An Innocent in Paradise (8 page)

And if not, she would never let him know it.

 

Her scent enveloped him and fueled his craving for her. Logan had almost stayed away tonight, thinking she'd come up with some excuse to refuse him. But in the end, he had to see her. It didn't mean anything.
Couldn't
mean anything. It just meant that he needed a woman and she was the one his body happened to require.

It barely registered that some of his staff were watching him. He'd noticed Dee taking Grace's tray, knew they
were friends and he was grateful for it. As for the others, if his behavior stirred up any gossip among them, they would have to get over it.

As Grace walked toward him, he was pitifully glad he'd come. Her thin sarong was backlit by the lights of the bar and Logan could see the outline of her gorgeous legs as she sauntered toward him. His gaze was riveted to the apex of that silhouette, the subtle brush of those slender thighs as she moved closer, the curvaceous shape of her hips, the subtle rise and fall of her breasts that seemed to signal her own need.

She'd worn her dark red hair loose tonight and it fell in bouncing waves over her shoulders. He wanted to gather it in his hands and bury his face in those lustrous locks while he lost himself in her hot core.

It took every bit of control he had—control that slipped with every step they took together—not to lead her into the nearby utility room, pull off her bikini bottom, thrust himself inside her and quench this hunger. But the cold wall of a janitor's closet wouldn't do for their first time together. He intended to spend a long, long time savoring her—and for that, he wanted complete privacy. And a damn strong mattress.

They entered his suite and he wasted no time. As the door clicked closed, he flipped the lock, then turned and lifted her into his arms, giving in to the need to hold her again as he had the night before. With her pressed against him, he could recall all over again the feminine softness of her body skimming his hard chest.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and nestled her head against his shoulder as he moved quickly through the front salon and into the bedroom. Once there, he covered her mouth in a hot, devouring kiss that she met with equal fervor. Then he placed her gently on the bed and watched
as her eyes searched his face and her arms reached out for him.

“Come to me,” she said. It was the first time she'd spoken since he'd grabbed her hand and led her out of the bar. Now, as he stared hungrily at her lips glistening wet from their kiss, he knew he was about to reach the end of his famous control.

Kneeling on the bed, he straddled her, took hold of both her hands and pulled her arms up over her head. The action caused her breasts to thrust out for his pleasure. He reached behind her back to untie her bikini top, then slipped it over her head and tossed it aside. He stopped and took a moment to gaze at her exposed, perfect breasts.

“Gorgeous,” he muttered, taking both breasts into his hands to mold them gently, using his thumbs to stroke her rosy nipples to stiffness.

He bent to take one nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, licking and teasing it with his teeth and tongue. Then he switched his attention to her other breast, plying her sensitive nipple with sensual nips and licks until she moaned deep within her throat. She was writhing beneath him now and he slid himself up to claim her mouth in another kiss so heated, it could end things here and now if Logan didn't force himself to step back and slow down.

He untied the knot of her sarong and pushed it aside, then slid his fingers under the edge of her bikini bottom, seeking her most intimate spot. When he slid one finger inside her, she groaned in need.

“Tight,” he murmured. “And so hot.” He eased another finger in, then moved both fingers out and back in again as her flesh grew even more heated and moist with her need.

“Logan,” she whispered. “Please.”

Her hair moved in waves around her head like a dark red halo and her intoxicating taste and scent filled his
senses. As her sweet body twisted against him, tempting him beyond the edge, his mouth sought hers blindly, renewing his claim on her. His hard length pressed against her, demanding entry.

“I need to have you now,” he said, barely recognizing the uncivilized rumble in his voice.

“Yes, yes,” she urged him.

He jumped off the bed and quickly removed his clothes. Reaching into the top drawer of his dresser, he grabbed a condom and slipped it on.

Then he returned to her, yanked her bikini bottom down and threw it across the bed. Grasping thick strands of her hair in his hands, he urged her to meet his gaze. “I want you too much, Grace. It'll have to be hard and fast this first time.”

She nodded, her eyes glazing with desire. “Yes.”

“Finesse will have to come later.”

“God, yes, just touch me,” she demanded, lifting her mouth to cover his in a kiss so laced with sweet passion it brought an unfamiliar ache to his chest; and it forced him to ease back on his relentless urge to lose himself inside her.

Instead, he kissed her again, meeting her sweetness with his own demanding assault on her mouth, her lips, her tongue. Finally, though, that kiss, as deep as it was, wasn't enough to stay him any longer. He broke free, pulled his head back and stared down at her.

“Look at me,” he whispered. “I want to see you lose control with me.”

She complied and he stared with masculine satisfaction at the fierce glimmer of heat and need in her eyes. Holding her gaze, he plunged into her with one strong thrust.

She gasped and her eyes widened in shock.

“What the hell?” he shouted, then grimaced as he fought to hold himself completely still.

“Don't stop,” she insisted, wrapping her arms around his waist. She lifted both legs, resting her thighs against his hips, and that movement beneath him was a sensual wave that threatened to consume his last ounce of brain-power.

But Logan forced himself to stop anyway, his eyes locked on hers as he struggled to speak. “You're a virgin?”

“That's not really important right now,” she said tightly, and raised her hips to urge him deeper inside her.

“But…the G-spot,” he uttered, resting his forehead on hers as he focused every ounce of his energy on keeping perfectly still. “What about when you—”

“Can we discuss this later?” she said, and wound her legs around his to keep him bound to her.

“You're killing me,” he said with a groan.

“Don't make me,” she said through clenched teeth.

“When did you get so pushy?” he said, biting back a grin as he reached out and smoothed a strand of hair away from her cheek.

She sighed. “Nobody warned me that men talked so much during sex.”

He laughed despite the awkwardness of the moment. “Fine, but we're going to have a long talk afterward.”

“I figured we would.”

He began to move again, slowly at first, then with building speed. He tried to keep his strokes long and smooth in order to ease inside her without causing too much pain. But when she skimmed her hands across his back and locked her legs around his waist, he lost whatever last bit of control he'd managed to maintain thus far.

She matched him move for move and her heart pounded in rhythm with his. He pushed harder, pumped faster as
they both climbed higher, his need igniting more and more with every thrust.

She rocked against him and Logan drove into her with savage delight, stroking and gliding as she urged him on. Then, with a sudden sharp intake of breath, she uttered his name and shattered beneath him.

Logan watched her surrender in his arms and an innate need to join her overtook him. Thrusting harder, faster, deeper, his breath grew ragged as he used every muscle in his body to push again, then again, until an explosive wave of pleasure engulfed him and he was hurled over the edge with Grace.

Exactly where he most wanted to be.

G
race wasn't sure how long she slept. Eventually, she opened her eyes and found Logan leaning on his elbow, watching her. A frown marred his handsome features.

“I hurt you,” he said, as his fingers edged along her hairline. He was still stretched out next to her with his leg thrown over hers. It felt perfect.

“No,” she said, struggling to sit up and regain some dignity. But it was impossible because he wouldn't budge, so she plopped her head back down on the pillow with a sigh. Dignity was overrated anyway. Besides, she was
naked.
How much dignity would she really be able to find?

And who really cared? She had finally lost the big V she had carried around inside her mind for years. Her virginity was gone and frankly, she had never expected to enjoy losing something so much. Grace looked up into Logan's eyes and felt her heart give a soft, warm flutter. He had
been wonderful, even though, right now, he didn't exactly look pleased to be her deflowerer.

“You didn't hurt me at all, Logan. It was…”

“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked.

It would be silly to pretend not to know what he was referring to, but she considered playing dumb for a half second. Then she gave it up. “You mean why didn't I tell you I was a virgin? Honestly, I didn't think it would be an issue. And I confess I was so wrapped up in the moment, I didn't want to stop. I'm glad we didn't stop.”

He smiled at that. “Me, too, Grace. But I still wish you'd said something.” His voice was repentant as he stroked her hair. “I would've been more gentle, taken my time to make you feel more at ease.”

She was surprised to see regret reflected in his eyes and she reached up and touched his face. “You did everything right, Logan. It was wonderful.”

“No,” he said meaningfully, taking hold of her hand. “But it will be.”

He lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her with a tenderness she'd never thought to experience. Desire trembled within her all over again, rising inexorably as he tormented her with gentle warmth, lavished her with whispered endearments, tempted her with slow, openmouthed kisses. He touched her with a softness born from regret, she knew, that he'd neglected to use enough care with her before.

The sweetness of his actions touched her heart and she met his passion with a wholehearted joy she'd never known before. Oh, she tried to hold on to a dash of detachment for her own good, but it was useless. Logan effectively destroyed all her defenses until she was left with nothing but shivering need for his hands and mouth on her skin.

Was this what love felt like? Oh, she wasn't stupid enough to imagine she'd fallen in love with him. But she'd
often heard that being in love was the best feeling in the world, and right now, she felt pretty darn fabulous.

“I'm just going to hold you for a while, Grace,” he said softly, tucking her in close to his side.

“We're not going to—” Even she could hear the disappointment in her voice.

He smiled against her hair. “Not right this minute.”

“Oh,” she said, snuggling her head against his shoulder. “Why?”

Logan chuckled and she smiled even as she closed her eyes.

“Because you wore me out, Grace,” he said, still smiling.

“I did?” She sighed, and stretched out one arm across his broad chest. Even though it had been her first time, she must have done everything right. Good to know. “That's nice.”

As they dozed off to sleep, she issued her naive self a warning. This wasn't love. She hoped she was smart enough to know that much. But several times during the night, when she awoke and found herself in his arms, she had to wonder if she hadn't already slid effortlessly into something very close to love with him.

As daylight began to lighten the room, Grace quietly rose from the bed and got her first real look at Logan's elegant bedroom. Pale gold walls and terra-cotta floor tiles gave the space a lovely, open feeling, while thick, colorful area rugs provided warmth and a touch of charm. White plantation shutters covered a wall of windows that when opened would no doubt reveal an unsurpassed view of blue water and lush green hillsides. A comfortably overstuffed taupe sofa with striped brown and coral pillows sat against the wall facing the bed. The room was casual, elegant and expensive, and completely suited its owner.

Logan sprawled sound asleep under the covers, all rumpled and warm and sexy. Shards of sunlight streamed in through the windows illuminating the king-size bed and lending a romantic aura to the scene.

“No, no,” Grace whispered, taking quick pains to sweep all thoughts related to romantic auras out of her mind. What she and Logan were having was sex. Wild, exciting and passionate, for sure, but not a romance. Romance was for some other couple, not for them. And that was just fine and dandy with Grace. She could be as sophisticated as the next girl, right? So she vowed to be perfectly happy and enjoy her time with Logan for as long as it lasted.

And once she was back in Minnesota, whenever she found herself feeling a little bit lonely, she would be able to look back at these moments with him and remember this time as the most thrilling of her life.

Not everyone could say they'd had such a time. She was lucky. And happy.

She took one more glance at Logan, then tiptoed to the bathroom. Staring at herself in the mirror, she gave herself a little squeeze because she felt so wonderful. She'd never guessed that sex could be so… Well, now she totally understood why the spores did it every morning like clockwork.

She finished freshening up, then quietly opened the bathroom door. And shrieked.

“Not staying for coffee?” Logan said casually, as he stood there waiting for her. He wore a gorgeous smile, but otherwise, he was completely naked.

She scurried backward and yanked a bath towel off the rack to wrap around herself. Naked in the middle of the night while she was wrapped around him was one thing. Naked while standing in the morning sunlight having a
conversation was something else altogether. “I didn't think you'd… Well, good morning.”

“Good morning to you,” he said, still grinning. “You do know I saw your naked body all night long, Grace.”

“That was different,” she said, clutching the towel in a death grip. “Now it's…it's morning.” She almost groaned. So smart, yet, oh, so lame.

“Yes, it is,” he said agreeably. “I ordered coffee and breakfast. No need to rush off.”

“Oh, thank you. But I should…” She had no idea how to complete that sentence. Her lack of knowledge when it came to sexual etiquette was disheartening.

“Stay,” he said, settling the matter. He walked past her into the bathroom. “I'll be right out.”

 

They had breakfast on his private terrace. He'd ordered eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns and toast for both of them, along with a variety of pastries, juice and coffee.

Grace knew she wouldn't be able to eat half of the food on her plate, but took a bite of egg and a sip of coffee.

One half hour later, her plate was empty and Logan was pouring her another cup of coffee.

“I guess I was hungry,” she said, as she stirred a teaspoon of cream into her coffee. Logan had graciously loaned her his bathrobe so she would feel more comfortable.

He stretched back in his chair. “It's refreshing to be with a woman who enjoys eating as much as you do.”

“I take it you haven't been up to Minnesota lately,” Grace said wryly. She popped the last bite of toast into her mouth and dabbed her lips with her napkin.

He laughed. “You're right…I haven't.”

“We have to eat to stay alive up there,” she explained. “And we live by those words. Minnesotans believe you
need an extra layer of body fat or two, just to keep warm through the long winters.”

“Ah.” He leaned closer, untied her bathrobe and skimmed his fingers across her stomach, causing a shiver of excitement to race through her like lightning. “But you don't have an extra layer of body fat on you, Grace.”

“I…I suppose I work it off in the lab.” She wished she could drag him back to bed right then. But, once again, she had no idea what constituted proper behavior the morning after.

“Your lab job sounds like it would be fairly sedentary. Is it?”

“I suppose it can be for some people, but I do a lot of running around.”

They both reached for the same croissant and she almost screamed from the shock of tingling heat she felt as their hands touched. What was wrong with her?

She stared at Logan but he didn't seem to be at all affected by the touch. Instead, he grinned, took the croissant, tore it and handed her half.

“So tell me why someone like you is still a virgin.”

The question surprised her. “Someone like me?”

He broke off a piece of the flaky pastry and munched on it. “You're beautiful, Grace. What's wrong with the guys up there in the tundra? Has all that snow frozen their brains?”

“Maybe.” She felt her cheeks warm up, but she had to smile at the unexpected compliment. “Thank you. But the most likely answer is that the men I work with are lab geeks like me. They're only interested in my theories.”

She wasn't about to tell him how Walter had pretended an interest he didn't really feel. Instead, she added, “Other than that, I don't get out of the laboratory much.”

“Why not?”

“It's my job,” she said simply, but it was more than that. “It's my life.”

“Life is more than a job,” he countered.

“I suppose it should be,” she said, and knew she could've left it at that. But, for some reason, she wanted him to know more about her. “But I grew up there. I'm most comfortable when I'm surrounded by science. Even though much of it is theoretical, it's so much more real than anything else in my life. It's tangible. I totally understand it, too. It's nothing like the world outside the lab where everything is confusing and I always feel like I don't know the rules.” And that sounded pathetic, didn't it? She took a breath and added, “The lab is safe—and unemotional, for the most part. Except when I get excited about some result or finding.”

He studied her as he sipped his coffee. “What do you mean, you grew up there?”

She shrugged. “I've lived at the university since I was eight.”

“Eight?” His eyes narrowed and he set his coffee cup down and leaned in. “You mean, eight years old?”

On the other hand, maybe she shouldn't have been quite so forthcoming because now he was staring at her as if she'd suddenly grown a second head. Her imagination took flight as she envisioned the headlines:
Two-headed scientist found on tropical island.
Eyewitness reports would deem it scientifically significant, but gruesome nonetheless. She and her two heads would be put in a cage and displayed at zoos around the world. And everyone would look at her the way Logan was right this minute.

Grace reeled her thoughts back to planet Earth and held her chin up high. “That's right, I was eight years old. I told you I was smart.”

“Yeah, you did,” he said slowly, sitting back and cross
ing one leg over the other. “Told me I'd run for the hills if I knew how smart you really were.”

“That's right. Well…” She folded her napkin, placed it carefully on the table and stood. “I'll be going now.”

He grabbed her hand. “Not so fast, Grace.”

“Logan, I think we've said all there is to say.”

“I don't.” He yanked her down onto his lap and met her mouth with his in a hard, wet kiss that involved teeth and tongues and lots of zapping electrical currents zooming through her body. Then he pulled his mouth away and she knew she would've collapsed if he hadn't been holding her so tightly.

“I may not be Einstein,” he said gruffly, his eyes narrowed on her, “but I'm not an idiot. I like you just fine. And I don't run.”

Looking into his eyes, all she could think was that she was the one who probably should run—but she really didn't want to. As soon as she caught her breath, she whispered, “I'm glad.”

“Good.” Then he grinned. “Now let's go hunt for spores.”

 

She had been a virgin.

Logan was still shaking his head in disbelief two days later as he sat at his office desk. He'd just received the revised set of blueprint renderings of the proposed sports center and he pulled them from the large mailing tube. Unrolling the thick stack of drawings across his conference table, he used his stapler and a hardbound dictionary to secure the ends and prevent the stack from curling up.

Grace was the last woman on earth he would've guessed would be a virgin. If he'd known, he sure as hell wouldn't have taken her to bed the other night.

But how could he have guessed? The woman had come
across as though she'd written the book on sex. She studied a species' sexual habits, for God's sake. She gave lectures to newlyweds on how to find their G-spot—or whatever they were calling it these days. Who would've guessed that Ms. Sexual Expert had been faking it this whole time?

“Hell.” He wiped a hand across his jaw. He should've been pissed off with her deception, but instead he caught himself laughing out loud as he recalled her demands in bed the other night. He'd tried to be a nice guy when he discovered she'd never done the deed before. He'd been willing to stop altogether, or at least slow down. But not Grace. She was full steam ahead. Thank God.

Logan shook away the image of Grace naked in his bed and tried hard to focus on the sports center blueprints.

He and Aidan had learned long ago that projects like the sports center would cause problems at every step. And whenever a new problem reared its ugly head, a whole new set of drawings had to be rendered. So not only had the design of the center itself changed three times now, but they'd been forced twice to completely move the site of the project. The new site was based on the latest geological survey and the environmental impact reports they'd received last month.