Simply Scandalous Page 9

  At first, she’d been afraid of the aftermath, afraid he’d find himself with a woman he’d had enough of. But when she’d rolled away, giving him the option of space, he’d rejected it. Everything before and since had been like a dream.

  She’d been so depleted she barely remembered making her way from the den to the bedroom, and after he’d returned from putting out the fire, she’d curled into his warmth and fallen fast asleep.

  There hadn’t been time nor energy for second thoughts then, but she had plenty of opportunity now. Yet the one thing she couldn’t do was regret her night with Logan. He’d been a generous and giving lover, attuned to her wants, her needs and her feelings. But it did figure.

  The only one-night stand in her life and she had to pick the wrong man. Oh, he was the right man in every way—just not for her. She was petrified their worlds would collide and destroy what they had shared.

  The jarring ring of the telephone shattered her thoughts. Good thing, since she didn’t like the direction they were taking. She let it ring, until the answering machine on the bedstand clicked on and she heard Emma’s voice say, “Logan? Cat? Come on, pick up. I know you’re there.”

  Groaning, she reached for the phone. “Hello?”

  “Too tired for an amusing greeting. That must be a good sign.”

  “Emma.” Catherine laid her head against the pillow. It was no wonder Logan had nearly given up trying to keep up with the older woman. She probably had more stamina and antics up her sleeve than the two of them put together.

  “So glad you recognized my voice, dear. Long nights can sometimes cloud the brain. How are you feeling this morning?”

  She refused to succumb to the bait. “Just fine, Emma. And you?”

  “Just fine means my grandson’s technique needs work.”

  Catherine felt a heated flush rise up her naked body. Logan’s technique had been beyond amazing, not that it was any of Emma’s business.

  Catherine wondered how long it had been since anyone had given Emma a run for her money. She adored the older woman, but a lesson was in order.

  “You know, you’re right,” Catherine said. “Maybe it was the long drive or the run through the rain, but he just wasn’t up to what I’m sure is his normal…potency.”

  Emma coughed. And Catherine realized the bathroom door had already opened, in time for Logan to have caught the end of the conversation. He stood by the bed, his jeans riding low on his narrow waist, a towel hanging over his shoulders, and an eyebrow raised in blatant disbelief.

  “Emma,” Catherine mouthed, pointing to the receiver.

  Logan placed a finger over his lips, and motioned for Catherine to hand him the phone. She nodded and did as he asked. He held the receiver in one hand and hit the speaker button with the other.

  “You do realize sometimes men aren’t up to snuff their first time with a woman, but I’m sure it’ll get better, dear.”

  Catherine couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing.

  Emma sniffed. “I know you’re there, Logan, and speakerphones are so rude. Have I taught you nothing about class and refinement?”

  It was Logan’s turn to laugh. “Everything I learned, I learned from you. Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to pry?”

  “I was just having a nice conversation with Catherine, wasn’t I, dear?”

  Catherine bit down on her lower lip. “Yes, ma’am. But you should know I stayed because of the storm. Nothing happened last night.” She crossed her fingers behind her back as she spoke.

  But at the mention of last night, Logan’s steamy gaze met hers. “Liar,” he mouthed as he lowered himself beside her on the bed.

  The distinct masculine scent of spicy soap and aftershave aroused her in an instant. She pulled the sheet up around her, but the effort was too little too late. He’d already seen it all, and more.

  “Well, of course, nothing happened. I raised my grandson to be a gentleman. And you’re every inch the perfect lady. For him,” Emma added.

  “Now I’ve got to run. I’m hanging up now, bye.” A click was followed by a long dial tone.

  Logan snapped off the speakerphone and they both laughed aloud.

  “I wonder if she learned her lesson,” Catherine asked.

  “Doubtful. You wouldn’t believe the last plan she had in mind for us.”

  “Us?”

  He nodded. “Emma had a plan before there even was an us. She was born to scheme.”

  Catherine grinned. “Apparently so. But she also had a strong influence on your life and your character.”

  “Tell me how you figured that out,” he said wryly.

  “Well, aside from the obvious, I’m observant.” She glanced around her again, at the room in which the Logan Montgomery, bachelor, lived.

  “Almost everything here is your distinctive personality. The wood furniture is old but masculine, like the brown and tan color scheme. The wood’s not polished, it’s worn and comfortable. But there are touches in here that you’d never have chosen on your own. Touches I’d bet Emma supplied.”

  He grinned, obviously amused. “Such as?”

  “Well, a man doesn’t go for the little things. That throw rug by the bed? It adds warmth to the room. The tray with your keys on the nightstand? I bet you’d just toss your keys on the dresser. You’d never think of buying a pewter tray. And those antique books and the shiny marble bookends? A gift,” Catherine said, fairly certain she was correct.

  At least, she hoped she was. She preferred to believe his grandmother had supplied the decorative touches than to think he made a habit of bringing women to his cottage on the water.

  “You’re partially right. Emma bought the rug and the antique books.”

  “And the rest?” she asked, holding her breath.

  “A beautiful woman with too much money to spend supplied the bookends and the pewter tray.”

  A twisting jealousy churned Catherine’s stomach and she didn’t like the feeling. “Well, she’s got good taste,” she admitted grudgingly.

  “She should. Her feisty grandmother taught her everything about having a decorative eye. Grace was a fast learner,” he said, laughing.

  “You’re a rat.”

  He eased himself beside her. The mattress dipped beneath his weight. Before she could think, he leaned forward and brushed a warm kiss over her lips. “But I’m a lovable one.”

  He was right. “You’re an arrogant rat,” she said, refusing to let his ego swell.

  “So Grace says.”

  “How often do you see her?” Catherine asked.

  “Not enough. But we check in once a week, usually Sunday nights. I like to make sure she’s not getting into trouble, and she likes to keep up on life in Hampshire. Even if she won’t admit it out loud, she misses her friends here. She even misses certain members of the family.”

  “You and Emma.” It wasn’t a difficult guess for Catherine.

  “And Mother. Believe it or not, she and Grace have this bond. It’s Dad she can’t stand to be around.”

  “Maybe she’ll come home one day.”

  He shrugged. “A lot of things would have to change.” His gaze met hers, zeroing in and not letting go. “But you never know. Miracles do happen.”

  A tingling sensation took hold, and Catherine breathed deeply. His potent scent made her stomach curl in response. “What time is it?” she asked.

  “Ten.”

  “Wow!”

  “I take it you’re not used to sleeping in?”

  “What can I say? You wore me out.”

  He grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  Reaching behind her, she grabbed for her pillow and playfully hit him on the shoulder. “You would.”

  “I also kept my first promise.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “And what would that be?”

  “Since it’s morning, we’ve had more than one night.” His boyish grin disarmed her defenses.

  For a woman who didn’t believe in much,
he was awfully close to making her believe in the promises he made. We could have more than one night, Cat. The man believed in miracles. How could she discount his promises?

  But her mother had believed her father’s promise that he’d stick around—and he had—long enough to make two children as soon as biologically possible before disappearing for good. Logan wasn’t a man like her father. Thanks to his grandmother, he was grounded in reality. Any man willing to take on the commitment of a mortgage and a run-down house knew how to settle down and grow roots.

  Not that she was foolish enough to expect anything long-term from Logan Montgomery. Or so she told herself. But Catherine feared if she spent much more time with him, she’d begin wanting just that.

  “The sun’s out,” she said inanely. “I really do need to get to my sister’s.” Out of here. Back to reality. Where her practical sister and her know-it-all cop husband could give her a good mental shake and remind her why she could not believe in the fantasy she had begun to weave.

  “I was thinking we’d go out for breakfast and I could drop you off after.”

  Catherine bit down on her lower lip. She’d regret this later, but he deserved something kind from her. “Tell you what. Give me a few minutes to shower and I’ll fix you something here. Then you can take me to Kayla’s.”

  “That sounds good.” He leaned closer. His lips were in kissing distance again and she waited. “But the cupboards are bare,” he said softly.

  “I wish we were.” She bit her tongue the minute the words escaped her lips. “I mean, that’s too bad.”

  He grinned. “Not really. This way I get a rain check.”

  Catherine opened her mouth to argue and this time he sealed his mouth over hers, cutting her off.

  At least for now.

  AFTER FOLLOWING CATHERINE’S directions, Logan pulled up in front of a quaint house painted in a light shade of gray. The sun bathed the house in light, now that the rain and clouds of the day had dissipated. The half hour drive had passed quickly. Cat had chattered during the entire trip and Logan now knew all about her sister, Kayla, her husband and their soon-to-be expanded family.

  Catherine obviously loved her sister and, despite her complaining, he sensed she liked her sister’s husband. He also believed Catherine rambled out of nervousness, because she didn’t want to discuss the possibility of seeing each other again.

  She didn’t believe they had any sort of future and Logan intended to prove her wrong.

  In Catherine, he detected a deep sense of longing for the hearth-and-home type of life her sister now had, even if she’d never admit it aloud. He recognized Catherine’s yearnings because they echoed his own need for desires he never realized he’d had. Until Catherine.

  “Well, we’re here.”

  Resting his arm over the steering wheel, he turned to look at her. “Yes, we are.” He noticed her hand on the door handle and grinned.

  “Going somewhere, Cat?”

  Her blush would have charmed him, if she hadn’t already had him well in her grip. “Home?” she said.

  “Without a word?” Teasing her came naturally, if only because she took it so well.

  She opened her mouth, then closed it again.

  “Say so long,” he instructed her.

  She shook her head. “I have no idea why I let you fluster me,” she muttered. “No one flusters me. Not even Nick.”

  “Who’s Nick?” he asked, hating the sound of another man’s name on her lips.

  “My chef. And close friend. We went to culinary school together. He’s been teasing me since he was shorter than me and after I kicked him in the shins the first time…”

  “He never tried it again?”

  Catherine laughed. “Of course, he did.”

  “And this Nick. He’s a…”

  “Friend,” she said softly. Seriously, as if reading the tone in his voice. “An engaged friend.

  He hasn’t made a move since we were kids.”

  He met her steady gaze and knew he’d been right. She’d understood and sought to reassure.

  He appreciated her for that. He’d never succumbed to jealousy before but wasn’t surprised his first time involved Catherine Luck, because no woman had ever affected him the way she had.

  She uncrossed her legs. “Goodbye, Logan.” She looked away, and before he realized her intent, had pulled on the door handle.

  “Cat, wait.”

  She released it and turned. Her green eyes were suspiciously damp. “What?”

  “Goodbye’s too final.” Myriad words were on the tip of his tongue, but goodbye wasn’t one of them. She’d be seeing him again, whether she believed it or not.

  She drew a deep breath. “It was fun, but…”

  “It was more than that.”

  She shook her head. “It can’t be.”

  “Why? Because my name’s Montgomery?”

  “That’s one reason.” Catherine didn’t dare name any more. Otherwise she’d risk admitting her real feelings and the fact that she was dangerously close to falling in love with a man she’d just met.

  Love at first sight didn’t exist. Once she got out of this car, she’d remember that.

  “This is the modern world, Cat. Class differences don’t exist.”

  Tell it to the judge, she thought, but refused to utter the words aloud. Logan had gone so far out of his way to distance himself from his family and their way of life, that Catherine knew he believed what he said. He just didn’t realize what would happen when two worlds like theirs collided.

  Besides, she had no doubt that once he got back home, all she’d be to him was a distant memory. “Can’t we just say it’s been fun…”

  “And I’ll see you around?” he jumped in, finishing for her.

  “Something like that.”

  He grinned and she knew she’d dug herself in deep. “Sounds good to me. I’ll pick you up Friday. We’ll have dinner in Boston before driving back to the beach. Maybe this time the weather will be nice and I’ll get to show you some of the more special spots hidden away from prying eyes.”

  He’d gotten the best of her and he knew it. “You’re too literal,” she told him.

  “I’m honest,” he shot back. “And you led me to believe you valued that quality.”

  “I do,” she whispered.

  Nothing like her own words to sway a wary heart, Catherine thought. Unsure of what else to say, she gripped the door handle tighter.

  “Then believe me when I say I want to see you again. There’s something too strong between us to just let it go.”

  Her heart began a rapid, pounding beat inside her chest. He was good with words—hers, his, it didn’t matter—because he was even better at getting past her defenses and making her believe in the impossible.

  She glanced outside and saw her sister’s husband, Kane, walk out the front door. Probably making a routine check on a suspicious car in front of his house, Catherine thought wryly.

  She had no desire to introduce these two men and endure Kane the detective’s probing questions later. “I have to go.”

  “Friday?” he asked. “You owe me breakfast,” he said when she remained silent.

  She gazed into his eyes. His honest eyes. She’d made love to him, opened up to him and she trusted him. The only person she was fighting here was herself.

  A smile tugged at her lips.

  “You’re wearing my favorite sweats and I’d like to collect them in person.” He was persistent, she’d give him that. He had no way of knowing she’d already made up her mind.

  “Call me,” she said and before he could respond, she opened the door and slipped out of the car, slamming it behind her.

  “Ball’s in your court,” she murmured aloud.

  He didn’t know where she lived, nor did he have her number. Of course, thanks to Pot Luck and Emma, she was easy to find. But if he was truly interested, he’d have to make the effort. She wasn’t coy nor was she playing hard to get. She just wanted to know h
e was serious before she allowed herself to get in any deeper.

  Problem was, Catherine was in way over her head already.

  “THELOGAN MONTGOMERY? You slept with the Logan Montgomery?” Kayla’s voice seemed unnaturally loud in the small bedroom.

  Catherine cringed. “Would you stop saying it like that? And what do you mean the Logan Montgomery?”

  Her sister reached for the stack of newspapers lying on a table beside the bed. “It’s in here somewhere. In today’s ‘Living Large’ column…”

  “Hold on.” Her sister was beyond intelligent. She read fiction, literature and medical journals, but…“You’re reading gossip columns? Stop the world, I want to get off.”

  A red blush stained Kayla’s fair skin. “Ever since the doctor said bed rest, I feel trapped. I go through books like they were water. Even Kane and his library trips after work can’t keep up with me. I’ll read anything, including trash,” she admitted.

  Catherine sat on the edge of the bed and patted her sister’s hand. “What’s it like to live in the common world?” she teased. Kayla was smarter than any person had a right to be and she had an incredible memory. She could spend hours in a library, reading material of interest to no one else in the world.

  “Very funny.” Kayla thumbed through the newspaper. “Aha. Here it is. Take a look.”

  Knowing she wouldn’t like what she saw, Catherine accepted the paper anyway, and found herself face-to-face with a close-up shot of Logan, taken at yesterday’s Garden Gala. Even at a distance, his good looks were enough to take her breath away. But the memories of their intimate moments, the sound of his deep voice, his warm hands on her body, him inside her…was enough to melt her heart.

  “Read the article,” Kayla said.

  Catherine shifted her attention back to the paper. “Favorite Hampshire man, Logan Montgomery, son of Judge Edgar Montgomery and his wife, Annette, is rumored to be ready to announce his candidacy for mayor of Hampshire. Although the delectable bachelor firmly denied the story, Judge Montgomery told this reporter to stay tuned—as if any of us need an additional reason to keep an eye on this perfect specimen. Too bad for us single working girls, he’s destined to be snapped up by…”