Authors: Rochelle Alers
He shook his head slowly. “No.” And it was not as if he didn’t know who she was. “She was the daughter of a very prominent educator who found herself pregnant at fourteen.
“Meanwhile Maeve Prescott had tried unsuccessfully for years to adopt a white infant after she discovered she would never have children. But when she unwittingly discovered that the college president’s daughter was pregnant, she approached him and asked to adopt the baby. At first he balked because of her race, then agreed and everything was arranged beforehand.
“He sent his daughter up North to live with a relative to escape what was certain to become a scandalous scenario for his family. I was delivered at a small, private hospital. My biological mother never saw me, and when the doctor filed the papers recording my birth, the entry for my mother’s name read Maeve Logan. Jace Prescott was listed as the father. Maeve and Jace Prescott returned to Raleigh with a son whom they’d named Logan.”
“Was that legal?”
“As legal as if Maeve had given birth herself.”
“Is your birth mother still alive?”
Exhaling audibly, Logan nodded slowly. “Yes. She married an elected official and is the mother of two teenage
daughters. Whenever I see photographs of her, she appears very happy, and there is nothing I would do to destroy that happiness. Even though her parents forced her to give up her first child, I believe everyone came out a winner.”
What he didn’t tell Caryn was that his birth mother never knew the man and woman who claimed her firstborn for their own.
“You were very fortunate.”
“I’ve been blessed, Caryn. I love my parents very much, and there isn’t anything I would do to hurt them.”
But he had hurt them. He remembered about how disappointed his father was when he told him that he wasn’t going to marry Nina. Jace merely nodded, saying he would abide with his decision. Maeve’s navy-blue eyes had filled with tears, overflowed, and stained her pale cheeks. There was no way she could hide the pain when he’d held her and whispered that it was best he end the relationship now rather than have it end years later in a divorce. Maeve had forced a smile after he reminded her that when Prescott men married, they married for life.
The vegetable stand came into view alongside the road, and Logan maneuvered behind a battered pickup truck loaded with watermelons. He applied the parking brake, but did not turn off the engine. Hopping down nimbly, he came around and swung Caryn to the sand-littered grass.
He waited while she selected a watermelon and several containers filled with fresh berries. A middle-aged couple totaled her purchases, and he paid for them. He cradled the large watermelon under his arm, while Caryn carried a carton with the berries back to the automobile.
He placed the watermelon on the floor behind the front seats, then adjusted a sack of groceries on the backseat to make room for the berries.
“Do you need anything else?” he asked.
“If I did, where would we put it?”
“You’re right about that.”
Lifting her skirt, she attempted to climb up into the
four-wheel-drive vehicle, but was thwarted when Logan’s fingers circled her waist and lifted her effortlessly.
She smiled down at him, the gesture causing his breathing to falter. “Thank you again.”
He nodded. She’d flashed the smile he’d seen her give the young store clerk and Randy Bell. Whether she was aware of it or not, she was seducing him. But what surprised him was that he wanted to be seduced. There was something about Caryn Edwards that said if they did have a summer affair she would be as mature about it as he was certain he would be. They would enjoy each other’s company, and when it ended it would end smoothly without guilt or emotional entanglements. Maybe, just maybe he would let down his guard and let himself succumb to her seductive wiles.
The remainder of the afternoon passed quickly for Caryn. She and Logan returned to Marble Island, put away their purchases, then retreated to what had become their sanctuaries. For her it was the family room and for him the front porch. After changing into a pair of shorts with an oversized T-shirt, she picked up her journal and concluded her entries for the day:
I must admit it has been a very interesting day. I hadn’t planned to spend it with Logan Prescott—he finally revealed his last name, but I wasn’t given much of a choice. Now that I know who he is, I understand why he’s hiding out on Marble Island. He’s the one who jilted the very beautiful and very wealthy Nina Smith. And there’s no doubt her father is gunning for him, so if I were Mr. Prescott, I would seriously consider changing my zip code—to another state.
Lunch was very interesting and what followed equally interesting. We drove down the coast to a larger supermarket where Logan ran into a college friend who is vacationing on Gooseneck with his wife. They were Yale men, and Logan was captain of their rowing team. His friend Hamilton—Logan
calls him Ham—invited us to stay over with him and his wife. but thankfully Logan convinced him to stay with us. I much prefer to be the host rather than a guest, especially if sleeping accommodations become questionable. There is no way I could share a bed with Logan and remain celibate
.
I’m certain of this because of his kiss—not a deep, soul kiss, but still a kiss which left me wanting more. I try rationalizing my wanting more is due to a lack of intimacy for more years than I want to remember, but I must be honest with myself. Logan “Raven” Prescott can turn me on with just a glance. There’s something so mysteriously sensual about him that my insides quiver with an awareness of my femininity that no man—and that includes Tom—could elicit. It is exciting as well as frightening. I don’t know what will happen between us—there’s no guarantee anything will—however, a secret voice is telling me to just enjoy it, while the voice of reason says “don’t go there.” I suppose I’m going to have to let it all play out
.
Raven—the nickname is quite fitting—is a trained architect who now prefers urban planning—lives in Raleigh and works for his father. Speaking of his parents—he’s adopted. There’s no doubt he’s been spoiled and is quite privileged. But I must admit that he appears very well adjusted emotionally, considering his parents are caucasian. And if I had one word to sum up Logan Prescott, it would be unique
.
Caryn read her small, neat slanting script, smiling. Logan admitted he liked her, and she also had to admit to herself that she was beginning to like him. She was still smiling when she stood up, and her bare feet were silent as she made her way up the staircase to her bedroom and placed her journal on the bedside table. Standing at the window, she was aware of how quickly dusk had descended as the setting sun resembled a large orange basketball suspended in midair.
Watching nature prepare for nightfall was awesome. The
sky darkened to a soft gray, then a deeper blue to reveal a spray of stars dotting its surface. The sun was now a blood red as it sank slowly beyond the horizon until it disappeared from view. A full moon lit up the summer sky, and she tried making out some of the constellations visible to the naked eye.
She wasn’t certain how long she’d stood at the window when she heard Domino’s excited barking. A tender smile softened her mouth at the same time she spied the spotted puppy frolicking on the sand. She watched him make his way toward the incoming tide, then retreat whenever the breaking waves washed over his paws. The dog repeated his game of tag with the ocean until a high-pitched whistle garnered his attention. Standing completely still, he turned his head, then bounded back to the house.
She wanted to go downstairs and sit on the porch, but did not want to intrude on Logan and his pet. It was only nine-fifteen, but she decided to go to bed early again. Making her way across the bedroom, she closed the door.
Logan took Domino for his last walk, then returned to the porch. He’d managed to get some work done, not much, but at least he’d made an attempt. The architects at J. Prescott and Associates had designed the structures for a private community he’d projected to be as self-sufficient as a small city. The scheme was modeled to accommodate close to a thousand residents, who if they purchased units would live less than an hour’s drive from downtown Raleigh.
He recalled his excitement when he’d first revealed the idea to Nina and her reaction. She did what she always did whenever he told her of his visions—she listened intently. And not once had she ever given him any feedback other than, “That sounds wonderful.”
And he thought she had been wonderful. He’d told himself that she would make a wonderful wife and a wonderful
mother. His mouth tightened. How wrong he’d been.
The distinctive sound of a telephone interrupted his tortured thoughts. It rang three times before he attempted to go into the house to answer it. He made it to the kitchen and picked up the receiver on the fifth ring.
“Hello.”
There was a noticeable pause before a strong, masculine voice came through the wire. “May I please speak to Caryn Edwards.”
Logan hesitated. “Hold on and I’ll get her.” His tone was polite, but he was feeling anything but polite. It had taken only two days for the men to begin their pursuit of his beautiful housemate. The family room was dark, so he knew Caryn had to be upstairs.
Taking the stairs two at a time, he walked down the hallway and knocked on her door. “Caryn. You have a phone call.” He waited, then knocked again. His hand was poised to knock a third time when the door swung open.
Caryn stood in front of him, her damp hair falling over her shoulders. His penetrating gaze moved slowly and seductively from her face to her chest. It was apparent that she’d hastily thrown on a silky, peach-colored kimono to conceal her nakedness.
“You have a telephone call,” he repeated as she secured a matching belt around her narrow waist.
The smoldering flame she saw in his bold stare startled Caryn. She couldn’t move. It was as if he’d hypnotized her, rendering her motionless. She forced herself to take a step, but he blocked her means of egress.
She heard the runaway beating of her heart outside of her body, and she was certain he also heard it. “Logan.” His name was a whispery breathless sigh.
He was motionless, rooted to the spot. Nothing moved, not even his eyes. “Yes.” The single word came out like a long, drawn-out shudder.
The sound of his voice broke the spell as Caryn took another step, bringing her only inches from the man who
had invaded her space, her existence. “I have to answer the phone.”
Turning to his right, the motion so fluid and quick she thought she’d imagined it, he stepped out of the doorway. His gaze followed her as she brushed past him and made her way down the hallway to the room the Crawfords used for their library.
Closing his eyes, he luxuriated in the haunting fragrance of her perfume-scented flesh. Even with his eyes closed, he still could recall the vision of her damp black hair curling over her forehead, the sun-browned darkness of her fragile face, the brilliance of her large gold-green eyes, and the softly rounded curves of her very feminine body.
It was difficult, and becoming even more difficult with each passing hour to dismiss Miss Caryn Edwards. Unknowingly he had run away from one woman to find another who enchanted him as no other had before.
He’d tried not succumbing to the bewitching aura surrounding Caryn and had failed miserably. And it was only now he realized his attraction to his housemate had nothing to do with a physical temptation. Opening his eyes, he stared down the hall, a slight smile softening his mouth. It was about Caryn—the woman. Sharing his afternoon with her had been totally relaxing and comfortable. An invisible bond had surrounded him when he strolled up and down the wide aisles of the supermarket when they shopped for groceries. He’d felt a warm glow after the older woman had referred to them as a “lovely young couple.”
And he wanted to be a couple. At thirty-five he wanted to settle down, marry, and father children. He’d become a successful architect and urban planner, but his personal life was not as tidy and orderly as his career. However, he had believed he would achieve the elusive personal success the moment he’d proposed sharing his life with Nina Smith.
Inhaling and letting out his breath slowly, he walked down the hallway and returned to the lower level. Entering
the kitchen, he replaced the receiver of the wall telephone on its cradle, and in the few seconds it took to complete the motion he heard the soft laughter of Caryn’s voice mingling with that of the man who’d called her.
“What are you hiding from me, baby sister?”
Caryn settled herself on a rattan rocker and raised her bare feet to a matching cushioned ottoman. “I’m not hiding anything, Kyle.” There was just a hint of laughter in her voice.
“You tell me that I won’t see you this summer because you need to spend some time alone to
find yourself
. Does finding yourself include living with a man?”
“Don’t be such a stuffed shirt, Kyle Edwards,” she admonished her brother. “I’m not living with a man. I’m sharing the house with him.” There was a noticeable pause. “And you’d better not start in on me. Even if I
were
living with a man, there’s nothing wrong with—”
“Hold up, Caryn,” Kyle interrupted. “I’m not judging you. You should know me better than that. If you are living with a man, then I applaud it. You have to know all of us were worried about you when you broke up with Thomas.”
She winced. “Please don’t ever mention his name again.”
Kyle chuckled. “You have my word on that. What I’m trying to say is you managed to convince me that you were pretty much turned off of men.”
“I’m not turned off of men. I just don’t want to go out with your partner.”
“You know Larry still asks about you.”
“That’s nice, but I still won’t date him.” Lawrence Mackie was her brother’s business associate. The two men had formed a partnership and had established the largest Black-owned foreign car dealership in Philadelphia. And what Kyle failed to realize was what she recognized immediately in Larry’s personality was something she failed to
realize in Tom’s until it was too late. Both men unconsciously regarded females as inferiors and therefore felt the need to control, dominate, and subjugate a woman. It had happened once, and she would never permit it to happen again. Not with
any
man.
“The kids have been asking for you,” Kyle continued. “They miss you.”
“Tell them I’ll come up in the fall.”
“You’ll hardly recognize them by then. Both are growing like weeds.”
Her nine-year-old niece and seven-year-old nephew had inherited their father’s rawboned lankiness.
“We don’t get to see you enough, Caryn.”
“The past few years haven’t been the best,” she admitted.
“That’s why you need your family.”
“What I need is to get my head together. And for that I need time alone.”
She and Kyle talked for another ten minutes, laughing at the latest escapades his children had managed to get into. She ended the conversation confirming her visit to Philadelphia in the fall, then hung up.
Hearing her brother’s voice elicited a feeling of loneliness and detachment. Kyle missed her and she missed him. She missed his wife, their children, and her parents, but she would endure the sacrifice in order to put her life in order.
She returned to her bedroom, closed the door, slipped out of her robe, and got into bed. Picking up the paperback novel on a stack of a half dozen, she opened to the first page of Ralph Ellison’s
Invisible Man
. She had promised herself she would try to reread as many of her favorite novels as she could over the next two months.
She managed to finish thirty pages before reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. Closing her eyes, she slept without any dreams to disturb her restful slumber.
* * *
Caryn awoke early, an hour before sunrise, refreshed, and to the sound of rain tapping softly against the windows. Rain always made her want to remain in bed and snuggle under the blankets, but she decided to forego the luxury when she remembered she had to put up several batches of dough. Her donation to the Fourth of July celebration would be a cheese and chive braided loaf, several dozen leek and bacon garlic knots, and a watermelon boat filled with fresh melon balls and berries.
Slipping out of bed, she reached for her bathrobe, shivering slightly against the dampness seeping into the room from the open window. How quickly the weather had changed from sunny and hot to cloudy and wet.
Within half an hour she’d made her bed, showered, and was dressed in a pair of faded jeans with an equally faded college sweatshirt, and a pair of thick white socks. She brushed and braided her hair in a single plait, securing the curling end with an elastic band.
Staring at her reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door, she realized she looked no older than some of her students with her face free of makeup and her hair pulled back in the braid. However, she did notice the slight puffiness under her eyes that had been a constant reminder of her stress was no longer visible. Going to bed early the past two nights and sleeping undisturbed throughout the night had taken care of most of her physical fatigue.
She walked out of her bedroom and noted the door to Logan’s was closed. It wasn’t quite five o’clock, and it was apparent that he was still asleep. The house was dark, quiet, and she turned on several table lamps, hoping to dispel the gloominess.
Logan walked into the kitchen at exactly six o’clock and found it filled with the enticing smell of brewing coffee
and the sight of Caryn kneading dough on a floured countertop. The overhead light shone down on her jet-black shiny hair and highlighted the rich burnished gold undertones in her bronzed face.