"He was afraid?"
"Terrified. I was shocked. Up until that point, he'd been Mr. Fearless."
"What did you do?"
"The barber sat down on the floor and asked Will to sit in front of him and that was that."
"I've known a barber or two I wish I'd run from," Logan said, chuckling, as he turned the page, then froze. His breath rushed out in a whoosh.
The drawing depicted a day at the swimming hole. Will knelt beside the water playing in mud, his face streaked with dirt, his grin wide and a little bit ornery. Suzanne had drawn herself seated on a quilt, a sketchbook in her hands.
"Oh, dear." Caroline grabbed at the book. "I forgot about that drawing."
Logan kept a death grip on the page. Caroline lay against another quilt, her long, lush eyelashes resting above rosy cheeks as she slept. Her hair was mostly dry, pinned in wild disarray atop her head, though a few straggling curls lay in damp ringlets against her cheeks. From the neck up she looked like a Madonna in repose, a peaceful, resting angel.
From the neck down...one word came to Logan's mind. Sin.
Her bathing costume would have gotten her arrested in a public venue. Instead of one of those navy-blue bloomer girl uniforms he'd seen women wearing on California beaches and along the Texas Gulf Coast, she wore what appeared to be her underwear—white, lacy, thin. Transparent.
"Please, Logan." She tried to yank the book from his grip.
Yes, it pleased him.
The wet fabric clung to her skin, outlining the shapely length of her legs, the curve of her hip, the fullness of her breasts. Motherhood had softened her body and given it a lushness that she carried still today.
He reached out with an index finger and traced the line of her figure from her bare feet up her calf to her thigh and—
Caroline yanked hard and successfully snatched the book away and slammed it shut. "Really," she muttered. "I don't know why I didn't tear that page out of the book. Suzanne had no business..."
His gaze locked on hers and in her wide violet eyes he watched both awareness and trepidation bloom. She moistened her lips. The air between them thickened and went hot. "No business what?"
"M-m-making me look like that."
"Like what? Beautiful? Alluring? Sultry?" When she closed her eyes and shook her head, he focused on her lips. "You were all those things, Caroline. You
are
all those things.. .and more." He leaned forward, pressed a butterfly kiss against her lips. "Tempting." He touched his lips to hers again. "Tantalizing."
Her mouth opened on an evocative little gasp and Logan rimmed her lips with his tongue. "Tasty."
She shivered. "Oh, Logan."
He laid claim to her with his kiss, plundering her mouth, tasting her, taunting her, demanding she respond. For a brief moment, her spine remained stiff, her muscles tense, but when he made a low-throated sound of encouragement, the dam broke.
She returned his kiss with a fiery heat that seared him to his bones. The sketchbook slid to the floor as her hands lifted to rest upon his shoulders, then clutch him there as he took the kiss deeper.
Logan speared his fingers through her heavy curls. Her lips moved firmly beneath his, and her tongue met his with a heady passion. Desire pulsed in his blood and instinct took over. Fitting his hard frame against her soft curves, he pressed her back.. .back.. .then he rolled them both until she lay full and flat against the mattress. At his mercy.
He settled in beside her and lifted his head just enough to breathe. "Caroline."
Her eyes were closed, her breathing shallow and fast. Her lips, swollen from his kiss. Beautiful. So damned beautiful.
His hand tugged at the buttons lining the high neckline of her suit until he revealed the creamy skin he sought. Then he skimmed his mouth across her cheek to her neck where he nibbled and licked and sucked on her skin until she shuddered. Boldly, his fingers trailed down her bodice, exploring the luscious swell of her breast. Her breath caught and she squirmed beneath his touch, shaking her head back and forth as he cupped her fullness, kneaded her, teased her nipple to a turgid peak. Mentally, he cursed the layers of fabric separating his palm and her sweet skin.
He wanted her naked. He wanted to see her bounty revealed, to touch and taste and sample at his leisure. He wanted to free his aching erection and thrust inside her hot, slick passage, to take her and claim her and slake his lust and hers until they both collapsed in exhausted bliss.
And yet, the small part of him that retained possession of his wits recognized the danger in pursuing the pleasure his body so fervently demanded.
It was too soon. He and Caroline had too much left to settle. Indulging themselves here and now would only complicate an already complex situation.
Knowing this delightful interlude must end, he captured her mouth once more in a hard, deep kiss that communicated his need and frustration and desire. Then with a groan, he wrenched himself away from her and lay on his back beside her, gritting his teeth and breathing as if he'd run ten miles in five minutes.
Caroline lay without moving for a full half a minute, then abruptly levered herself to a sitting position. "Oh my God."
She scrambled off the bed and whirled on him, her eyes wide and wild. "Oh my God," she repeated.
With jerky fingers, she buttoned the neck of her blouse. Embarrassment bloomed on her cheeks like roses.
She went to the door and opened it. "You need to leave now."
He sighed and rolled to a seated position. "Caroline..."
"Just leave. Please, just leave." A shrill note entered her voice as she added, "You know how to do that. I know. I was there."
He stood and took a step toward her. "Honey..."
"Stop! Go! I've done this once. I'm not doing it again."
What was she talking about? Sex? "Have you not had sex again in all this time?" Hell, he'd been young, sure, but... "Was I that bad?"
"No. I haven't been with another man, but that's not what I mean. I've raised one child alone. I'm not going through that another time. Do you hear me? Not again. Never again. Get out of here now, Logan Grey, or I'll...I'll..."
"Wait a minute." Logan dragged his mind away from the fact that she'd remained virtuous all this time and thought about what she'd said. His own temper flared. "Wait just one minute. I'll take a lot from you—heaven knows I deserve it—but give me some credit here. I learn from my mistakes. Don't be talking like I'd walk out on you again if you turned up pregnant, because I wouldn't. I won't. Take that as a promise or a warning, however you wish."
He grabbed his hat and headed for the door, pausing at the threshold to say, "I don't know how things are going to settle between us, Caroline. I figure we both have some thinking to do. I know that I want you. It took every ounce of discipline I possess to roll away from you just now, but I did it. I want credit for that."
"This isn't a contest, Logan Grey."
"Right about now it feels like a war, to be honest. And speaking of honest, you need to be honest with yourself and admit that I was the one who pulled back today. Blame me and curse me, but you were right there with me."
She sucked in a breath as the color faded from her face. Quietly, she said, "I know that."
Well, hell. Logan dragged a hand through his hair. "Look, Caroline, I don't want to hurt you. There's a fire between us, and there's no denying that. How we choose to deal with it.. .well.. .it seems a shame to waste it. Heat like that doesn't come along very often."
"I shouldn't be thinking about heat. I should be thinking about fear and danger and rescue. I won't be ruled by my passions, Logan Grey."
"Seems to me that indulging in and being ruled by are two different things. And you can't think about Will's trouble all the time. That will drive you crazy. Believe me, I have plenty of experience in such things. That aside, I reckon we should both spend some time deciding what we want and how we intend to deal with one another. But, Caroline, when you are doing your thinking, you need to know this. No matter what happens to us, I aim to be part of that boy's life from here on out. You invited me in, now you're going to have to deal with me."
Logan expected her to slam the door behind him.
He wasn't disappointed.
Scanned by Coral
From her hotel room window, Caroline watched dawn break in a symphony of pinks, oranges and golds. She'd slept maybe an hour over the course of the night and that was spent curled up in a fetal position at the head of the bed—as far from the spot of her stupidity as possible.
She couldn't believe what had happened. Couldn't understand how she'd left her brain in the hallway when she brought Logan Grey into her room. What was it about that man that sapped every bit of sense she possessed? He was like a vampire who sucked away her intelligence rather than her blood. That he turned into a hot, pounding pulse of sexual desire.
"Leave it to Lucky Logan Grey to be different from all the other vampires," she muttered.
She butted her forehead against the cool window-pane. She wasn't being fair. Her behavior wasn't Logan's fault. None of this was Logan's fault. Not really. She was the one who was here under false pretenses. She was the one who brought him into her room.
The fact of the matter was she'd had an infatuation for Logan Grey since she was in pigtails. "Will I never grow up?"
Actually, she might well be forced into such a state when they reached Van Horn. Logan might not forgive her lie.
Maybe she shouldn't regret what had happened as much as what had not happened. That may well have been her last chance to enjoy marital relations with her husband.
"Aargh!" She banged her head against the window-pane three more times.
An hour later, bathed and dressed and with her defenses shored up, Caroline left the Blackstone Hotel. The downtown street bustled with activity as workers hurried to begin their business day. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and bread right out of the oven drifted on the cool morning breeze. Caroline stopped at the bakery owned by the McBride sisters' aunt Claire and purchased a cinnamon roll for her breakfast and a scrumptious-looking chocolate cake she intended to take home to Will. Then, fifteen minutes before the train's scheduled departure, she arrived at the Texas and Pacific Depot.
Logan and his two friends waited outside. Caroline greeted Mr. Driscoll and Mr. Hollister before turning to her husband. She had to force herself to meet his gaze. "Good morning, Logan."
"Mornin'." Without betraying any remembrance of their encounter the previous day, he peered into the shopping bag she carried and whistled. "Look here, boys. Caro brought us a treat."
"No, it's for..." Oh. Wait. She couldn't say Will. This lying was absolutely a problem for her. "Lunch. The cake is for dessert after lunch."
"Oh, that's one of Claire McBride's cakes," Holt Driscoll observed, eyeing the printing on the bag. "You know, ma'am, lunch is an awfully long time away. How about we make it a midmoming snack?"
The hopeful waggle of his eyebrows made Caroline smile and reconsider. After all, these two men were risking their lives for her family. If they wanted Will's cake, they could have it.
"Here." She handed Holt the bag. "Have it whenever you want."
"What a woman," Cade said, snatching the bag from his friend's hand. The two men scrapped like little boys over the sweet and set the tone for the first few hours of their trip.
With passengers in the railcar surprisingly sparse, the men stretched out on one bench apiece, allowing Caroline a seat of her own, also. Conversation remained light and easy, and none of Logan's comments to her ventured into personal matters. Thank goodness.
Cade talked her into breaking out the cake in the second hour of the trip. They'd finished the entire thing by the time the train reached Abilene.
Caroline drifted into sleep shortly after lunch, and she dreamed that she was home and that Suzanne was still alive. It was a lovely fantasy; she stood at the stove stirring a pot of stew while Suzanne worked flour into bread dough on the counter. Will's laughter rang out from the other room and moments later, a man's hands gripped her waist, a mouth nuzzled her neck.
Logan.
Awareness trickled in. She was warm. Comfortable. Secure. The scent of starch and bayberry tickled her nose. Mmm. She didn't want to wake up.
So she didn't. She snuggled against the warmth, drifted and dreamed.
This time her dreams turned dark.
She is alone in the middle of a vast plain. Something bad is happening, something terrible, and she needs to get home. She starts running but she doesn't know what direction to go. Fear is a big black raven that sinks its talons into her shoulders and flaps its wings, creating a violent wind that makes it harder for her to run. Suddenly, the raven screams and the plain transforms to a mud bog that sucks her feet until she sinks to her knees.
Then on the horizon, light dawns and reveals a shadowed figure standing with his arms outstretched. Thunder booms and from behind her comes the pound of hoofbeats headed her way. She twists around and as lightning flashes against a red sky, she sees a horseman riding out of the black void. His horse is black. His clothing is black. Beneath the broad brim of his black hat, red eyes glow.
Caroline wants to scream, but she can't make a sound.
Lightning blazes and thunder rolls and bitter cold wind whips over her as the devil-rider rides past, flying toward the light. The figure on the horizon begins waving his arms.
Caroline hears a cry, a shrill keening sound. Then laughter. Harsh, maniacal laughter that causes the raven's claws to dig deeper.
She struggles, battles against the mud that now threatens to swallow her. Thunder cracks and booms as the horseman rides straight for the figure that shouts out, "Ma! "
"Will!" she cried, breaking through the dream, fighting her way free of the mud, which upon awakening proved to be Logan Grey's arms.
"Shush, sweetheart," he murmured, nuzzling her temple. "It's all right. Everything is fine. You were dreaming."