Mad Enough to Marry - By Christie Ridgway Page 0,47

succession of other men." 1 m sorry.

Her apology had him opening his eyes, instantly suspicious. "What did you say?" he asked.

She bit her lip, then ran her hand through his hair. "That was a nasty crack." She toyed with one lock, curUng it around her finger. "I...I don't know what I wish, but I understand why you said no that night."

Logan wasn't sure even he knew all the answers to that, but he nodded then took the opportunity to broach another subject. "You've waited a long time to...to..."

"Have sex?" she prompted.

He didn't know why the two simple words made him want to tear something into a thousand Uttle pieces. "Make love."

Her shoulder jerked in a partial shrug. "Not any particular reason. I just never found the right man at the right time."

She'd never trusted a man that much, Logan realized, gathering her closer. Elena was so very careful with sharing herself, soul and body. But for a little time, anyway, she'd trusted him.

She yawned and closed her eyes, snuggling her cheek into the pillow.

"What are you doing now?" he asked. Besides avoiding him, because that was perfectly obvious.

'*Mmm," she murmured, wriggling within his embrace as if trying to get more comfortable. *'Settling into that nice, quiet, post-coital sleep you requested."

He let her wriggle and he let her close her eyes, but he didn't let her out of his arms. His gaze on her face, he reran the entire act in his mind. Once he'd entered her and realized how inexperienced she was, that wildness she called from him had stayed safely in the distance. He didn't know if he could have handled being at the mercy of the beast this first time with her.

She made a little sound and he could tell she actually was settling into sleep now. He leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose, then drew in a long breath that was an unforgettable combination of Elena's sun-washed-flowers scent and sex.

Some time before dawn, Logan rose from the futon, remembering Elena's concern that his mother would know they'd slept together. He softly kissed Elena's mouth and whispered that he'd see her later. She murmured in response, her hand lifting drowsily to touch his cheek.

His body instantly hardened and he felt the stirrings of rampant lust reawakening. He had to force himself away from her because he wanted with equal strength both to take her again and to tenderly to guard her sleep.

It was a toss-up, really, as to which impulse was more dangerous. Either way he was at the mercy of the beast...or at the mercy of the most surprising, sexy, staggeringly beautiful woman he'd ever known.

Chapter Ten

Logan tripped over the hammer he'd left on the floor and saved himself from falling by shoving his hand against the downstairs kitchen doorjamb—jamming a thick spUnter into the heel of his thumb at the same time.

**Damn this entire day to hell,'* he muttered, staring down at his wounded palm. The shard of wood had worked itself deep.

He hated spUnters. He hated digging them out. He hated that this day had gone sour from the early-moming moment when he'd left Elena's bed.

His mother came around the comer, apparently just in from her afternoon shift at the thrift shop that supported the nearby children's hospital. **Was that you I heard cursing?"

*'Guilty." Logan scowled at his hand again. Then he looked back at his mother, trying to sound polite. "How was your day?"

**0h, fine," she said with a vague smile.

Laura Chase was continuing with her usual Saturday schedule, just as the other women in Logan* s life were continuing with theirs. Gabby had been in and out but was now in, working on a school project, she'd said. Elena had left the house in the morning, sneaking out in an effort to avoid him, Logan was sure. He'd called her office to no avail and Gabby had no idea when to expect her.

Logan had no idea what to expect from her, but that she'd ducked out without talking to him was a very bad sign that had made for a very bad day.

*'Do you have plans for dinner?" his mother asked. "Or would you like me to cook for you?"

Logan stifled a groan. There had been help in the Chase kitchen for his mother's forty-plus years of marriage and so her culinary talents hadn't developed past the green Jell-0 salads and tuna-and-potato chip casseroles that must have been standard home-ec class fare when she was a young woman. "Maybe we