The Summer Cottage (5 page)

She licked her lips, drawing his gaze. “I already know you quite well, thank you.”

Logan leaned in. “Then you know I’m used to getting what I want, one way or another.
And what I want is you, for the duration of this forced vacation to Boredom Island.”

Tensing under his hands, Jessica never dropped her eyes. “And if I say no? What happens
when we get back to New York?”

He shrugged. “The same thing that happens if you say yes. We resume functioning as
normal, with you as my assistant and me ignoring your attempts to make me work less.
No emotional entanglements inside the office.”

“Very convincing.” She grimaced. “But sex always leads to emotional entanglements.
For me, anyway.”

In that vein, Logan made himself drop his hands and take a step back. No undue persuasion
or influence. “If your final decision is no, then I respect that. But before you make
that choice, just keep in mind that you’re no longer a naïve college girl. And I’m
not a manipulative liar. I won’t buy you an apartment or jewelry. I won’t ask you
to marry me. I won’t throw a tantrum when this thing between us inevitably runs its
course and fizzles out—and I won’t hold a grudge or retaliate professionally if you
choose not to pursue it.”

“So it’s completely up to me,” Jessica clarified, color high in her cheeks. “My choice
whether to sleep with you—temporarily—or not?”

“Completely your choice,” Logan agreed with a magnanimous smile that morphed into
a sharp, predatory grin as he leaned in to catch the ripe, sun-warmed scent of her
skin. “But I’m giving you fair warning now. I intend to devote every bit of my considerable
intelligence to convincing you to take full advantage of the extraordinary compatibility
of our bodies.”

*   *   *

“You’re right,” Jessica breathed, swaying toward him. “You’re nothing like him.” Nothing
like the man who taught her that love was a pretty story for fools and children. Her
heart would be safe with Logan Harrington, because he’d never touch it. He had no
interest in it. He was skilled in the arts of no-strings-attached sex and avoiding
emotional entanglements.

Maybe she’d live a happier, more independent life if she followed his lead.

All he was interested in was sex. He admitted it up front, without embarrassment or
apology. That might sound unappealing to some women, but those women hadn’t met Logan
Harrington.

His eyes went heavy lidded and hot. “Does that mean you want to head back to the cottage
and climb up into the loft with me?”

Heart skittering in her chest—was she really doing this?—Jessica refused to let her
nerves show. “Nope.”

Disappointment, surprisingly strong, flashed across his handsome face. But instead
of sulking, he gave her a smile. “Okay. No pressure. However, I reserve the right
to keep tempting you to change your mind.”

That reaction gave Jessica the guts to say, “We’re not going up to the loft because
beds are for sleeping. That’s one of the first rules of treating insomnia. So…”

She paused to control her voice, then thought,
what the hell?
And let it drop into the husky lower register that would take this conversation from
suggestive to downright seductive. “We’re going to have to get creative.”

“Mmm.” Logan’s blue eyes lit up like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. Stepping
forward, he put his hands back on her shoulders and let his thumbs caress shivery
circles into the sides of her neck. Jessica felt as if the weight of his touch was
all that kept her from floating up off the ground. “I can do creative.”

A gull winged by overhead, soaring out over the marsh toward the sparkling ocean.
Jessica sucked in a breath of salty air and let the new sense of freedom and possibility
wash through her.

It had been a while, but she hadn’t forgotten how to flirt with her eyes. Cocking
her head at enough of an angle to brush her cheek against the side of Logan’s right
hand, she let her lips part in a slow smile. “The loft is off-limits, but that leaves
the rest of the cottage up for grabs. Or, if you’re feeling extra adventurous…”

Nearly vibrating with excitement and nerves, Jessica brought up her hand to tug down
the zipper at the neck of her gym sweatshirt. Not the best outfit for a seduction,
she mused wryly, but she was a born problem solver.

And judging by the hungry way Logan’s gaze followed the path of that little zipper
until it stopped right above her breasts, he wasn’t suffering from her lack of sexy
lingerie. She hadn’t bothered with a sports bra, since they were only walking, and
the work-out shirt had enough built-in support. So when Logan’s long fingers dipped
from her neck, over her collarbone, and drew a line down the sliver of her breastbone
revealed by the open zipper, Jessica knew her instinctive shiver would reveal her
bra-less state in no uncertain terms.

Logan’s breathing changed, went deep and harsh in his chest, and the way his strong
jaw clenched as he stared down at her made Jessica’s breasts feel warm and heavy.
Her nipples tightened even more beneath his hot stare, and the moment stretched tight
between them.

Until Logan broke the tension with a single, guttural sound, and swept her up into
his arms.

Jessica’s last giddy thought before pleasure consumed her completely was,
This might be a mistake, but it’s a mistake worth making.

Chapter 6

That first morning of lovemaking, with the sun and the wind and the ocean all around
them, stretched into an afternoon of strolling down to the beach and wading through
the foamy white surf. The only other living beings they encountered were sandpipers
hopping along the edge of the water, trying to catch the periwinkles before they dug
down into the wet sand with a flash of sunlight glinting off their shiny shells. The
band of wild horses was long gone—“Probably scared away by all the noise you were
making,” Logan noted smugly.

Jessica didn’t have the energy to retaliate with more than a halfhearted glare and
a determined snatch at his hand. Lacing their fingers together, she arched a brow
that dared him to comment on her desire to hold his hand, but Logan mimed zipping
his lips closed.

That didn’t last long, of course. They turned to head back to the cottage so Jessica
could force-feed Logan something disgustingly healthy in retaliation for how thoroughly
she’d answered his first intrusive personal question. She decided on a protein shake
with apples and kale, to make it green and gloppy.

But before he agreed to drink it, he shot her a narrow glance. “If you want me to
swallow that nasty concoction, it better earn me a bonus question.”

Jessica nearly fumbled the glass in her surprise. “You want to keep going with the
questions?”

She’d been under the impression he’d already asked the one he cared about—and since
it had led directly to the result he wanted, Jessica naked and writhing in his arms
like a woman who hadn’t been touched in far too long, she didn’t see why he needed
to ask more.

But Logan only smiled, his mischievous grin setting Jessica’s pulse pounding in delighted
anticipation. “Oh, definitely. I haven’t come close to plumbing the depths of you
yet.”

She felt the heat rise to her cheeks, but decided to ignore it in favor of rolling
her eyes at his ridiculous innuendo. “Drink your smoothie. I’m going to shower—I have
sand and dried saltwater in some very uncomfortable places. And when I get back …
you can plumb my depths to your heart’s content. So long as that glass is empty, and
your phone stays dark, silent and in your pocket. In fact, hand over the phone now.
I’ll take charge of that until we leave the island. Consider it one of my rules for
helping to rebuild your health.”

A brief spasm of irritated, reluctant respect crossed his face. “Damn it, you know
me too well.”

He reached into his pocket with two dexterous fingers and withdrew the tiny, slim
piece of high-tech gadgetry he was never without. It was his main link to the lab,
and Jessica was well aware that if she left it in his possession, he wouldn’t be able
to resist checking in and attempting to remotely control and oversee the latest project.
His team at the lab was good, but far too reliant on the fact that Logan lived, breathed
and thought about nothing but work.

Well, not for the length of time they spent on Sanctuary Island. She’d get him to
think about something other than work if it killed her.

“Gimme,” she prompted when Logan clutched his fingers around the smartphone possessively.

“You’re a hard woman, Tink,” he said with a mournful look in his blue eyes. “Here.
Promise you’ll take good care of her.”

“Her?”

How had she not known he thought of his phone as a woman?

“Sure.” Logan leaned against the kitchen counter, all long, powerful lines. A Thoroughbred
in repose. “I call her Wendy. She takes care of me, tells me stories, tells me what
to do.”

Jessica pocketed the phone smoothly. “If you’re searching for a mother, Peter Pan,
you’re definitely better off looking to the phone than to me. Although I’m always
happy to tell you what to do.”

Old, remembered sadness darted through his gaze, a silver-scaled fish appearing and
disappearing through the currents of his blue eyes. She blinked and it was gone, replaced
by the sardonic glint she knew so well. “Now Tink, don’t be jealous of Wendy.”

Shaking off the strangeness of the moment, Jessica paused in the bedroom doorway to
throw a glance over her shoulder. “I’m not worried. After all, if Wendy were to invite
you to join her in the shower, she’d be fried. Whereas if I were to ask if you wanted
to clean up together…?”

Never breaking eye contact, Logan tilted his head back and downed the protein shake
in five huge, continuous gulps. He slammed the empty glass down on the counter without
even a grimace at the taste and strode across the living room like a man on a mission.

Apparently, his mission was to back Jessica against the doorjamb, closing her into
the circle of his arms braced on the wall, and nuzzle her neck.

They made it into the shower eventually.

*   *   *

After the emotional roller coaster of his first question, Logan decided to keep the
second one light. He asked if she had any brothers or sisters, which led to a discussion
of what it was like for Jessica to grow up as an only child with parents who didn’t
understand why she would want to leave their friendly Midwestern town to make a life
for herself in New York.

“I always wished I had brothers and sisters. Preferably both older and younger,” Jessica
said, propping her chin on Logan’s chest and tangling her fingers in his chest hair.

He winced, partly from the half-pleasurable sting of her distracted tugging, and partly
because he knew better. “No, you don’t. Being in the middle is like being the last
kid on your team in dodgeball—you get it from every angle, but you’re totally on your
own.”

Jessica melted against him sympathetically, brushing her cheek over his chest and
watching him with wide, soft eyes. “Did Dylan and Miles always fight a lot?”

From his position stretched out on the living room couch with Jessica blanketing him,
Logan contemplated the cottage ceiling. “I guess. But they were close, too. Dylan
is the youngest by a bit, a late baby, so there’s ten years between him and Miles.
That kid tagged around after Miles everywhere he went, and Miles loved it.”

“And you? Where were you in all this?”

He shrugged to get his shoulders into a more comfortable position against the arm
of the sofa. “Too busy learning how to code new programming languages. I didn’t have
a lot of time for playing games and making friends. Even then, I wasn’t much of a
joiner.”

“Weren’t you in the chemistry club? Or chess club? Come on, you’re stomping all over
my nerd stereotypes.”

Logan let his lip curl slightly. “We may have gone to the most exclusive private academy
in the northeast, but the chemistry club was a joke. At least to me. They were decades
behind me, even though I’d skipped a few grades and was the youngest in my year by
far.”

Jessica tilted her head to rest her cheek over his heart again, and Logan crunched
up to get a look at her face.

He loved the freshly kissed plumpness of her mouth, the hectic pink still fading from
her cheeks. But it was the gleam of moisture in her extraordinarily green eyes that
sent his heart racing.

Of the many things he appreciated about Jessica Bell, the one that was simultaneously
useful and problematic was her perceptiveness. She’d made it her business to learn
all the ins and outs of Logan’s occasionally twisted psyche. She knew him better than
anyone left alive on the planet.

Which meant that Jessica, of all people, was liable to be able to hear and interpret
the vague sadness that left a lump in his throat and a rasp in his voice.

“Sounds lonely,” she murmured gently, and he dropped his head back onto the arm of
the sofa with a thunk.

“Don’t read too much into this stuff, Tink.” Logan stared up at the loft where he’d
gotten his first good night’s sleep in months. “I’m not complaining. I’ve had more
opportunities than most people can dream of.”

“But it required sacrifices, didn’t it? Being born into such a powerful family, and
having the intelligence to make the business stronger,” Jessica argued.

“Never felt that way to me. I preferred to spend time in the labs working on my own
projects. And hey, I was on the swim team.”

Swimming, one of the few team sports in which athletes competed individually. Logan
had enjoyed the aspect of competing essentially against himself, trying to top his
own best time.

“Of course!” Jessica’s face lit up. “Your membership at the Chelsea Piers gym makes
so much more sense now. I always wondered if you only went there to pick up women,
or if you were studying the trajectory of golf balls on their driving range or something.”