Page 27

I sat on the bed and ran my hands over the soft material. When my eyes fluttered shut, it wasn’t Kurt I saw storming into the room. Instead, I saw Logan. He was there on my bed, making love to me as he had on Valentine’s Day. The mere thought of him erased the wickedness clawing to get back in.

I was home, and I was safe. The stiffness melted from my muscles and seeped through my pores as I lay back and closed my eyes, smiling.

“Cassandra!”

I shifted in my sleep, rolling my head to the side.

“Cassandra!”

“Mmm,” I moaned, Logan’s voice heavy in my dreams.

“Cassandra?”

It was now a soft whisper of a sigh calling out to me. I opened one eye slightly, peeking through a haze to find Logan standing over me, his hand scrubbing down his face.

“I couldn’t find you. I was…” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. What are you doing here?”

With a hollow yawn, I stretched my arms above my head. His uneasy expression softened when I grabbed his arm and tugged. He complied instantly, shrugging out of his coat and pulling me into his arms as he lay down beside me.

“I fell asleep,” I whispered groggily. “Sorry. What time is it?”

“Sixish. How are you feeling?” he asked, looking around the room.

I followed his gaze, ignoring the question. “They did a good job. I wish you’d let me pay you back,” I said, running my fingers over his abs. My head rested in the nook of his neck.

“You already know the answer to that.”

My eyes drifted skyward, and I knew he could hear the slight growl in my throat. “Can I at least make it up to you?” I shifted my head to see his face.

His lip quirked up. “As much as I like the sound of that, Oliver’s waiting.”

“I wasn’t implying sex, perv boy! Something…better.” Was that possible? I’d need time to think of something extraordinary.

“I’m intrigued.” A full-blown grin spread over his lips. “But unfortunately, for now, we should go. We made you dinner. I thought you were up in my room resting.”

“Okay, just let me grab some clean clothes.” I looked back down at our entangled legs. “I wanted to come here alone first.”

Logan encased me more tightly in his arms and pressed a kiss to the side of my head. “Understandable. So just one change of clothes?”

I smiled, pushing myself up to capture his mouth with a swift kiss. “Play your cards right and I might give you a bonus day,” I murmured.

“Now you’re talking.”

He grabbed my hips and flung me on top of him, setting off a fit of giggles I couldn’t control when his fingers worked painfully slowly up my sides.

“I thought Oliver was waiting!” I panted between squeals.

“He is, but you seem to be holding me captive,” he teased, a wicked grin in place.

“Me!?” I yelped, gasping for air when he sat up, one hand locked around my waist and the other tickling me torturously.

“Stop!” I cackled. It was a horrible sound, yet his fingers refused to relent. Swatting didn’t help, and as much as I tried to roll off him, he blocked my every move. My heaving gasps and his boyish laughter were all I could hear.

Realizing I needed to gain control, I lunged forward and ensnared his bottom lip, then bit down gently.

His gaze darkened in surprise and his hands fell from my stomach, moving up to cup my cheeks. I opened my mouth to free his lips and placed a soft kiss over them.

“I forgot you play dirty.”

“We need to go over your definition of ‘playing dirty’. You know—pot, kettle, and all.” I climbed off the bed and crossed the room to my dresser, pulling out a few items. “Come on, let me get some clothes packed before dinner gets cold.”

“How about this?” Logan asked, appearing beside me. He grabbed the silk nightie I’d worn in his pool months ago, when he’d been watching me. My skin seared with goose bumps.

His breath was on my neck. “I want this framed on my wall to remind me of a night I’ll never forget.”

I grimaced, glancing over at him continuing to rifle through my drawer. “Not sure how that would look next to your artwork.”

Logan held up the thin fabric, admiring it. “True. Then how about I paint you wearing it?”

My rummaging through the drawer ceased instantly at his suggestion. Slowly, my gaze moved back to his. “You want to paint me?”

“Since the day I met you, I’ve wanted you in my studio posing for me.”

I blushed. The intensity in his eyes was thunderous.

“Okay,” I said, nodding. His hands traveled up my stomach, and I winced at the burn from the scrapes still marring the area. I didn’t want to be painted until my body was fully healed. “But not this weekend.”

There was pure pleasure in his smile. “There’s no rush. I’ll always want to paint you.”

I stepped back, loading my arms with a couple blouses and pairs of jeans.

“So, have you painted a lot of women?” I asked softly. Why did I go there? I knew the answer from Hilary, yet the question still came out. “Not that it matters. I was just curious, I guess. Never mind—don’t even answer. Not my business.” Shut up!

“Yes,” Logan answered instantly.

“Right,” I breathed out, my gut churning. I should’ve known better than to go there.

His hands encircled my waist, twisting me to face him. His finger took my chin, lifting my head. “I greatly enjoy painting, and there are many people who enjoy sitting to have someone capture them on canvas.”

That’s good enough for me. I swallowed, not needing to hear more.

“Any woman I painted outside of a paying job was faceless to me.”

Seriously, you can stop now. Should I say something, or will it show insecurity? Maybe he needed to tell me. If he did, then I’d listen. I wanted to know everything about him, but the women…I’d seen enough to know I didn’t really want to go there.

“Cassandra, they never meant anything,” he explained.

I nodded, a tight smile in place. Time to change the subject. “I think I’ve got everything. You ready?”

“I want to show you,” he offered, and I could’ve sworn I felt my jaw drop.

“What?” I stepped out of his hold, my face scrunched. “No! I don’t need to see…anything. I’m good, really.”

“That came out wrong.” He sighed. “I meant I want to show you my work. I never kept the paintings I did of women—only the ones I’m related to. And I promise they’re fully clothed.”

“I would hope so!” I laughed, knocking down the walls of tension that had been building.

Logan’s thumb traced my chin, his eyes locked on mine. “You know I love you, and my past is just that—the past. I can only tell you that before you entered my life, I was a very lonely man. Oliver was my only reason to smile. To have you pose for me….” A smile curved his lips. “It would be an honor. A privilege.”

I kissed his thumb, no longer caring about the women of his past. I already knew they were there, and that they meant nothing to him.