ANGEL DIDN’T HAVE A CLUE WHAT SHE WAS DOING.
Well, okay, she knew what she was doing physically, but emotionally? She was so in over her head here… Walking with Logan on a moonlit beach, him looking at her like that… she was playing with fire in a way she hadn’t imagined.
The thing was, she didn’t care—and how crazy was that?
They’d covered the basics on the walk: his childhood, his relationship with Michael’s mother, his job, his life. She’d shared what she could of hers, glossing over some of the details, but the believability factor of her story proved her point that Mers could pass in the Human world.
Not that she’d include any of this in her argument to Rod.
They’d gathered shells on the walk back. She’d found a round piece of abalone that’d make the perfect neck¬lace for Pearl, and Logan had found a piece of driftwood resembling a dinosaur for Michael. He’d shared the story of how Michael had come into his life and his anger with Christine for keeping his son from him and the hopes and plans he had.
But even though they’d talked about all of that, they hadn’t addressed what was happening between them, or what had happened last night.
So now they stood at the top of the steps they’d
climbed down a while ago, that something now so much more than it had been. Something real and potent and pretty darn scary if she was honest with herself.
She didn’t want to know so much about him. All the hardships he’d lived through, being on his own at such a young age, never having the kind of loving family she’d had, the tough, lonely life he’d pulled himself from to become so successful and such a caring father…
She didn’t want to care this much about him. There was so much about Logan Hardington to admire. So much to respect.
So much to love.
No.
She didn’t.
She couldn’t.
It was too quick. Too early.
Too soon.
Too wrong.
Too right.
Her knees buckled and she had to brace herself against the railing. Apparently Human legs weren’t as sturdy as she’d assumed.
Or maybe it was just her legs that weren’t sturdy. She was in love with him.
“Angel?” Worry colored Logan’s voice. “Are you all right?”
She shook her head. Of course she wasn’t all right. She’d just had the wind knocked out of her sails by love.
And got it knocked out all over again when Logan scooped her up in his arms.
“Logan!” she squeaked again, dropping the seashells.
Really—squeaking was not an attractive habit.
“Are you okay?” His brown eyes on her, she could see a few flecks of gold in them that matched the high-lights in his gorgeous hair. She had the strangest urge to run her fingers through it.
So she did. She didn’t think about it; it just sort of happened.
And so did the sharp breath Logan inhaled the mo-ment her fingertips brushed the back of his neck.
As did the kiss that followed.
She didn’t know who started it—didn’t care. His lips were soft at first, for just the tiniest instant before he lifted her higher in his arms and deepened the kiss.
Angel couldn’t think and didn’t care about that either. She wrapped an arm around his neck and opened her mouth beneath his.
His tongue swept in and Angel moaned. Gods, he… Logan… was just…
She didn’t have the words.
Logan didn’t either. He growled in the back of his throat, the sound primal and possessive. Aroused. Male. And Angel felt herself respond.
Her breasts swelled, and she turned to press them against his chest.
Logan adjusted his hold on her, a move Angel only realized because suddenly he was cupping her bottom in a way so hot she’d have to be dead not to feel.
And oh, did she. In every cell of her body. Especially when he clenched one cheek, his fingers brushing the cleft between them. Angel felt her legs quiver, then go completely boneless this time. Thank the gods she was already in his arms.
She moaned then, and Logan released her mouth to skim his lips along her jaw, to the soft hollow beneath her ear, and Angel let her head fall back, shivering when the soft sea breeze caressed her moist skin.
But… wait. There was something—
He licked his way around the shell of her ear, causing her to shiver again, but he was right there to warm her, sliding his lips along her cheekbone to find hers again, his big, strong hand cradling her head, angling her just right, and she felt as if her heart was going to beat out of her chest.
She lost whatever thoughts had been trying to be heard and, frankly, she didn’t care. She’d never been kissed like this by anyone but Logan. Never felt such feelings before.
She tugged at her arm that was trapped between them, trying to slip it around his waist, to feel the muscles clench and flex and tighten as he held her, but their bod-ies were too close. Dammit, she wanted to touch him as he was touching her.
Then his fingers slid between her legs from behind and she practically lost the capacity to think.
Oh gods, this was what she wanted. This. Him. Here. Now. It didn’t matter who she was, who he was, what anyone would say. Logan was… he could…
Hades, she didn’t know what he was or what he could, she just knew that she had to find out more. To know him more. In this way.
His tongue caressed hers, and her ability to breathe went the way of coherent thought.
“Angel,” he whispered against her lips and she sucked in a big, shaky breath, his scent mingling with the salty
softness of the night air. To Angel, it was like ambro-sia—the nectar of the gods they hoarded so meanly. Now she knew why—if this stuff ever became available for public consumption, no one would ever get anything done. All they’d ever be thinking about wa—
“Make love to you.” Yeah. That.
“Angel?” Logan whispered her name. He was asking her something.
Angel opened her eyes, trying to still the swirling emotions and thoughts and feelings rioting inside her, but when she saw the same emotions mirrored in his eyes—eyes that showed no sign of enchantment—she knew what her answer would be.
“Oh, Logan…Yes.”