Chapter Five
Emma caught her breath as every nerve ending stood at attention.
Swallowing hard, she pushed his hand away and sat up.
He leaned too close. She scrambled to her knees, determined not to flee, but unsure she could stay and talk to him.
Her thoughts were in turmoil, contradictory feelings surged through her.
His green eyes blazed as he stared at her, waiting, watching.
“You’re too close,” she blurted, then wanted to wrap the towel over her head.
The last word in sophistication? No, she sounded like the frightened teenager.
He shrugged and leaned on one elbow, his gaze never leaving hers, the frown of puzzlement giving way to speculation.
“I’m not touching you. How close is too close?”
She looked out at the blue water, feeling as foolish as she must look. She led a quiet life in a college town, not some wild party existence like Lily. But he thought she did. She was not the type to casually kiss men, he’d see that in no time.
Yet, why not? Hadn’t her sister said they were more alike than Emma realized, after all, they were twins. If he thought Lily would be willing to kiss a bit, why not her?
Lily. What would this do to her sister and her relationship with her neighbor?
Obviously this needed much more thought.
Though she found it impossible to think when Logan sat close enough that she could feel his heat, or when his eyes stared into hers like green lasers searching, seeking.
Or when his breath fanned across her cheeks.
“What did you think we’d do, run amok after one or two kisses and end up in a bedroom? Give me a little credit for a bit of finesse.”
Warmth spread across her chest, up her neck and into her cheeks.
Tilting her head slightly as she gravely stared at him, she almost nodded.
Without thinking, she reached out and ran her fingertips along his shoulders.
He felt hot and sleek and so sexy Emma knew she was way out of her league.
The question was, could she survive a few kisses and not fall into a summer fling?
When he took her hand and kissed each fingertip, Emma knew it didn’t matter if she survived or not, she wanted this. But she couldn’t go against twenty-four years of living.
Snatching back her hand, she smiled shakily.
“Do you still want to tell me about your trip to Italy? I’d love to hear more about your work, how you got started...”
She trailed off, worried he’d already covered this with Lily.
He reached for her hand, holding it firmly in his, drawing it up until his lips brushed across her wrist, sending waves of tingling awareness up her arm.
His smile caught her eyes and she couldn’t look away.
Wishing she felt comfortable enough to lean forward slightly and touch her lips to the bare skin of his shoulder, she left her hand in his, tightening her grip slightly.
Now what? Did she look as inept and scared as she felt?
“I’ll tell you all about Italy, and then we can compare notes with what you saw when you visited Rome and Florence.
We can swim again if you like, or just laze around on the beach for a while.
I have to go up to the house sometime this afternoon and check in with the office, but the rest of the day is free. ”
She nodded, watching him warily, slowly relaxing. He didn’t seem mad she’d refused to play his game. His voice sounded calm, matter-of-fact. A twinge of disappointment stabbed. She would have liked a bit more If he had really wanted to kiss her again, wouldn’t he have pushed harder?
“Then we’ll go to Garcia’s and—”
Her heart pounded as she thought about trying to continue the bluff through dinner.
“—Hope I can stay awake long enough to eat,” Logan said. He lay back on the towel, and slowly opened his hand.
She withdrew hers and scooted a bit farther away, as if that would dampen the uncertainty that plagued her. Maybe it wouldn’t, but a bit of distance would let her garner some semblance of control. She had a feeling she’d remember this day all her life.
They lay side by side in the sun, dozing, turning.
Logan asked her to reapply the sun screen.
Emma complied, wondering if this could be considered a form of foreplay.
When she rubbed his back, she took her time, savoring each stroke of her palm against the hard muscles that bunched and relaxed beneath her touch.
She’d never had such luxury of exploring a man’s body before, never experienced the sensuous awareness so much touching brought.
When she turned onto her stomach, Logan returned the favor, slipping down the straps of her suit, teasing her by easing his fingertips beneath the edge of the spandex and coating skin that would never see the sunlight.
Her eyes tightly closed, she tried to breathe normally.
She felt as if she were on fire, but refrained from protesting, savoring the sensations long after he lay back down and dozed off.
Emma turned her head and studied the man, from the tousled dark hair to the firm jut of his jaw. His bathing suit was skimpier than those worn by most men she knew, fitting like a glove. Hiding nothing.
Her cheeks grew warm as she stared, imagining what would happen if she had not pulled away from his electrifying kisses.
She couldn’t see herself in a role of femme fatale, but her imagination proved wondrous.
Closing her eyes, she could feel his hands on her back, the long, languorous strokes designed to soothe and inflame.
With little effort he could have turned her onto her back and continued slipping beneath the edge of her suit, stroking. .. her eyes flew open.
Before she could give in to temptation, she jumped to her feet and headed for the cool water, yanking up the straps to her suit, giving herself a firm talking-to.
She swam slowly, feeling the brisk sea cool her overheated body.
Now if it would only cool her overactive imagination, she might make it through the day.
“Cooling off?” Logan asked a few minutes later, joining her beyond the breakers.
Emma swirled around and met his knowing eyes. She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.
“The sun’s getting hot.”
“It’s not the only thing getting hot.”
He swam close, treading water. His legs tangled with hers beneath the surface.
“Logan,” she said, feeling shy at the glint in his eyes.
“I know, I’ve been shot down. I won’t press, cupcake.”
“Cupcake?”
He shrugged and splashed her with water.
“You taste as sweet as a cupcake. I never knew that before. See what a man can learn from a kiss.”
Shyness bloomed. Tongue-tied, she fought for something to say, wishing deep in her heart that he would press, that he would persevere.
“I’m getting hungry. Want to come up to the house for lunch?”
“Did someone do some kind of transplant on you while I was gone? First breakfast, now you want to fix lunch? This isn’t some kind of nesting instinct, is it?” he asked suspiciously.
“Slapping something together between two pieces of bread is hardly cordon bleu cooking, Logan. If you’re worried, I’ll make it peanut butter and jelly.”
He chuckled, staying close, running his hand down her arm and tangling his fingers with hers. Drawing their linked hand up, he kissed her fingers.
“I’m willing to bet you don’t even have PB&J in your house. But I’m not one to say no to a free meal.”
“Second one today,” she reminded him sassily.
“So I’ll treat dinner. Let’s go, it’s got to be close to noon and I’m hungry. Besides, I’ll need the energy to keep going this afternoon.”
He released her hand as they swam leisurely toward the shore.
“You should take a nap,” she said.
“I’ve had two this morning.”
“Not long ones. If you end face down in the guacamole, don’t look to me to clean it off,” she teased, amazed at her own boldness. Of course he didn’t realize they’d just met. Was this how her sister lived? It was fun.
“I’ll remember that.”
“Want to race back?” she asked, maneuvering herself closer to the beach.
“Sure, but no handicap this time.”
Logan reached the sand first and waited to walk out of the water with Emma.
“Now I get the prize,” he said, and kissed her.
Emma almost sank to her knees when he released her.
Ignoring the glint in his eyes, she forced her knees to work as she hurried to the towels.
Shakily, she gathered her things and turned to follow him up the rock steps cut into the bluff.
Her blood tingled. There was no other word to describe the sensation.
All thoughts of avoiding him in the future fled.
Uncertainty aside, she liked the way she felt around him.
“I’ll shower and change and be right over. Keep the peanut butter warm,” he said when they reached the top. Touching her lightly on her nose, he headed for home.
Emma watched as he walked along the path between the cliff and the back of his sprawling stucco house.
She was in big trouble. Never in her life had she become so fascinated, so captivated, by anyone. Watching him walk away, she felt suddenly alone, bereft. For a moment she toyed with the idea of following him, waiting at his house while he showered.
Instant infatuation—and at her age.
Emma trudged up the path to her sister’s house. Logan would be over in a few minutes and her bubbling senses would again boil over. Was this how Lily had felt around Pierre? No wonder she’d said he rang her chimes.