Mad Enough to Marry - By Christie Ridgway Page 0,18

a desperate grab for her sUpping purse.

It hit the floor with a soUd thump and then was joined by a grocery sack. And then another.

Without waiting for her p^mission, he picked all three up. Without looking at her, he headed past her, up the stairs.

'*I can manage. Put those down."

He kept climbing. She was still for another moment, as if flabbergasted that someone would ignore her orders, then he heard her start after him. When they reached her door, she dropped more groceries as she fumbled through her tote bag for her keys.

When he wordlessly reached down for the fallen sacks, he caught her glare. And then found himself glaring right back. **What the hell is the matter with you? Why is it so difficult to accept some simple help?"

She stilled. **I..." Her hand lifted vaguely, then she turned away to put the key in the door. With a jerky movement she unlocked it, pushed it open, then stepped inside.

He followed her, suddenly irritated and very un-wiUing to let the subject go. **It's the same with that insulting crack you made about me letting you stay

here because I wanted something—^you—out of it." The groceries he dropped to the kitchen countertop. He held on to the purse, squeezing it instead of wringing her lovely neck. "I offered to let you stay here because you needed a place to live and I happened to have an empty apartment."

His temper kindhng, he stomped toward the apartment door. "For your information, I don't need to hand out house keys in order to get myself a woman."

*'Are you saying you didn't want me a few minutes ago when we were sitting on the step?" Her voice was icy-hot.

It did not cool him down. He turned to face her. 'I'm sorry. All right? I'm sorry I tried to kiss you."

Her blue eyes flashed. "You heard me say no. Is there something about that word you don't understand?"

The flames of his temper leaped. He didn't remember ever feeling this angry toward a woman. Maybe toward anyone. He knew himself to be even-tempered. Good-natured to a fault.

But right now there was an emotion burning through his blood that was unfamiliar. It made the colors in the room sharper and all his senses more acute.

*T heard what you said," he snapped. He could also hear her drawing air in and out, the rhythm as fast as his own ragged breathing. "But I also knew that your body, your blood, your desire was saying *yes."'

Spots of color lit high on her cheeks. **How dare you presume to know what I want?"

He rolled his eyes. *'Elena, give me a break. I wasn't about to ravish you. A kiss. Just a kiss."

*'A kiss," she repeated. Her breasts were heaving against her dress.

That unfamiliar, unnameable emotion surged in him and his focus tightened on the delectable, furious face of the one woman who'd been his every bad dream and every frustrating fantasy for the past months. **Yes, a kiss. A kiss that if you were honest with yourself you would agree you wanted. From me, Elena, Would that have been so bad? It's not like we're strangers,"

She was frozen for a moment, then her eyes narrowed to shards of blue glass, **No, not strangers," Her hand made a quick, cutting movement. **I know you very well. You're the man who was once the high-and-mighty, heardess boy who asked me to the school prom then stood me up when you decided I wasn't good enough for you."

Logan's lungs were working like a steam engine when he shoved open the door to his ^artment. He started to run his fingers through his hair but then realized he was still clutching Elena's purse.

**Damn it." He kicked the door closed behind him, then tossed the purse onto his couch and headed for the bathroom. He'd have to return her property, of course, but not until he had hold of himself.

Cold tap water filled his cupped palms and then he

dashed it over his face. When that didn't cool him down, he did it again, then stared at his reflection in the mirror over the sink.

What the hell was the matter with him? He looked the same. He looked like Logan Chase, reasonable, rational man. But too long in Elena's presence and he was like a werewolf under a full moon. Ho-o-o-wl.

But it wasn't his fault. She'd been sniping at him for months, getting in quick digs about standing her up at every opportunity. He might have let that