Chapter Eleven #2
The two glasses of wine made her feel warm and mellow. Logan’s presence notched up the temperature. She quickly stacked the dishes in the sink as the thought of a moonlit walk along the beach hummed through her.
“Do you think I need something for my arms?” she asked when ready.
“No. The wind’s died down and it’s still warm out.”
He took her hand casually as she passed through the door, lacing his fingers through hers.
Slowly they walked to the cliff and down the rock stairs.
The soft crash of surf provided a gentle background to the waning twilight.
The sunset had been spectacular, the sky still showed a hint of lingering color.
High over the bluff the full moon shone, its light growing brighter as the sky darkened.
Emma kicked off her sandals when she reached the bottom, noting Logan had slipped off his shoes.
The sand held the day’s warmth as they walked toward the water.
It grew damp and firm close to the water’s edge.
Logan headed south. The surging and retreating surf sprayed mists that hovered, cool in the gentle stirring of the evening air.
“I love the beach,” Emma said, breathing deeply. “If I could, I’d live—”
Stopping instantly when she realized where her thoughts were leading, she glanced up at Logan. Had he noticed?
“Live here and never travel?” Logan asked.
“Right.”
“I thought you enjoyed staying in France several months a year. You said last summer that there was no city like Paris,” Logan said.
He kept an eye on the waves, making sure to keep away from the grasping reaches of the spent breakers.
“That’s certainly true,” Emma hedged.
Her best bet was to keep her mouth shut.
And that wouldn’t be hard. Joy built as they walked silently along the deserted beach.
The sky was crowded with faint stars, overwhelmed with the bright shining moon.
It lacked only a day or two to fullness, its light coating everything with a silvery radiance.
“I feel like it’s magic,” she said softly. “Maybe I’m Cinderella.”
Logan spun her around in front of him.
“Cinderella needs a ball. May I have the honor of this dance, my lady?”
He bowed slightly, then released her hand to take her into his arms.
“Know any good slow tunes?” he asked whimsically, swaying without moving his feet.
Emma laughed softly, extremely conscious of his warm hand against the bare skin revealed by the low back of her dress. Her breasts pressed lightly against his chest, tingling and filling. She yearned for a closer contact, but couldn’t possibly initiate one.
“No songs come to mind. What do you suggest?”
Humming a familiar tune, Logan moved in time to the melody, dancing in and out of the spent waves, on the hard-packed sand.
Up and down the beach, around and around they danced.
Emma let her head fall back as she gazed at the velvet sky speckled with glittering stars.
Logan’s voice and the sound of the sea mingled to provide a melody she’d never forget.
It was magic and she became enchanted. Dancing in the strong arms of the most handsome man she’d ever seen, the two of them in a world of their own at the edge of the earth—nothing beyond but sky and sea and endless eternity. This was bliss.
Savoring every second, she knew she’d never felt so free or joyful, never so light and graceful. This was what she missed with David. This was the intangible something she felt as if she had been missing all her life. Glorious.
She’d never enjoyed herself so much, or felt so alive. Every nerve ending tingled with sensuous awareness for the man who held her. When her legs brushed his, she shivered. His hand never let her stray more than a few inches. Her own inclination kept her close.
“Happy?” Logan asked softly, indulgently, when the song came to an end.
“Yes. I’ve never danced in the moonlight by the edge of the sea. Maybe I’ll include it in my things to do from now on.”
Almost giddy with delight, Emma twirled around, and danced a few steps on her own. She wanted to embrace everything, hold it all close to her heart for all time. Stopping, she grinned at Logan.
“Do you think I’m totally nuts?”
He shook his head.
“What I think is that I’ve known you for two years and never had a clue about the real you. Which is the true Lily Rambeau? Rich and sassy jet-setter or a woman who likes simple pleasures like a walk on the beach?”
“Can’t I be both?” she asked, keeping her distance as the magic faded and reality returned. She didn’t want him to look too closely. Would he discover the fraud? She wasn’t her sister and it obviously showed.
But she didn’t care. Not for tonight. A spell captured her, held her in thrall as she reveled in the mystery of the evening. Time enough for reality when they returned to the real world. This fantasy would only last a bit longer. Maybe by midnight, the spell would end and she’d be herself again.
“A person isn’t only one thing. Not a jet-setter or a dutiful daughter. She can offer a different facets on different days, do things in the moonlight with abandon that might not be possible by daylight. Don’t you think?” she asked.
“Like being an enchanted princess dancing on the edge of the world?”
“Exactly—that’s what I feel like right now. Isn’t it wonderful?”
Emma laughed from sheer joy and spun around like a ballerina. Her arms out, her head flung back to the sky, she spun around and around, faster and faster, feeling almost as if she could fly.
Until she tripped over a sharp shell and fell flat on her back.
The frothy, foaming water reached up the beach with gleeful success and soaked her from head to toe.
“Oh, no.” Emma scrambled up before Logan could reach her, but the damage had been done.
“Are you all right?”
Reaching out, he grabbed her arms, studying her in the moonlight.
“Sure, if you like drowned cats. I stepped on a shell or something.”
She lifted her foot to see if she’d cut it. Logan knelt in the wet sand and took her foot in his warm hand. Running his thumb across the bottom, he looked up. Water wet his trousers, swirled around her ankles.
“No cuts. Can you walk?”
“Of course.”
She put weight on it. A small twinge was the only residue. Smiling shakily, she stepped back, water dripping from her hair onto her shoulders. The evening air that had seemed so warm, now chilled. She shivered.
“Come on, you need to get inside and into something warm.”
Logan took her hand again and they started back.
Walking briskly for speed and warmth, Emma couldn’t help berating herself for her clumsiness. Her perfect evening was ruined. She’d been having such a wonderful time. She would be willing to bet lunch that her sister had never fallen in the water when out with a man she was trying to impress.
Trying to impress?
Well, of course, she was. Dynamic and entertaining as Logan was, she was fascinated with him.
Thrilled he had spent the evening with her.
Embarrassed, heat rose to her cheeks, providing warmth of the wrong kind.
She wanted to run to the house and hide.
Try to forget her lack of sophistication.
Nothing to do but brazen it out at least until she reached the house.
Logan snatched up their shoes when they reached the stone steps. “Can you manage in bare feet?” he asked.
“Sure, the steps are smooth and the grass is soft,” she said, stepping on the first one. Truth to tell, she didn’t want the delay of putting on shoes. She wanted to get inside, close the door behind her and block this from her memory.
When they reached the patio, light spilled from the windows, illuminating the flagstone with a soft radiance. Emma stopped just out of the light’s beams and turned to Logan.
“I can manage from here. Sorry to end the evening so soon. I’m glad you came for dinner.”
He offered her the sandals, and Emma hooked them over her finger.
Tilting her head, he looked into her eyes.
“I had a wonderful evening. Your dinner was delicious, but I enjoyed the company more.”
Until your hostess fell in the water , Emma wanted to scream. It wasn’t fair—she had wanted one perfect evening.
Logan leaned closer and kissed her. His lips were warm against her cool mouth, and moved with coaxing intensity. Slowly, so slowly she didn’t even realize at first what he was doing, he pulled her into his arms, wet hair, soaking dress and all.
His pressed until she gave in to the persuasion and opened her mouth slightly. There was no quick move. Slowly Logan touched the soft inner lip, rubbed against her teeth, then slipped in to deepen the kiss.
His hands pressed her against him as his fingertips massaged her cool skin, rubbing from shoulder to bottom.
Heat trailed his touch and desire blossomed.
When one arm moved around her ribs, skimming over her wet dress, Emma gave way to the growing craving and reached up to encircle his neck, sandals dropping unheeded onto the flagstone.
She pressed a bit closer, reveling in the myriad sensations that clamored for attention. Warmth filled her chilled body, excitement replaced embarrassment, desire flared and staggered her. His hands felt hot against the damp fabric, matching the flame building inside.
Logan trailed kisses on her cheeks, her jaw, the pulse point at her throat, slowly making his way up her neck to find her lips again. His hands caressed until he pulled back a bit and cupped one breast.
Emma shivered and broke away, stunned at the reaction of her body.
She hardly knew this man, had never thrown caution to the wind in this manner.
Though for a few moments she almost demanded he come inside with her and stay the night.
A few heated kisses couldn’t have her changing the precepts of a lifetime.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered, then turned and ran into the house.
Without pausing, she went up the stairs and into her sister’s room.
Closing the door, she hurried to the bathroom and shut that door, leaning against it as if holding it against a predator.
There was no sound save her own harsh breathing. Slowly she flicked on the light.