Free The One That Got Away by Kelly Hunter Page B

started out with
grand plans for a minimalist lifestyle, but that was half a dozen years ago now
and homely clutter had moved in. Not a showpiece, this apartment, but a home.
Comfortable sofas in mismatched colours. Mismatched cushions too. Lots of colour
to balance the unpainted concrete walls and exposed girders. Logan was looking
up at those rooftop girders now.
    ‘What are you looking for?’ she asked.
    ‘Trapeze.’
    ‘Huh.’ She’d never considered a trapeze before, though she had
considered bungee apparatus. ‘You think I’d need a net?’
    ‘That or a last will and testament. You know, I never once figured you for a thrill seeker.’
    ‘Really? You don’t think me sliding so willingly up and down
the pleasure-pain endorphins might have clued you in?’
    Logan shrugged. ‘Not sure I was thinking at all when I was with
you before, Evangeline.’
    ‘And now?’
    ‘Well, I can still remember my name,’ he said. ‘That’s got to
be a good sign. Have you given any thought to what might happen after our week is up?’
    ‘Logan, I’m not sure we’re even going to get through today . There’s still three hours of it left, and
forgive me for saying so but you don’t seem to want to be here.’ Evie was
nervous. Logan looked nervous. Hardly an ideal combination.
    ‘It’s just...this is your home.’
    ‘Yes.’ She eyed Logan speculatively. ‘Logan, have you ever been in a woman’s home before? Apart from your
mother’s?’
    ‘I have aunts as well,’ he murmured.
    ‘You know what I mean.’ She meant had he ever been to the home
of a woman he’d bedded, or intended to bed.
    ‘No.’
    ‘Nervous?’ She turned to a high kitchen shelf and pulled down a
bottle of half-empty Scotch. Good Scotch. Glasses came next and then she
unscrewed the lid and poured generously.
    ‘You really think that’s the solution?’
    ‘I’m willing to give it a whirl,’ she murmured before lifting a
glass and tilting it towards him and then downing it in one hasty swallow. ‘That
one was for courage, and here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to go over
to the lounge, turn on the television and channel surf until you find something
you want to watch. I’m going to put some nibbles on a plate and bring them over
and sit down beside you and relax. There’s a slim chance you might relax
too.’
    ‘Don’t count on it.’
    ‘I’m not,’ she said dryly. ‘What do you think the courage was
for?’
    Logan shot her a smile and picked up her glass and his and the
Scotch bottle too before sauntering over to the lounge.
    She joined him a short time later, dimming the lights on the
way. Easier to ignore all the bits and pieces she’d filled her life with after
that. Not so easy to ignore the effects of Logan’s nearness, the subtle scent of
sandalwood on his skin. The strong, sensual shape of his lips or the ripe red
colour of them. He was so very kissable.
    And clearly he felt completely out of place.
    Two minutes she lasted. Two minutes before her hands were
roaming his chest and Logan’s hands were in her hair as he laid silent, lazy
siege to her mouth. Evie knew she was coming apart under Logan’s touch but there
was nothing she could do to prevent it. Did he know how closely attuned to each other they were in their lovemaking? How rare that
was? Rare for her, at any rate. Maybe for Logan it was perfectly normal. Maybe
he made every woman he bedded feel as if she were the only thing that mattered
to him in this world.
    Maybe that was just his way.
    Vocal—that was new. The husky oaths that fell from his lips
like endearments. The groans that sounded like prayer.
    On her back now, because that was where he wanted her, with her
legs drawn up on either side of him and his mouth not leaving hers. Sinuous, his
movements as he rubbed up against her. Sensuality his weapon of choice.
    And he used it with devastating effect.
    * * *
    Kissing was easy, thought Logan. Kissing was a
hell of a lot easier than talking