her brother worked, he drifted, he teetered on the edge of trouble—and he dragged Pepper along for the ride.
Logan hadn’t been able to find anything on their educations, parents or other relatives.
But Rowdy had worked at Checkers—which was the wrong club at the wrong time. While employed there he’d gotten embroiled in corruption. His testimony was needed to bring down Andrews, but for two years now, he’d dodged involvement. The last anyone had heard from Rowdy was right before a reporter had his throat cut.
After that, nada.
Until now.
Now, Logan had Rowdy’s kid sister, and much as it went against the grain, he would use her to get what he wanted.
Justice.
Revenge.
Peace of mind.
Unwavering, Logan picked up his food, snagged two beers, and went out to the patio to join her.
* * *
PEPPER LAY IN HER BED, wide-awake, miserably hot, and dissatisfied.
The fan in her window stirred the humid air, pushing it around the room and over her mostly bare body.
A cold shower hadn’t helped, not after four long hours of Logan Stark’s personal brand of seduction.
God, she felt singed. The intimate way he’d looked at her, the suggestive way he talked.
Even the way he ate his steak somehow affected her to the point that she’d barely touched her own, when she’d been anticipating the dinner.
She had planned to ask Logan some personal questions, but he’d kept her on the defensive with small touches and warm smiles. It had taken all her wits to keep from falling under his spell.
But she wanted to. Badly.
Actually, she wanted to be under him.
Impossible.
Rolling to her back, she stared at the shadowed ceiling and wondered if he was asleep. After that spontaneous kiss he’d given her before walking into her apartment, she’d been on guard. When she’d finally gotten him to the door, ready to say goodbye, she’d stuck out her hand.
A handshake she could handle. It was civilized. Socially acceptable.
But he’d done her in even then, lifting her hand, pressing his firm mouth to her palm. Inundated with the sensations all over again, she curled her fingers and groaned.
When her phone beeped, she jumped, then quickly sat up. No one had her number—except Rowdy.
She turned on a light, pressed a button on the phone and put it to her ear. “Hey.”
“Did I wake you?”
“No.” They both kept strange hours, but even if they didn’t, Rowdy would always call when others least expected it. Because it was always a looming threat, she asked, “Is anything wrong?”
“You had company.”
She gulped. How did he find that out so quickly? “A neighbor.”
“A man.”
Since Rowdy actually owned the apartment building, buying it outright under yet another alias, she could understand his consternation. “I don’t know too much about him—”
“But you had him over anyway?”
She understood his incredulity. “It’s not like that. His name is Logan Stark and for some reason…” Well, she couldn’t just tell her brother that Logan hit on her. That’d not only infuriate him, it’d also make him as suspicious as she was. “He wanted to share dinner, that’s all.”
Cold silence.
“C’mon, Rowdy,” she cajoled. “I’m careful, you know that.”
“You’re playing with fire.”
Maybe. “It’s not a big deal. Dinner, that’s all.”
“Then tell me why.”
She shrugged to herself. “I wondered the same thing. It’s not like I’d be appealing to him.”
He cursed low. “I didn’t mean that.”
“You did,” she corrected. “But it’s okay. A low profile is what’s most important, right?”
“I don’t like it.”
“There’s not much you do like these days.” She sighed, feeling for her brother, worried about him, and so tired of all the subterfuge. “Please, believe me, Rowdy. I won’t take any risks.”
“Maybe not on purpose, but that was a risk you took last night, so I’m going to check into him.”
Hmm… “Maybe you could find out where he works.”
“Ask him,” Rowdy said. “We’ll see if what he says to you meshes with what I find.”
“All right.” If the opportunity presented itself, she could try a little prying.
“Give me a week or two to find out what I can about him. Until then, watch your ass.”
Of course she would. Not like anyone else was watching it. Well, except her brother—and she could do with a little less vigilance from him, especially now that Logan was in the picture. “Love you, Rowdy.”
His voice softened. “Love you, too, kid.” And then, right before he hung up, he admonished, “Behave.”
Pepper put the phone back on her nightstand. It would be so nice to visit with Rowdy, to spend an entire day with him. But he wouldn’t allow it.
She understood why, but that didn’t stop her from missing him, more and more each day.
It saddened her, but as she tried to get to sleep, it was Logan she thought of, not her brother.
And that disturbed her most of all.
* * *
ON THE THIRD FLOOR of his exclusive, all-service club, Morton Andrews held court. Idiots surrounded him, but they were his idiots, loyal to him, afraid of his influence, so he tolerated them.
He eyed the cop who’d just entered. No, he wouldn’t offer a seat. He’d show no courtesy at all.
Cops had to remember their place—as hired help. “Is it true that Rowdy Yates has turned up?”
Surprise showed, but then was quickly covered. “Where did you hear that?”
Interesting. So maybe there was some truth to it. “You forget my many tentacles? I have ears everywhere. You know that.”
A nod of acknowledgment. “Yes, I know that.”
Morton accepted he had few virtues, and patience definitely wasn’t one of them. “Well?”
“There’s nothing concrete on Rowdy.”
It irked him sometimes, that cool confidence, the near disdain. Others cowered around him. Others understood the threat. But not this one. “You’ll let me know when there is?”
“Of course.”
Truth, or false assurances? Didn’t matter. In his own way, and in his own time, Morton knew he’d get to the bottom of it. For now, it amused him to let the illusion of trust exist. “All right, then.” And just to be a prick, he said, “You can go now.”
Taking the dismissal with no show of insult, the cop turned and left.
Morton shook his head. To his way of thinking, the only good cop was dirty—or dead. He’d yet to decide the fate of this one. But soon…
* * *
FOR THREE DAYS, Logan kept his distance. It wasn’t easy, but he wanted Pepper to think about him, to anticipate seeing him. Anticipation could break down her barriers, and that’s what he needed.
After spending the day working for his brother Dash, he’d expended a lot of tension. Physical labor always did that for him. Sunshine, sweat, using his hands, working his shoulders and thighs…he enjoyed it.
Likely Dash did as well, which would explain why he’d not only bought the company, but worked alongside the laborers on a regular basis.
There’d been a lot of concrete work throughout the afternoon. Sweat flattened his hair to his head and kept his T-shirt glued to his back. Everywhere he stepped, his dusty boots left footprints. Too much sun made his face feel tight.
And still he loved it.
Dash had the right idea. Make his own way doing good, honest labor, and build a great reputation at the same time.
It didn’t hurt that the construction company gave Logan great cover. No one knew he and Dash were related, so no one paid him any attention. On the construction site, he was just one more grunt, there to help with the physical workload.
Just as he reached his door, Pepper’s opened.
Satisfaction burned in his gut.
He glanced up, saw her standing there uncertainly, and smiled. “Hey, Sue.” He continued to unlock his door, pushed it open. “What’s up?”
“I, ah…”
He glanced at her again, a brow raised.
“I haven’t seen you for a few days.”
“Been working.” He leaned in the door to drop a thermos and hard hat. “That’s how construction is. You don’t work for a month, then you’re nonstop busy for a while.”
“Construction?” She eased farther into the hallway.
Seeing this as a prime opportunity, Logan rubbed the back of his neck tiredly. “Yeah.” He gestured. “You want to come in? I need to shower and grab some dinner, but then we can visit.”
“Oh.” Shaking her head, she retreated a step. “No, I—”
Keeping his gaze locked on hers, he reached for her, caught her hand, and pulled her forward into the hall and then into his apartment. “I only need a few minutes. What’d you have planned for dinner? I’m starving.”
Not the most subtle hint, but maybe she’d be female enough to pick up on it and take pity on him.
“I was going to order a pizza.” She looked around his apartment with interest but jumped when he closed the door. Apprehension welled up. “I should go.”
“I’d rather you stay.” He dropped down to his couch but didn’t lean back into the cushions, not with his shirt damp through and through. He began unlacing his work boots. “I’d put off the shower, but I’m a sweaty mess. It’s bad enough that it’s in the nineties, but add in the humidity, and it was miserable today.”
“Yes.”
At that faint agreement, he looked at her, found her staring at his shoulders, and smiled. “I probably smell like a locker room.”
Her face again warmed, and she breathed, “No.”
Logan reveled in her response. Had he reduced her to one word replies? Just to keep her tongue-tied, he stood and pulled off his shirt.
Her jaw loosened, and she drew in a shuddering breath.
Damn, could a woman be more enticing? More in need of a long hard ride? She damn near fainted when he reached past her to set his boots on the floor inside the door.
Close to her, crowding her a little, he emptied his pockets on the table, setting out his wallet, cell phone and some change. “Stay put, okay? I’ll be right back.”
She stared at his throat.
Remember what you’re doing. Giving her a verbal nudge, Logan whispered, “Sue?”
Her gaze jumped up to his.
“Tell me you’ll be here when I get out of the shower.”
“Yes.” She nodded slowly. “I’ll be here.”
He couldn’t resist touching her, but because he was a mess, he used only his baby finger to stroke her warm, downy cheek. Then, before he lost it, he said, “Make yourself at home,” and turned to head into the bathroom.
He hoped she would use the time alone to snoop a little; it was why he’d left his wallet and second cell phone sitting right there. Anything she found would only reinforce his cover.
Scrubbing head to toe, he removed the grime even as the cool water helped to temper his explosive lust.
Not that he should have been exploding with lust. It made no sense. This was a job, just like any other. His association with her was a means to an end, and Pepper Yates, aka Sue Meeks, was as far from a femme fatale as a woman could get.
But knowing she waited in the other room left him half hard, his guts knotted and his balls tight.
Shit.
In a hurry to get back to her, he turned off the shower and dried. Now that he’d gotten her into his place, he didn’t want her to turn tail and run before he could take advantage of the situation and advance his goal.
But as he walked back in, snapping his jeans along the way, he found her still at the door, his belongings untouched, her expression a little lost. It appeared she hadn’t moved an inch. Hell, it almost looked as if she held her breath.
New sensations tensed his muscles. He didn’t know for sure what he felt, but he felt it in spades, unsettling and blistering hot.
Without saying a word, their gazes locked, he approached her. For several seconds they stood there, staring at each other while the charge between them arced and crackled, growing stronger with each beat of his heart.
Softly, he said, “You look ready to bolt.”
She rolled in her lips and shook her head.
Because he couldn’t not touch her, Logan put a hand to the top of her head. Her hair was silky soft, warm. He stroked back to her nape, and then down the length of that long ponytail, stopping with his hand open on the small of her back. “Everything okay?”
“Yes.” Then, as he nudged her closer, she blurted, “I hadn’t heard from you…”
His strategy had obviously worked—so then why did he feel like such a prick? “After working on the construction site, I came home each day pretty beat.”
“I didn’t mean… You don’t owe me anything.”
Her vulnerability chewed on his conscience. “No?”
Without his urging, she drew closer, her attention on his mouth. “I just… You had said…so I thought…” She clamped her mouth closed and squeezed her eyes shut. “Never mind.”
“I gave you my number,” he reminded her.
Her tone now more strident, she shot right back, “I told you I wouldn’t call.”
So she had.
He probably should’ve kissed her already to avoid this little conflict.
Better late than never.
But he didn’t take her mouth. Instead, he lowered his head and brushed a kiss over her heated cheek, down to her firm jaw, and then to the side of her silken neck.
She locked her hands behind her, confounding him.
“You smell good, Sue.” He nuzzled her ear, filling his lungs with her scent. “Like sunshine.”
“I was outside.” Breathless, she added, “The building has termites.”
“Yeah?” He didn’t give a damn. His hand on her back contracted; she felt supple, trim, but so soft.
“I had to meet with the exterminator.” She tipped her head to make it easier for him to get to her throat. “We were outside for over an hour.”
This dump had an exterminator? Okay, so he’d never seen any bugs, it still surprised him. “Thanks for taking care of that.”
“I probably need a shower, too.”
“No.” He opened his mouth on her throat, moved his tongue over her, tasting her skin, licking her, then whispering in her ear, “But you could have showered with me if you’d—”
She left his arms so quickly, it took him a second to figure out what had happened.
She had that deer caught in the headlights look about her.
Time to regroup.
Pretending he hadn’t panicked her, Logan said, “You mentioned ordering pizza.” He took a step back, giving her some space so she could breathe easier. “How about I pay, and we can eat here?”
Indecision kept her on the edge of retreat. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“You’d be doing me a favor.” When she hesitated, he handed her his phone. “Go ahead and order it. I’ll get us something to drink in the meantime.”
He walked away, hoping she’d settle down and stay with him—but prepared to go after her if she didn’t.
Then he heard her soft voice ordering the pizza, loaded, just as he liked it.
He got out glasses. “You want a beer or a Coke?”
She looked at his beer with longing, but said, “A Coke, please.”
Another mystery. If she wanted a beer, why not say so? Did she think it unladylike—or did she worry that alcohol, even a simple beer, would lower her resistance, maybe allow her to divulge secrets better kept concealed?
Logan disliked her brother more by the minute. “Over ice?”
She nodded.
“How long for the pizza? I’m starved.”
“Fifteen minutes or so.” She inched closer. “They’re just around the corner.”
“Good to know.”
“You can also get Thai and Chinese pretty quickly. And hoagies or chili only takes half an hour.”
“You do a lot of fast food, too, huh?”
“During the summer I usually grill dinner. You know that. But at night, after it gets quiet, sometimes I…” She shrugged.
“You can’t sleep?”
“I enjoy the peace,” she corrected. “I don’t have a set schedule, so when I want to watch an old movie, or catch up on the news, I do. I think I’m a natural night owl.”
“So you curl up on the couch with some fast food?” It was a cute picture. What type of pajamas did she wear? A granny gown? T-shirt and panties? Somehow he couldn’t picture her in lingerie. “Maybe you can share the numbers of the local restaurants with me.”
“All right.” Though she hung back in the kitchen doorway, she asked, “Can I do anything?”
Oh, hell yeah. She could do all sorts of things. He gave her a smile but said, “Don’t worry about it. We’ll just grab some plates and napkins when it gets here.” He handed her drink to her. “Want to watch TV now, or sit on the balcony?”
She looked toward his balcony but again hesitated, so he took the decision away from her.
“Let’s see what’s on TV.” Taking her hand, he led her to the sofa. He sat down and pulled her down beside him, probably closer than she liked, but not as close as he wanted.
She sat stiff, silent and wary. After setting her drink on the coffee table, she clasped her hands together in her lap, pressed her knees and ankles together, kept her back military straight.
All because he sat beside her? “Relax.”
“I am relaxed,” she said too fast.
After a long look, he grinned at her and shook his head. “I think I’ll have to teach you how to loosen up.”
Her eyes flared, especially when he put aside his beer and reached for her shoulders.
But he only pressed her back against the couch, and began kneading her tensed muscles. “C’mon, Sue. Take out the starch. Inhale a big breath…that’s it. Now let it out nice and slow.”
She tried, but she was still far too rigid.
“Don’t worry. We’ll get there eventually.” He settled back beside her. “That’s a promise, by the way.” Using the remote, he turned on the set and flipped through the channels until he found a movie in the middle of a love scene.
“There you go.” He took a swig of his beer. “Better than suffering more of that broiling sun.”
For a minute or two she watched the movie, her breathing deep and even, until the sex scene faded to dark. When the commercial came on, he flipped channels again, finding a sports update.
She half turned toward him, and, tension mounting, Logan waited to see what she’d do.
Using one hand, she touched his jaw. It was so unexpected, that spontaneous contact from her, that it rendered him mute, immobile and combustible.
“Men do seem to enjoy controlling the remote, don’t they?”
What did she know of men and their preferences on control? He found his voice to say, “You want me to go back to the movie?”
“I don’t care what we watch, but I’m glad you chose to stay inside.” She brushed her fingertips down to the side of his neck. “You’ve already gotten a little too much sun.”
Jesus, how could one simple touch do that to him? “On my shoulders, too,” he said huskily. “Hazard of the job, I guess. Half the time we work shirtless.”
Her gaze drifted to his shoulders, followed by her hand. “Construction is why you’re so tanned?”
“That, and I like the outdoors.” Blindly, he set aside his beer. “Swimming, boating, just being outside. I enjoy nature.” His brother had a very secret retreat on a lake. They’d each used it when they wanted to get away, when even female companionship didn’t appeal.
The log cabin was so rustic that anything more than a five-minute shower used all the hot water. Dishes had to be washed by hand—and so did clothing. The all-wood panel interior boasted three sparsely furnished bedrooms, a tiny kitchen with the barest essentials and a bathroom barely big enough to turn around in. The massive front deck, flanked by towering trees, overlooked the small secluded lake that was big enough for fishing, swimming and a rowboat or small trolling motor.
“Does it hurt?” she asked softly, teasing the skin of his shoulders.
“What?” He ached with lust, but he didn’t think she meant that.
“The sunburn.” She drifted her hand up to his nape, around to his collarbone.
It was such a bold move for her, so unexpected, that he forgot his plan. He caught her wrist, kissed her palm and then flattened her hand against his chest. “Sue?”
She stared at his mouth with yearning. “Your skin is so hot.”
Fuck it. She begged for a kiss, and God knew he wasn’t a saint. In the end, what did it matter if he made his move now or later? One way or the other, she’d be his.
His to enjoy.
And then his to use.
He put his hand around her nape and pulled her in as he leaned forward. At the first touch of his mouth on hers, she made a sound of pleasure, and Logan knew he was a goner.
