Chapter 2 #2
She patted her stomach. “Nope, I’m good. That was delicious.”
“Thank you.”
She eyed him in surprise. “Did you make it?”
His eyebrow shot up. “Does that surprise you?”
“I’ve yet to meet the mysterious breed of men that cook,” she quipped. “They are as rare as hen’s teeth, I’ve been told.”
He laughed then. “I enjoy cooking. My mother thought I needed to learn the same as my sister.”
“Your mother is a rare gem.”
“Do you cook?”
“I’m a woman, aren’t I?” Her eyebrow slid up.
“I find myself constantly surprised at the number of women who don’t,” he mocked.
“Then it’s a good thing you can, it increases your value as a partner.”
A shadow seemed to flit through his dark eyes before he spoke. “Bring your tea with you, and we’ll get clothes from Holly so you can get a shower,” he ordered gruffly.
He turned and headed for the hallway, and Darcy obediently followed him, feeling like she’d hurt his feelings in some way. “Get a grip, girl,” she muttered to herself.
Logan showed her to the bedroom on the left and opened the door. “This room and Holly’s share a bathroom. You’re welcome to use the shower in the middle; towels are provided in the closet. Or you can use the guest bathroom in the hallway.”
“Thank you,” she murmured as she stood uncomfortably sipping her tea in the middle of the room.
“The pleasure is all mine. I’ll let you get some clothes from Holly while I finish in the kitchen.” He flashed her that blue ribbon smile and left, closing the door quietly behind him.
Darcy looked around as she set her glass on the nightstand by the bed and kicked off the pointy-toed witch shoes. She groaned with pleasure at the release of the pinch on her toes. She dug her toes into the plush carpet and sighed as she looked around.
The room didn’t have any personal effects, and she wondered if Holly were an only child.
It was a guest bedroom decorated in soft browns and neutral tans with a few family photos on the walls and a retro-country style tin pitcher filled with a sunflower bouquet and a happy cow painted on the side.
The knock on the adjoining bathroom door stopped her perusal, and she stood up as the door opened.
Holly’s face peeked around the edge. It was devoid of the heavy makeup, and she looked like a young woman again.
“I have some things that should fit you,” she said with a smile. She held out the bundle of clothing in her hands.
Darcy took it and smiled back. “Thanks, I do appreciate this.”
Holly stood there as if she wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure if she should. Then she spoke tentatively. “He likes you, you know.”
Darcy stared. “He doesn’t even know me.”
Her voice gained confidence. “I know Uncle Logan pretty well...and he likes you,” she replied smugly. I just wanted to warn you in case you start liking him back. Then if you fall for him, you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Thanks for the advice,” she replied dryly.
Quickly, she turned the shower on and stepped into the tub, then closed the curtain as the blissfully hot water washed over her.
Her thoughts turned to Logan and his talk about natural consequences.
She would never admit it out loud, but he did have a point.
She judged Logan to be in his late twenties.
She wondered how such a good-looking man had escaped marriage so far—probably this spanking business.
She didn’t realize that men did that these days—unless they were kinky, of course.
Turning off the shower, she stepped out and dried herself off, brushing back the wet dark hair while a few damp tendrils curled around her neck and temples.
Her deep blue eyes stared back from the mirror, pale and tired, with a hint of puffiness beneath them.
Yuk! She looked like the poster girl for women who haven’t slept since menopause.
She suddenly wished she had someone to snuggle with, someone to hold her for a while. Someone to make her feel safe, protected—maybe even loved. Or at least pretend they did.
Convincingly.
Feeling down, she slipped into the chaste red cotton pajamas with black flowers all over them and padded to the kitchen with the empty glass.
She thought about Doug and his oh-so-valiant refusal to come and get her.
Yeah. No knight in shining armor there. Keeping the apartment had been an act of mistrust, and thank God for that.
You would think she would know better after most of her trust in men had been burned to the ground, stomped on, and salted for good measure.
A wry grimace twisted her soft mouth as she placed the glass in the sink and turned around. She froze when she saw Logan coming through the doorway, his eyes raking her figure from head to foot. Her heart pumped faster.
A flicker of something indistinguishable flashed in his eyes as he slowly approached her. “Well, well...how different you look without all that cake make-up,” he murmured, his hand reaching out to run a finger down her cheek. “Quite beautiful in its normal appearance instead of green.”
Darcy flushed and backed away. He was too close to her personal space. “Ha, little do you know. Beauty is not one of my finer points.”
“I disagree.” His voice was low, steady as he stepped closer, closing the gap again. “I see a lovely young woman—one who shouldn’t be running herself down.”
When uncomfortable, Darcy had a bad habit of hiding behind thorny sarcasm, a trait that many people found obnoxious. Fewer still chose to tread behind the thorns.
“Men are not known for being picky,” she said tartly. “Ever hear the old song... ‘The women all get prettier at closing time?’”
She didn’t miss the tightening of his lips and the scowl etching into his face.
Warning signs that any sensible woman would have noted and backed off from.
Darcy wasn’t in the mood to be pragmatic; she chose to ignore those warning signs, wanting only to keep him at bay.
She wasn’t prepared for the growing interest she was feeling, nor the interest he was displaying in her.
It was making her say outrageous things.
“Stop it,” he ordered brusquely, folding his arms across his chest.
“Why? Does the truth hurt?” She flicked her gaze to her watch, widening her eyes theatrically. “Oh my—time’s ticking. I must be getting totally irresistible by now.”
“I said...enough.” His tone hardened, steel threading through each syllable.
If she had known him a little better, she might have been more cautious.
But, given the circumstances, she plowed nervously on—attempting to keep him at arm's length rather than admit the heat she felt sparking between them. To drown the flame that was licking along her abdomen. Because a man who looked like Logan would never want her in his future, and she’d rather shove him away now than hand him her heart and watch him crush it later.
***
GIVEN HIS OCCUPATION, Logan could read the snarky young woman well enough to know she was hiding behind a bravado as sharp as delicate glass, and just as fragile. Like a stray cat spitting to mask its trembling, he could see the fear flickering beneath the defiant sparkle in her eyes.
“Your room or mine?” She laughed, her lip quirking up in a derisive grin. “Or do you want to just get it on right here on the kitchen floor?”
Her chin lifted in a mock challenge, but her body betrayed her—shoulders tight, breath quick, pupils dilating—all mouth and no follow-through.
“You don’t listen well, do you?” His voice was calm, deliberate. When he closed his hand around her arm and marched her toward the hall, she gasped—soft and startled.
“W-where are we going? Let go of me.”
That flicker of uncertainty—the way her pupils widened—was a symptom of someone testing their limits and writing checks their courage wouldn’t be able to cash. He was right in his assessment: all mouthy bluster and no follow-through.
“I’m taking you to your room,” he replied in an even tone, his insistent pressure guiding her down the hallway. His other hand slid to her hip, steady and unyielding.
“B-but,” she stuttered. The kitten-squeak was genuine, her brain scrambling for a way to stop him without surrendering the facade.
“I-I didn’t mean it,” she protested, digging her heels in.
Her breath was coming faster now, her pulse beating hard enough for him to feel it through his grip. She tried to shake his hand off her arm and pull away.
“You should never say things you don’t mean,” he chided firmly, opening the bedroom door and guiding her inside. “Someone might take you up on them one day.”
She looked small in the soft lamplight, but her gaze was still darting for escape routes as he drew her towards the bed. His voice was firm but not unkind. “When I say enough, that means enough, Darcy. Keep that in mind in the future.”
“W-what are you going to do?” Her voice quivered as he sat down on the bed and pulled her between his knees.
“Something you’ll remember next time you think mouthing off is a good idea.
Acting like a fractious child earns you a child’s punishment.
I’m going to give you a spanking and put you to bed.
You can spend the rest of the evening thinking about your choices.
.. instead of cocoa and cards, like I’d planned. It’s getting late anyway.”
Pulling her across his left knee, Logan swiftly pushed down the pajama bottoms Holly had supplied and admired the outline of Darcy’s wiggling cheeks in the daring bikini underwear.
Desire shot straight to his loins and distracted him.
Pulling the panties up between her cheeks, his fingers trembled slightly as he ran his palm across their warm, satiny softness.
“No...please...I’m sorry,” Darcy pleaded, trying to put her hand back. “I’m so sore already, please don’t, Logan.”
Logan noted some deep red spots here and there, intermixed with a few small welts from his hand earlier. She probably was sore. Still...she needed to understand where he was coming from.
His voice was stern this time. “I don’t know why you choose to disparage yourself in this manner, but it won’t fly with me, Darcy.
” He tipped her slightly forward and landed six spanks on the undercurve of her bottom cheeks, three on each side.
On bare skin and in such a sensitive spot, that brought the tears.
“I-I’m sorry, it’s just a habit,” Darcy squealed with a breathy sob.
He pulled her upright and sat her on his knee, unable to bring himself to spank her anymore. He’d made his point anyway—and she’d apologized sincerely. The tears were trickling down her face, making her look defeated and forlorn. His thumb gently brushed away a tear.
“Why, sweetheart?” His voice was soft, concerned.
She shrugged her shoulders and dropped her gaze to her hands in her lap. “A defensive mechanism when I get uncomfortable. It just sort of...happens.”
He chuckled. “So, you know what you’re doing.”
Her eyes shot defiantly back to his. “It works. People usually leave me alone and don’t pester me for answers or explanations that I don’t want to give.”
His eyebrow shot up. “I didn’t realize I was pestering you for anything. As I remember, I was complimenting you on your natural beauty.”
A blush oozed up her throat and into her face. “I’m not beautiful,” she protested.
“Ah, you don’t like compliments; they make you uncomfortable.” Expressive, distrustful eyes stared back at him, then slid away to stare at the wall. She’d been hurt before.
Finally, she huffed. “Good guess. Read a lot of psycho-babble, do you?”
“I am a therapist, if that’s what you mean.”
The expression on her face as she whipped towards him could only be categorized as shock with a side of homicidal terror thrown in.
She jumped to her feet and pointed towards the door, her finger shaking like a leaf on a tree.
The wild eyes of a cornered animal stared back at him as she demanded, “Get out.”
Puzzled, he stood up. “What’s wrong, Darcy?”
“You are what’s wrong,” she bit out between clenched teeth. “You and all your kind. Now, get out, or I’ll steal some clothes from Holly and start walking.”
She was shaking, her entire frame stiff and indignant. Logan tried to take her hand, but she backed away like he was a rabid dog. “Don’t touch me.”
His shrewd mind racing, he asked, “Is this Doug a therapist?”
“No,” she snapped.
“But you’ve dated or known someone who was,” he supplied intuitively.
Darcy bristled, the distrust shining clearly in her eyes. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” She mocked. “You ‘mindjerks’ always have all the answers. Just leave me alone and get out.” Her voice broke, and she turned her back on him.
Making a decision, Logan finally spoke. “All right, Darcy, but this isn’t over. I can see you’re tired and upset, so I’ll let you get some rest. We’ll talk in the morning.” The reply was muffled, but he could understand it.
“No, we won’t.”
He walked to the door and then hesitated. “I’m sorry you’re hurting, sweetheart, but don’t lump me in with whoever caused it. I like you...I like you a lot. I want to get to know you better.”
The desire to gather her into his arms was overwhelming.
He wanted to hold her close and protect her from those who would take advantage of her.
Her forlorn figure, standing so alone with her arms wrapped around her middle and the keep off sign sending its signal, tore at his heartstrings.
The dominant in him wanted to find whoever it was that hurt her and strangle him.
It also made him want to be more forceful with her and find out who it was, but he knew her mind wasn’t in the right frame for that right now.
He needed to be patient, give her this space, and pick it up later.
He needed to earn her trust.
Goodnight, Darcy,” he said tenderly. “I’ll get you safely home in the morning, I promise.”
Her muffled reply was indiscernible this time.
Troubled, he slipped out the door to make sure the house was locked up before retiring to his room.
Darcy DeAngelo was knocking on his heart for admittance without even realizing it.
How could one beautiful, prickly, little bundle of a female have such an immediate and diverse effect on him?