Chapter 4 #3
Logan didn’t move. He was feverishly aware of her body just behind him, her scent, the feel of her breath on his skin.
He began to sweat profusely. One of Madeline’s long golden-brown curls fell over his shoulder, tickling his neck.
An aching pressure gathered in his groin.
He was rock-hard, his entire being consumed with lust and yearning.
Logan couldn’t stand it any longer. He broke in midsentence, just as Charles had…only he wasn’t laughing.
The theater was silent. Logan tried to collect himself, aware that the cast and crew were watching.
Perhaps they thought he had forgotten a line, although that had never happened before.
He hoped to God no one suspected the truth—that he was completely undone by one naive girl.
Setting his jaw hard, he took several deep, even breaths.
“Mr. Scott,” came Madeline’s hesitant voice from behind him, “if you would like me to tell you the line—”
“I know the bloody line,” he said, his back stiff. God help him, if he glanced at her even once, he was afraid of what he might do.
Julia spoke from the audience seat. “Is there a problem, Mr. Scott?”
Logan responded with a murderous glare, longing to strangle his comanager for putting him in this situation.
Julia was genuinely puzzled, staring back at him with knitted brows.
She pondered his simmering discomfort, her gaze flickering from him to Madeline, who continued to stand right behind him.
Then she seemed to understand. They had been friends for a long time, he and Julia. She knew him too well.
“Shall we break for a few minutes?” she asked briskly.
“No,” Logan muttered. “Let’s finish the damned scene.” He swiped at his forehead and resumed the monologue once more, starting somewhere in the middle. Madeline followed along, a note of uncertainty in her voice.
Without regard to technique, characterization, or any of the nuances of acting, Logan muddled through the rest of the scene. Julia let the performance pass without comment, speculation causing her fair brow to crease.
The second the scene ended, Julia called for a twenty-minute break. The theater company dispersed at once, heading to the greenroom in search of refreshment or to the dressing rooms. Logan remained in his chair onstage, keeping his back to Madeline until he sensed that she had left.
Slowly Julia made her way to the edge of the stage, rubbing the small of her back. “Logan,” she said quietly, “I have no desire to interfere—”
“Then don’t.” He walked downstage to within a few feet of her, staring into her upturned face.
Julia made certain no one was close enough to overhear before she continued, choosing her words with obvious care. “I suspected there was an attraction between you and Maddy, but she’s not the kind of girl you’ve ever been interested in before, and I certainly never dreamed—”
“What is your point, Your Grace?”
She looked stung by his abruptness. “I happen to like Maddy. I hope you won’t take advantage of her. You and I both know she would never recover from an affair with you. She’s not nearly hardened enough.”
Logan felt his face turn to stone. “What I do—or don’t do—with her is my business.”
“Maddy’s welfare is also my concern. And I seem to recall your hard-and-fast rule that you never become personally involved with anyone in the company—”
“She’s your employee, not mine. I didn’t hire her, and therefore I’m free to do whatever the hell I want with her.”
“Logan,” she warned in frustration, watching as he strode away.
Madeline wandered through the greenroom, summoning a wan smile in response to the other actors’ praise for her efforts.
“What’s the matter with Mr. Scott?” she overheard someone asking. “He’s been acting strange lately.”
“Who knows?” came another’s reply. “I just hope it isn’t that bloody fever that’s going around. All the company needs is for Mr. Scott to be under the hatches.”
The rest of the conversation was lost on Madeline as she headed to the practice rooms. She needed to find a place to think.
What had happened onstage? She had thought everything was going well.
She had even felt a sort of connection with Mr. Scott.
But he had turned wooden, his performance strangely mechanical, as if he could hardly bear her presence.
She felt close to weeping…she wanted to hide somewhere.
She heard rapid footsteps behind her. Someone caught her arm in a biting grip and ushered her into the nearest practice room. Madeline stumbled a little, twisting to stare at her captor with wide eyes as he closed the door. “Mr. Scott…”
His face was in shadow, the outline of his head framed by shafts of light coming in from the window.
His breathing was rough and unsteady. She stepped back, but he caught her with startling suddenness, his hands closing on either side of her head.
It seemed that he tried to say something, then gave up with a muffled sound and kissed her.
His mouth was startlingly hot, almost clumsy with urgency. He explored her as if he couldn’t get enough, trying to assuage a hunger that would never be satisfied. Madeline trembled in surprise, meeting his aggression with a surrender that only inflamed him more.
His hand raked down her back, nearly tearing the fabric of her costume.
Madeline couldn’t help molding herself to him, craving more, her legs parting at the hard intrusion of his thigh.
She wrapped her arms around him, clasping the taut muscles of his back.
This was what she had wanted, what she had dreamed of, and it was even sweeter than she had imagined.
His mouth was tender and erotic, his body hard against hers, filling her with delicious, giddy weakness.
His lips broke from hers, and he gasped harshly against her ear.
Taking a fistful of her long hair, he pushed it aside and pressed his lips against her throat.
He found a sensitive place on the side of her neck, kissing, gently biting until she whimpered in pleasure.
She was desperately empty inside; she wanted something… something…
He shoved at the sleeves of her gown and shift, the material tightening until stitches popped and her naked breast was revealed.
Madeline caught her breath as she felt him cup the soft weight, brushing the tip with his fingers, pulling gently until the point was taut and aching.
She leaned against him, her body shaking uncontrollably.
“Sweet,” he whispered, holding her tightly.
“Sweet. Don’t be afraid.” He arched her over his solid arm, and she felt his lips slide over her breast until they closed over the aroused nipple.
He brought it to an even harder peak with swirling touches of his tongue, seeming to know exactly how to pleasure her.
Suddenly Mr. Scott lifted his mouth from her breast and let go of her.
Stunned by the abrupt release, Madeline stared at him in astonished silence.
Her hands came up to cover her nakedness, and she turned away from him, fumbling with her gown.
Her fingers trembled violently, making the task impossible.
She struggled with her clothes until she felt his hands on her once more, carefully pulling her sleeves and bodice back into place.
As soon as she was safely covered, Mr. Scott retreated to the other side of the small room.
He dragged his hand through his hair, letting out an explosive sigh.
After a long time, he spoke while facing away from her.
“Maddy, I didn’t mean to…approach you that way.
It’s just that I…” He stopped with a grim laugh. “I can’t seem to stop myself.”
She gripped her hands together. “Mr. Scott,” she said with difficulty, “I’m not sorry that you kissed me.”
He turned at the words, his eyes like blue fire.
He came to her in three strides, taking her face in his hands.
“Maddy,” he whispered. His lips came to the curve of her cheek, and he smoothed her hair back from her face, his fingers curling in the silken locks.
“I wish to hell I didn’t want you so badly. ”
Her heart gave a leap of pleasure at the words. “Mr. Scott—”
“Listen to me, Maddy.” He let go of her and drew back. “I’m not going to make love to you, regardless of how much I desire you. You would hate me afterward, and I would probably hate myself.”
“I could never hate you.”
He smiled sardonically. “No? Not even after I’ve robbed you of your innocence? Any involvement with me would change you, and not for the better.”
“I’m willing to take that risk.”
“You don’t understand.” His mouth twisted bitterly. “I use women for physical pleasure, nothing more. Once I’ve learned all a partner has to offer, it’s not long before I become bored and move on to the next one. You wouldn’t last long in my bedroom.”
“Haven’t you ever been in love?” Madeline asked, staring at his set face.
“Once. It didn’t work.”
“Why—”
“You don’t need to know about my past, any more than I need to know about yours.”
Madeline didn’t argue, knowing that he was probably right.
The more she knew about him, the more difficult it would be to leave him when the time came.
Like so many other women, she had been ensnared by Logan Scott’s potent mixture of masculinity and mystery.
For her own protection, she had to keep her heart safe.
Suddenly Mrs. Florence’s sage advice came to mind…
Whatever you do, you mustn’t act lovestruck.
Simply make it clear that you’re available and willing…
that you’re offering pleasure with no responsibility.
“Mr. Scott,” she said quietly, “if you’re attracted to me, I don’t see why we shouldn’t act upon it. All I want is one night with you.”