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  His gaze never left hers and that same finger pushed down on the elastic, exposing her breast to his heated gaze. Her stomach muscles contracted with need and her nipples tightened at the first rush of cool air.

  He sucked in a ragged breath that matched one of her own. “It’s never been like this for me, either,” he muttered.

  Was that what she’d been about to say? She wasn’t sure and it didn’t matter. Not when he was right. When everything was so right.

  And that was the problem. Nothing had ever felt so good, so perfect…so meant to be. How was that possible? Life didn’t work that way. It didn’t give something so wonderful, not without taking away in return.

  “Don’t think, Cat. Not now.” He cupped her chin in his hand and tilted her head for a gentle kiss. A hard demanding one would have been more welcome. She could have handled want. Sweetness and understanding might be her undoing.

  After her lifelong protests, and years of disbelief, she felt herself being swept away, succumbing to the fantasy. The one she’d buried and the one he wove. The happily ever after one. She shivered in outright fear.

  He grabbed her shoulders for support. “We’ll talk all you want. Later.”

  After he’d bonded them together again, Logan thought. After he’d reminded her of how good they could be—if only she’d let herself believe.

  Her sigh was one of acceptance. He knew because she leaned toward him, not away. Because her hips bucked against his painful erection. And because she leaned forward and whispered, “Yes,” in his ear.

  Only then did he let himself look down at her full breast filling his hand. “You’re not wearing a bra,” he muttered. Her breast, heavy and hot filled his palm.

  A warm flush rose to her cheeks. “It’s not like you can see anything through the ruffles.”

  He grinned. “But I’ve gotten way past the ruffles.” He brushed his thumb over one tight peak and felt the pull straight down to his own groin. He dipped his head for a taste.

  Her unique scent filled him as he pulled the tight bud into his mouth. He flicked and teased with his tongue, then his teeth, until her hips rocked so insistently against him, he was in danger of losing control. Beyond thought or reason, he reached for her snap and somehow he remembered to grab for protection. Then between the two of them, her pants hit the floor, then his, and their underwear followed.

  He turned and grabbed for her once more. He lifted her. “Wrap your legs around me, sweetheart.” She did and as he lowered her onto his waiting erection, her body took him deep inside.

  He’d known she was wet and hot, but the glide into her slick heat was as easy as it was sweet. A muffled sound broke through his ecstasy. He opened his eyes in time to catch a lone tear drip down her cheek. He recoiled immediately and tried to back off. “I’m hurting you.”

  She shook her head. “Not the way you mean,” she whispered. “It’s a good hurt.”

  The constricting in his chest eased. Her legs grasped him tighter and her wet muscles contracted around him. He let out a groan. “Baby, I know what you mean.”

  He met her gaze, grateful to see her smiling this time. Leaning forward, he licked the salty tear off her cheek. The motion had the effect of grinding their lower bodies together. The wave crested and eased. Her soft sigh told him she’d felt it, too.

  “Logan?”

  “Hmm?” he asked through clenched teeth.

  “Any slower and I might have to strangle you.”

  “You have to admit, it’s a helluva way to go.”

  She yanked back on his hair and he grinned.

  “Easy, babe.” But despite his soothing words, his body was hammering for release. And she’d just given him the okay.

  What came next defied anything in his experience. He’d meant to move but she beat him to it, and what he’d expected to be an in and out satisfying of their bodies, turned into a rocking, twisting motion that had the effect of drawing him into her, body, heart and soul. The tempo increased and she bucked and undulated against him, and he against her until the swaying and twisting had his body reaching…cresting…peaking on a wave of something so strong, so deep, everything inside him was swept away.

  WHEN HAD SHE FALLEN ASLEEP? Catherine blinked into the sunshine streaming through the open blinds. She stretched and felt the protest in muscles she’d overused last night. It felt decadent to wake up in Logan’s bed after the endless hours they’d passed here. It felt even better to be entangled in his arms. He’d tossed one leg over hers, as if to lock her in place. She laughed. It wasn’t as if she was going anywhere, she thought. Not until noon when she had to head home and get ready for the party Pot Luck was supplying the decorations for tomorrow. As parties went, this one was simple because it just required setup.

  “Something funny?” Logan asked.

  “You’re up.”

  He grasped her hand and edged it downward. “In more ways than one.”

  His deep voice wrapped around her. “You’re bad,” she murmured.

  “And you love it.” In one smooth motion, he rolled over her, bracing his weight on both hands.

  She loved…Oh, no. No way. Not so soon. Not now. Not this man. She scrambled to get away, but his lower body held her fast. And the more she squirmed the more their bodies connected. The more his solid erection pressed tight against her. Hot, pulsing, liquid heat spread through her.

  “Stop squirming, Cat.” His voice was deadly serious. “Now before something happens you obviously don’t want, why don’t you tell me what has you spooked?”

  She stopped, then shook her head. She may have bared her body to this man but no way would she bare her soul. She couldn’t give him that kind of power over her.

  “Okay, how about I tell you what has me spooked. You can go next.”

  “Sounds fair.” And it would give her time to regain her equilibrium and come up with something else to tell him. Anything was better than the truth.

  What a joke. Catherine Luck, daughter of a supermarket clerk and a man she didn’t even remember, in love with Logan Montgomery, son of the most powerful judge and family in the state. If she wasn’t careful, the hysterical laughter she felt bubbling to the surface would turn into buckets of tears. And Catherine never cried. Not since the Christmas she’d realized Santa was a fraud and her father was never coming back.

  “Look at me.”

  She forced herself to gaze into his handsome face. The only way to conquer her fears was to overcome them. She’d done it before, she could do it now. The smile she faked was more difficult. “Okay, you go first.”

  “You’re running from me. No matter how deep I dig, no matter how honest I am, or how much of me I reveal, you run the other way.”

  She couldn’t deny it. Not only did he open up verbally, but he didn’t hold back when they made love, either. Catherine had limited experience. But even if her sexual past was uneventful, she was smart enough not to think that an earth-shattering experience between the sheets had any meaning outside the bedroom. Her mother had done that. Head over heels in love with a man who wanted her in bed and no place else.

  She shook her head. That wouldn’t be her fate.

  “I’m not running from you, Logan. I’m…” She thought of everything she could say and opted for the truth. “I’m running from the result.”

  He rolled to his side. “Back to that again, are we? The differences? The idea that we won’t last?”

  She couldn’t deny that, either. “Yes.”

  “Okay, we’ll play it your way. One day at a time. It works, it works. It doesn’t, it doesn’t. That make you feel any better?”

  His compelling eyes stared into hers.

  “No,” she admitted.

  “Good.” He treated her to a heart-stopping grin. “That tells me you care.”

  “I do,” she said softly.

  His gaze softened. “There’s something to be said for that honesty of yours.”

  “And any man who can send the gifts you did deserves
at least that in return. You care about my dreams, Logan.” And it may not last forever, but it certainly touched her heart, Catherine thought.

  His gaze darted away from hers. She couldn’t read his expression but he was uncomfortable and that wasn’t like him. “What is it?”

  “I do care about your dreams. Don’t ever think I don’t. But…”

  “But?”

  He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. “Hell, do you think a guy would send you fairy dust?” he muttered.

  “You didn’t?”

  He shook his head and she felt her heart squeeze tighter. “The globe—the snow in the summer?” she asked.

  “That was me. So was the music. And the notes that came with both.”

  The constricting pain in her chest loosened. “But the fairy dust?”

  He rolled his eyes, then covered them with one arm. “Emma,” he muttered. “And if you have any sympathy for me, you won’t ask how she knew us so well.”

  Catherine nodded. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know that herself. “So she wants us together?” she asked.

  “It would seem so.”

  That was a piece of this puzzle that hadn’t made sense to her from the beginning. Why would Emma Montgomery, no matter how eccentric or outlandish, seek out a woman like Catherine for her beloved grandson?

  Catherine had done well for herself. She didn’t deny that; in fact, she was proud of all she’d accomplished. But she knew good and well where she came from. And she certainly knew her family wasn’t the type to gain points with the illustrious Montgomerys. Forgetting that she came from the wrong side of the tracks, she knew only too well that the recent past hadn’t been kind to the Luck family, either.

  Not only had her aunt married a man with mob ties, but he’d dabbled in prostitution. To make matters worse, they’d been killed and left their charm school—a front for her uncle’s prostitution ring—to Kayla and Catherine. And the entire sordid story had played out on the front page of the papers. There was no way anyone who lived in the state of Massachusetts and was breathing at the time would have missed the juicy tidbits in the news.

  Logan hadn’t mentioned it, but maybe he was just being the gentleman he’d been raised to be. And as long as he didn’t see fit to mention it, she didn’t plan on discussing that bit of family humiliation, either.

  “I don’t get it,” she said aloud.

  He ran his hands through her hair. As always, the light tug on her scalp sent her senses soaring.

  “Don’t get why she’d like you?” he asked.

  She didn’t want to have this conversation. “I’m a likable person,” she said lightly. “I can just think of more suitable women she should be throwing you together with. I couldn’t name any of them, of course—I don’t run in those circles. But it doesn’t make sense that she’d go to all that effort to matchmake between us.”

  “It makes perfect sense to me.” His warm breath tickled her cheek. “We make perfect sense to me.”

  Since she’d seen so much of Emma in Logan—his charm, his personality, his determination to do his own thing—Catherine could almost believe Emma, too, found them a perfect match.

  His cheek rested against hers. A silly little thing, but just feeling him that close caused an answering need to soar through her. And when he spoke about them as if there were no barriers, no constraints…she wanted so badly to give in to his seductive words and unspoken promises. Without realizing it, she rolled closer, until their bodies aligned once more.

  “Your turn, Cat.” His voice was a hoarse command. And she felt him hard against her.

  He wanted her. She wanted him. What was stopping them?

  “Your turn,” he said again. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

  Catherine smiled. It wasn’t difficult considering Logan was gazing into her eyes with genuine concern. How could she not have fallen hard?

  But she knew what was stopping them and it was plain old common sense. Hers. Just because she’d fallen didn’t mean she had to let him know it. “Nothing’s bothering me except that I’m starving.”

  “I don’t believe you,” he whispered in her ear. “But I’m hungry, too.”

  “Good. Then lie back and relax, and let me do all the work. I promised, remember?”

  “Only if you promise to take a walk with me afterward. I want to walk on the beach with you. And I want you to talk to me.”

  “You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Montgomery.”

  He grinned. “It’s part of my charm.”

  He was charming, all right. But during the time she’d known him she’d learned a little bit about semantics and wordplay. He said he wanted her to talk to him. She’d agreed.

  But it didn’t mean she had to tell him what was in her heart.

  CHAPTER TEN

  LOGAN LOCKED THEIR HANDS together and led her onto the beach. The sand was still damp from the early morning and felt cold and wet beneath his feet—unlike his body which was hot and bothered. She’d satisfied his hunger for food, but not for her.

  Catherine had whipped up a meal unlike any he’d ever had. He was impressed not only with her talent and ability to make a feast out of the meager offerings in his kitchen, but with the pure enjoyment the task gave her. This wasn’t a woman who demanded to be waited on or who expected maid service just because his last name was Montgomery.

  “So tell me about your plans to run for mayor,” Catherine said.

  “What makes you think I’d run?”

  “I heard you mention something about it when your father picked up the phone last week, and I read it in the paper,” she admitted.

  He stopped walking. Catherine kept on going until his resolve and his firm pull on her hand stopped her. She turned back to face him.

  “How do you feel about that?” He didn’t mean to hedge, but he needed to know what she was thinking. He studied her, but had a difficult time reading her neutral expression. He let the silent moment go on.

  The roar of the waves crashed in the background. The light breeze blew her hair around her face and carried with it the scent of saltwater from the ocean. He inhaled deeply. In this spot, he’d found the sense of peace that had eluded him all his life, so buying the house had been the logical thing to do.

  When Catherine’s wide green eyes met his gaze, the same feeling enveloped him and he knew. In this woman, he’d found that same elusive contentment. She, too, brought him peace.

  She shrugged. “What you do—whether you run for mayor or not—is none of my business.” But the intense look in her eyes was at odds with her words.

  “Let’s get something straight. From this moment on, if it involves me, it involves you. That’s what us means.” He tugged on her hand and drew her against him.

  Her full breasts pressed against his bare chest and he let out a groan. Thanks to the ample privacy the beach house afforded, neither one of them was fully dressed. His cutoff shorts were his only concession to clothing, while she wore one of his oxford shirts and the skimpy underwear he’d peeled off her the night before. Taking advantage, he slipped his hands beneath the shirt and laid his palms on the soft skin of her back.

  “Us,” she murmured. “I do like the sound of that. You make life sound so simple.”

  “That’s because it is. But for the record, I’m not running for office. It isn’t me.”

  She smiled. “I happen to think you’d do a great job, but I agree.” Her hand reached up, and she brushed his hair off his forehead.

  The simple gesture, sweet in its simplicity, was oddly sensual, too. His body, already on edge, stirred to life.

  “The stuffy public image of a politician isn’t you.”

  “I’m glad you know me so well. If only my father did, too, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation,” he muttered. But Judge Montgomery had never known his only son, except as an extension of himself. He’d never even bothered to try.

  And it hurt. The same part of Logan that rebelled against the family di
ctates also longed for a normal father-son relationship. One he’d never have.

  “I take it you’ve told him?” Catherine asked.

  “Over and over. He won’t accept it, which means he continues with his own agenda. At least until I come up with a way to stop him.”

  “You want him to accept more than your decision not to run for mayor, don’t you?” she asked. The light breeze blew her hair into her face and she held it back with one hand.

  “You know that I do. I suppose it’s human to want parental approval.”

  “It’s not just that. You’ve accomplished so much with your life that you’ve earned that approval. Unfortunately he’s withholding it because your needs don’t meet his needs. It’s sad, really. And you’re both missing out.”

  “You’re perceptive. Anyone ever tell you that before?”

  She shrugged. “Not really. I think it’s just because I’ve come to know you so well, that I can read your feelings.”

  He grinned. “So I’ve accomplished a lot in a short time.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Leave it to you to make this about us. Now what about your mother?” Catherine asked. “Can she be counted on to bridge this gap? Did you ever take your case to her?”

  He shook his head, amazed he’d never thought of it before. “For so long I’ve seen her as an extension of the judge, the one who carries out his wishes in public. But really I don’t know much about them or their marriage in the past few years.” And though he rarely allowed himself to dwell on his lack of family life, he did miss things about his mother.

  She lifted her shoulders. “Maybe it’s time you learned.”

  “You’re a wise woman, Catherine Luck.”

  “An even wiser woman once told me that women are smarter than men and I shouldn’t ever forget it. Perhaps I’ve just proven her right,” she said with a grin.

  “If it’s Emma you’re talking about, please don’t ever give her the satisfaction of letting her know she’s right about anything. She’ll be impossible to handle.”

  Catherine laughed. “She already is. And maybe if you get things resolved through your mother, you can get Grace to come home.” She touched his cheek. “Because I know you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”