Mad Enough to Marry - By Christie Ridgway Page 0,26

in their hearts?"

"Of course." Her hand flew out in a dismissive gesture. "Anj^way, young love doesn't last, right? And passion dies too."

"Love, maybe. Passion?" His hand clamped down on her shoulder. "Why don't we test your theory?"

She was spun toward him even before his meaning sank in. Her spine stiffened and she opened her mouth to fling a cutting comment his way. But the look in his eyes stopped her, taking her breath. Their golden color molten now, his eyes mesmerized her as they drew nearer and nearer. She closed her own to avoid the spell.

And was bewitched by his lips instead.

It was a sweet kiss for a moment, gentle, but then she felt as if his mouth lit her on fire. A flaming shudder rolled down her spine and he jerked her close. She shuddered again, and his hands tightened then- grip on her shoulders.

His tongue slid inside her lips. Elena welcomed it with a moan. Suddenly she had to get closer to him, she had to know if his heat matched her own, so she pressed herself against his chest and twined her arms around his neck.

He groaned deep in his throat, and she felt the sound with her body as much as she heard it. It told her he was affected too, that he was already edging, as she was, toward the brink of control. Almost wild.

Wild.

The word hit her brain like an icy blast. She threw herself back, out of his arms. Finding herself shoulders-to-wall once more, she leaned into it gratefully, panting.

Logan's chest rose and fell with his own ragged breathing. Staring at her, he shook his head. ''What is it you do to me?"

She tried dredging up a scathing response. '*It was your idea," was the only thing she managed to get out.

'*Yeah." He shook his head again, then sucked in a long breath. "Me and my bright ideas."

Trying to banish the hot desire still rushing through her body, Elena closed her eyes. But instead of finding relief, she only found memories. It had been just like this the night they'd met, too. Out in the privacy of the darkness, he'd taken her in his arms.

She'd been kissed a couple of times before, an inexperienced—and face it—almost repulsive press of lips and unpracticed thrust of tongue from fourteen-and fifteen-year-old boys. But Logan had kissed her like a man, a man with experience, his mouth at first gently seductive.

Then as now, it had been Elena who had almost inmiediately flared into heated desire. Elena whose passion had rocketed through her body. In one single

moment she'd awakened, come shockingly alive, become a woman in the sense that she experienced a woman's needs. And also knew the man who could fulfill them.

She hung her head. **You should go."

'*Yeah." He didn't move.

Her gaze stayed glued to the tips of his shoes. *'Someone needs to be sensible."

*'Let's take a vote as to which one of us it should be." There wasn't even a hint of laughter in his voice.

Elena swallowed. "Has it ever been Hke that for you again?" She should hate herself for asking.

"Elena..."

Logan's hesitation, as well as his regret and frustration, clearly communicated themselves to her. It was as if that one kiss had reopened—or reforged— a channel between them, an intimacy that would take more than a hundred kisses, more than a hundred touches, to build with anyone but him.

"No, it's not been like that," he finally answered. "Not before. Not after."

Her stomach clenched. She lifted a hand, but then let it drop. What did it matter that stirring old embers ignited new flames? Not only was she afraid to be at the mercy of such a reckless fire, there was also no time in her life for a man. Particularly no time for this man, who wasn't her type and—^more to the point—she wasn't his.

Suddenly exhausted, she thunked the back of her head against the wall and closed her eyes. "Good night, Logan."

For a moment, silence was the only response, but then he muttered. "Oh, to hell with it," she heard him say, and dien she sensed his movement. He was finally leaving. Her tension released in a quick, quiet sigh.

That ended in a gasp when she found herself in his arms again. He swept her forward and crushed her against the hard wall of his chest. Then he kissed her.

No soft seduction this time. No gentle persuasion. This was the demanding kiss of a mature man who knew what response to expect. As she