Mad Enough to Marry - By Christie Ridgway Page 0,42

mouth. At the same time, he pulled her shirt from the waistband of her skirt. His hands were shaking, his fingers like clumsy paws, but he managed to unfasten the tiny buttons marching up its front

Her moan was soft and sweet when his palms skimmed her bare shoulders as he drew the shirt away. Needing to catch his breath, he lifted his head and looked down, only to lose all his air again. Wearing a short dark skirt and a lacy white bra that half bared the plump mounds of her breasts, Elena looked like a French maid fantasy come to Hfe.

Standing in the dim room before him, her eyes were wide pools and her mouth was reddened and swollen from his kisses. She looked exotic, erotic, like every dark desire and every dark need he wanted to pretend wasn't inside a civihzed man like himself.

That desire, that need, they were the beast, and as he looked at Elena it flexed its claws, digging deep, part-pleasure, part-pain.

**Take it off," he heard himself say in a harsh voice. He didn't trust himself to touch her right now.

*'Logan..."

She was getting ready to talk again. He sucked in a quick breath, trying to keep control. ' Take your bra off."

Then she smiled, secret, seductive, and it stroked the wildness inside of him. "All right." Her hand lifted to toy with the front clasp of her bra.

He couldn't look away. His focus narrowed to her slim, scarlet-tipped forefinger and the tiny circles it

was making on the bra's fastening. A flick of her thumb and she would spill out of those lacy cups. A flick of her thumb and he could let her spill into his palms or into his mouth.

*Take it off,'* he whispered hoarsely.

Elena smiled again. "I will. Soon."

Fisting his hands at his sides, he shook his head. *'Don't tease me."

She gave him a look through her sweep of lashes that said teasing was exactly what she wanted to do. Logan dug his nails into his palms, holding on, holding out against the need to touch, grab, take. Desire burned like hot breath over his skin as he tried to find an ounce of the urbanity that usually defined him.

She wouldn't recognize the man she made him into. He didn't recognize himself. But it was too late to pull back.

The electronic beep of a watch alarm penetrated his consciousness. Frowning, Elena stilled.

*'Oh, no," she said, touching the watch on her wrist. **I knew there was something I had to tell you."

Blood pounded through his body. "Nothing's going to stop what's happening here."

*'Just a postponement," she said breezily, then turned away.

*'Elena!" He lunged for her, and missed, thank God, before he could scare the hell out of her and embarrass himself.

She bent over her tote bag that was sitting on the floor by the front door. Though Lx)gan had stopped himself from grabbing her, he couldn't stop his gaze

from climbing the length of the back of her thigh, the round curve of her butt. Then it dropped down the sweep of her spine and around to her breasts, their weight confined by tiie bra.

He wanted them free.

**Elena...''

She straightened and he tried to pretend what he saw in her hands wasn't there. But, hell, there was no denying that she was clasping that damn shoebox-crib that held her eggs-assignment.

''No." He shook his head. "Not tonight."

Her lips twitched as her eyes opened wide with innocence. "It takes just a few minutes to feed them and put them back to sleep."

The beast was clawing at him, demanding even louder to be released. "Unless you want a plate of scrambled eggs before sex, Elena, you will very, very carefully put that box somewhere safe and sound."

She smiled again, then tossed the box, not even looking to see where it landed.

Startled, he took an automatic step toward it himself.

"Don't bother," Elena caUed softly. "Gabby's babysitting for me tonight."

His gaze jerked back to her face. "Then the interruption—"

"Was payback." She made a big show of yawning, ending with a dainty pat of her hand over her mouth. "For that."

Payback. Teasing.

Torment.

She had no idea of the man or the mood she was playing with. It should have checked him, that naivete, but instead it only goaded him further.

*'No more games," he said flatly, holding out his hand. "Come here."

Elena stilled, a frown between her arched eyebrows. She looked apprehensive.

Good. Someone had to take care, and, after all these years, he knew it wouldn't be him. He'd avoided her, avoided this very