Simply Scandalous Read online

  “And I’m here listening.”

  “You said at the party you wanted to make Catherine’s dreams come true. And before you ask how I know, I accidentally left the intercom on by the pool house where the bar was located,” she said, unable to meet his gaze.

  He blinked hard. “You’re telling me you sat in the house and listened?” he asked, buying himself time to swallow his anger.

  “Yes,” she admitted with embarrassment and shame in her tone.

  Emma wasn’t malicious nor did she ever mean any harm. But the knowledge didn’t help right now. He closed his eyes and counted to ten, attempting to control his frustration. The penalty for murder in this state wasn’t pretty and even though this could be considered justifiable homicide, the jury might take exception to the fact that he’d strangled his eighty-year-old grandmother.

  “I only needed to know if I chose right,” she said, by way of explanation. “If you two hit it off. Heaven knows you’d never tell me the truth.”

  “Only because you react…like this.” He balled his hands into tight fists. The thought of her invading his and Catherine’s privacy had him seeing red. “You might mean well, but you passed the bounds of common decency this time.”

  “Actually, I know that and I’m sorry.” She bowed her head. “But that heart attack scared me to death. Well, not literally, thank goodness, but it meant I had to see you settled down and happy before I passed on. Went to the great beyond. Well, you know what I mean.”

  He did. And he understood. Her heart attack had taken years off his life as well. And the reason he let her get away with so much interfering was because he loved her and was grateful she was still around to meddle in his life.

  But she couldn’t go to these extremes, not when Catherine was involved. “I already told you I won’t use Cat in any scheme to stop the judge. You should be ashamed of yourself. You claim to like this woman and you set her up, plan to use her…”

  Emma rose to her feet, indignation in her posture and the determined look on her face. “I did no such thing.”

  “Sit down, Gran.”

  She lowered herself back into the booth.

  “Well, I set her up with you, if that’s what you mean. But you should be grateful. As for using her, can I help it if her background will infuriate your father and thwart his mayoral plans? But that has nothing to do with why I brought you to the party. I wanted you to meet her. Period.”

  “And if we didn’t hit it off?”

  “I’d have backed off,” she said, with the utmost sincerity.

  Logan ran a hand through his hair. If the past two days of work hadn’t been enough, he now had this to contend with. “Then do it. Now.” He imposed as much authority into his tone as possible without being disrespectful to the woman he loved.

  She patted his hand, much as she’d done when he was a child. Through the years, the gesture had been oddly comforting. But now it made him wary and her next words proved his instincts were on target.

  “There’s just one more tiny little thing.”

  “IT’S ROMANTIC, CAT.” Kayla beamed and it wasn’t just the glow of pregnancy lighting her features.

  Catherine knew her sister was thrilled by Logan’s daily gifts. No more than she was herself. She stared down at the three gifts laid out on the bed, finding herself at an uncustomary loss for words. Logan did that to her, she thought, warmth spreading through her.

  She shook her head. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You wanted sincerity. Looks like he’s given it to you.”

  Catherine nodded. A different box had arrived every day. A box of fairy dust on Tuesday. The card read; To Make Your Dreams Come True.

  On Wednesday a snow globe. To an outside observer, the gift held little meaning. But the scene inside depicted canoeing on the Charles River—and a gentle shake showered the boats in falling snow. Snow in the summer time. And she remembered the words on the card: Miracles Do Happen.

  He was her miracle and she was enveloped by the aching desire to feel his arms around her. Oh, he was good. The right gifts, the right words. A subtle, mental seduction, she thought. Did a man go to those lengths for one more night of sex?

  Making love, her heart said. And that’s where they were headed if she went with him tonight. The third gift that arrived this morning was proof of that. A CD. The jazz music from the night they spent in each other’s arms and another note: Until We Can Be Together Again.

  She fingered the smooth plastic disc holder and a different desire kicked in this time. The need to have this music, their music, filling her ears at the same time he filled her body. A shot of desire rocked her hard, and she wrapped her arms around her stomach to stop the trembling.

  “Cat? Cat? Are you okay?”

  “What?” Her sister came into focus. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine.”

  “Where did you disappear to?”

  “I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to think. These gifts are…”

  “Sweet? Thoughtful? Stop trying to put a word on it and go with what you feel.”

  Catherine laughed. “I remember telling you to do just that before your first date with Kane.”

  Kayla grinned. “And look where it got me.” She spread her hands across her large stomach.

  “If you’re trying to scare me, you’re doing a good job.” But she couldn’t deny the thought of being Logan’s wife, having his babies, held a strange appeal considering the short time in which they’d known each other.

  She shouldn’t rush things. He wanted another night. Never had the long-term future been mentioned.

  “Oh, come on,” her sister said. “Tell me you don’t want this.” She spread her arms out in a broad sweep. “The husband, the love, the security…the house, the kids…”

  “The dog and the white picket fence? Get real, Kayla. This is me we’re talking about, not you. I don’t inspire a man to thoughts of permanence.” Of course, she’d never considered a future with any of the men she’d met, either, until now.

  “Oh, and you think I did? Before Kane, what did I ever get out of a guy except it’s been fun, see you around sometime? Why don’t you believe that one person exists who was meant for you? That you deserve it all?” Kayla asked, pure frustration in her voice.

  “Because I’m not an incurable romantic like you. And even if I was, we’re talking about Logan Montgomery here. You didn’t see that house. I’m sorry, that mansion. The coat closet was bigger than our room growing up.”

  “So? You said his house was your dream cottage. And before you start in, I have an answer for every argument you can throw out.”

  “Except this one. Can you see me as the mayor’s wife?” Catherine stood and gestured to her outfit, the clothes she’d picked up from her apartment the other day. With a black T-shirt, white jeans and leopard-print sandals on her feet, she wasn’t exactly the demure type.

  “I can see you as the mayor’s unique wife, yes. I can also see you adapting. But as I recall, Logan denied the rumors. Cat, he’s pursuing you. He’s obviously not concerned about these things. Why are you? The past is behind us. You’re more than worthy of him…unless you’re looking for an excuse to steer clear,” Kayla guessed with dead-on accuracy.

  “Would you please have this baby already so you’ll have something else to worry about besides me?” Catherine muttered.

  “I could have ten kids and I’d still worry about you.”

  “I know.” Tears filled her eyes. Without Kayla she’d have no one.

  She told herself she wasn’t foolish enough to believe Logan was in it for the long haul. She glanced at his thoughtful, sentimental gifts. No matter how much her heart disagreed.

  CHAPTER NINE

  CATHERINE DIDN’T HAVE to wonder what she wanted from Logan. He’d made certain of that.

  She wanted him.

  Every gift, with every note, had led her to that conclusion. When all her thoughts were consumed with him, what else could she possibly desire? She shook t
he globe and watched the snow shimmer and fall on the summertime scene.

  And after listening to the low strains of the jazz CD all afternoon, her heart throbbed in time to its beat, and her body yearned for his touch. She was beginning to believe he was right and that they had a chance.

  He hadn’t called. No doubt that, too, was calculated to heighten her sense of anticipation. It worked. By the time the doorbell rang, Catherine didn’t care about backgrounds, class, money…or anything except being with him again. Because not only had he seduced her, but he’d also chipped away at the wall she’d erected to keep him at arm’s length. He’d reached her heart—from a distance, at that. Heaven help her, now that he was here.

  Kane beat her to the door. Greetings bought her time to calm her raging nerves. By the time she made her way downstairs, the two men were deep in conversation. They’d probably discovered they had the law in common, even if Logan did work to spring the men Kane put behind bars. Good thing they worked in separate jurisdictions, Catherine thought wryly.

  She caught sight of him the second her feet hit the floor of the small entryway. She took in his tight jeans, navy-and-white striped shirt pulled taut over his broad shoulders, day-old razor stubble and nearly lost it right then. His penetrating gaze met hers, deep and knowing. He looked at her as if he could read minds, as if he knew her most secret desire.

  He held her gaze and winked. Catherine drew a deep, shuddering breath. Because she saw it in his eyes. His feelings mirrored her own.

  Although he continued to talk to Kane, Logan held one hand out toward her. No sooner had she come within touching distance, than he snagged her hand and linked their arms together, drawing her close. His skin was warm, his touch possessive and welcoming. She thought she’d calmed the flutters in her stomach but they returned full force.

  She’d never had a father to greet her dates and she felt twice as ridiculous now, at the thought of making small talk with Logan and Kane. She cleared her throat. “So. I see you two have met.”

  Kane nodded. Logan opened his mouth to speak.

  “But we haven’t.” Kayla’s voice sounded from the top of the stairs and cut him off.

  “You’re supposed to be in bed,” Kane growled, but Catherine heard the affection laced with concern in his tone.

  “And I suppose one of you was going to bring Mr. Montgomery up to meet me?” Kayla asked, knowing neither she nor Kane would have done any such thing.

  “It’s Logan. And it’s nice to meet you, Kayla.” Logan grinned. He couldn’t mistake the resemblance between the sisters despite Kayla’s obviously fuller and very pregnant form.

  “And now you can get back in bed,” Kane ordered. He turned to Logan. “Doctor’s orders,” he explained.

  “No, your orders. You know darn well he said it’s safe for the baby to come any day and I can move to restricted activity.”

  Kane held out his hand and Logan shook it. “Nice to meet you, Montgomery. I’m going to carry my wife back to bed.”

  “I’d like to see you try,” Kayla called back.

  Catherine’s laughter sounded in Logan’s ear, as sexy and arousing as he’d remembered. Obviously she was used to this byplay. Logan wasn’t. Not once had he seen his parents so obviously happy together.

  But he had that chance. Thanks to Catherine, they had that chance—to see where this thing between them led.

  Before Kane hit the top step, he called out, “Montgomery.”

  Logan glanced up.

  “Hurt my sister-in-law and you answer to me.” Seconds later, Kane had swept his very pregnant wife off her feet and into his arms. As they disappeared down the hall, a door slammed shut behind them.

  Logan understood Kane’s warning. He accepted it without malice. But he doubted Catherine would appreciate her brother-in-law’s interference. Yet when he met her gaze, instead of anger, he saw wonder and disbelief.

  “I thought he put up with me for Kayla’s sake,” she murmured in answer to his unspoken question.

  Her reaction hit him in the gut. Had she always felt so alone? He knew the answer because he often felt the same. One more thing they had in common. One more thing he wanted to change in her life.

  Without thinking, he pulled her into his arms. “There you go again, selling yourself short. I won’t have it, Cat.”

  “What will you have, Logan?” Her eyes glittered with pleasure.

  Pleasure he wanted to increase. “You.” His hands moved and cupped her waist. Because her ruffled shirt ended at the waistband of her fitted black pants, his hands gripped bare skin. Logan let out a slow groan.

  She sucked in an answering breath before meeting his gaze. “Say that again.”

  He glanced into her green eyes and recognized her need to be reassured. Their week apart had worried him and he saw now he’d been right to be concerned. He curled a strand of her hair around his finger and tugged lightly. “I want you, Cat. All of you.”

  She sighed softly. The sound went straight to his groin, stopping first to wrap itself around his heart. She surprised him by moving closer. Their lower bodies collided and a shaft of white heat shot through him, hard and fast. No way could she mistake his body’s reaction.

  He glanced at her, expecting to see remnants of self-doubt in her gaze. He saw only clear certainty. Unabashed desire.

  For him.

  He’d never been more relieved. When Emma had informed him she’d sent Catherine a gift…fairy dust, of all things, he’d nearly had a coronary. Of all the corny, harebrained schemes, with this one, Emma had outdone herself. But as she’d informed him, he could spend his time yelling or pick up the ball she’d dropped and run with it.

  He still wasn’t taking his grandmother’s calls and was barely speaking to her, but he’d chosen to run with it. Once his eighty-year-old spitfire interfered, what else could he do?

  Catherine wasn’t one for expensive gifts or flowers. She wasn’t impressed with money or material things. Honesty had reached her once before, during the closet episode. He hadn’t forgotten that.

  When he’d left her at her sister’s she’d been wary and skittish. If he wanted to reach her again, he had to sway her mind first. Her body he had no trouble with, he thought wryly. So, taking quick breaks from work, he’d come up with the other two gifts, choosing to let his words speak for him.

  Apparently he’d been on target, he thought as her hands pulled his shirt out of his jeans and her palms splayed against his back.

  “I think we ought to move this someplace else,” he said and she nodded.

  Heartened, he asked, “Are you ready to let yourself believe in possibilities?” Because he didn’t want just another night with regrets in the morning.

  The week without her had been hell. And if this thing between them had happened fast, he was willing to let it take the lead. He’d had too many other weak imitations of what he and Catherine shared not to recognize its potential.

  But she had to be open to the future, too. He couldn’t pursue this alone. He held her and waited.

  “I believe in you,” she admitted, her heart in her eyes.

  He’d be a fool not to know what the admission cost her. And it deserved one from him in return. “I was thinking we could go home.”

  She tilted her head back to meet his gaze. He kissed each eyelid and then her upturned nose. “My home,” he added. “And there’s something I want you to know. You’re the only woman I’ve ever brought there, Cat.”

  Before she could answer, he brushed a kiss over her soft lips. He meant to reassure, but the fire flared fast and without warning. Breaking contact wasn’t easy but he managed.

  She let out a shaky laugh. “You do have a way with words, Mr. Montgomery.”

  “I do, don’t I?” he said with grin. “Now let’s go home.”

  THE COTTAGE LOOMED in the distance, as warm and welcoming as she’d remembered it. Logan pulled in front of the small house and cut the engine. With the sun setting behind them, Catherine followed him i
nside. Desire throbbed inside her as fast as her rapidly beating heart. But the one thing she was aware of was a sense of belonging.

  Deprived and lost were the only words Catherine could think of to describe how she’d felt the week without Logan. She’d known him one day. It felt like a lifetime, maybe because he’d used that week wisely, to build faith. Trust. Longing.

  The minute the door to the cottage slammed closed behind him, all those feelings came rushing to the surface. She wasn’t sure who turned first, who reached for whom first. It didn’t matter because his arms were around her and his mouth came down hard on hers. She welcomed the firmness of his lips and the sweeping thrusts of his tongue because she’d been deprived for too long.

  She ran her fingers through his hair, holding his head, silently pleading with him not to stop. Not to leave her. He groaned and pulled her closer, aligning their bodies so she could feel him, hard and full, throbbing against her. Liquid heat pooled inside her and trickled between her legs.

  She whimpered and he moved his hand and cupped her intimately, knowing and anticipating her need. “Logan.” Somehow, she found the strength to separate their lips.

  With an agonized groan, he met her gaze. But he didn’t move his hand and his thumb rubbed in lazy circles over the soft denim covering her, until her breath came in shallow gasps and the dampness increased.

  “What is it, Cat? Tell me what you want.”

  She wanted the ache to ease. The throbbing to stop. And she never wanted it to end.

  She wanted him.

  She tipped her head back and realized she was braced against the wall, her legs bracketed between his strong thighs. He stared back at her with a heavy-lidded gaze. “Talk to me,” he murmured.

  But one of his fingers was tracing her moist lips and the sensation was both sensual and hypnotic. Clearing her mind wasn’t easy. She wasn’t even sure why she needed to, but it had to do with explanations and what he thought of her. “I don’t…I mean I’m not usually so…” Her voice trailed off as his wet finger moved from her lips to her jaw, to her collarbone, settling finally in the soft V of her top, enfolded in layers of ruffles.