‘After thirty-five years I’m not sure I’d recognise it if it hit me in the face,’ he admitted ruefully. ‘But I do know I’m more attracted to you than to any other woman I’ve ever met. I also know I think about you all the time I’m away from you.’
‘That’s enough for now,’ she smoothed the hair at his temples, lovingly noticing a sprinkling of grey among its dark thickness.
Logan raised his head to look at her. ‘Is it?’ he frowned.
‘Yes,’ she kissed the side of his mouth. ‘We have time, Logan, plenty of time.’
‘Yes…’ His mouth once more claimed hers.
Callie responded without reserve, more sure than Logan, knowing that this was the man she loved, the man she wanted to be with for all time.
She slipped his jacket from his shoulders, unbuttoning his shirt, until their heated flesh seared together, her nipples hardened against his rougher skin. It was all happening so beautifully, so naturally, that there was no thought of denial, only rising pleasure, a deep ache in the pit of her stomach that was almost a pain.
And Logan was as affected as she was, a glazed look to his eyes as he kissed her throat and breasts, his breathing ragged, the pulsating of his thighs Heavy against hers.
‘No more.’ He put her away from him with a groan.
‘Logan…?’ she reached out for him.
‘No, Callie!’ He closed his eyes to her as he fought for control. ‘For once in my life I’m going to do this right. I’m no saint, darling,’ he buttoned his shirt, smoothing back his tousled hair. ‘Far from it, in fact,’ he added derisively. ‘But I’m not going to rush anything with you. Like you said, we have time.’
She felt disappointment, sitting up to refasten the halter-neck at her nape, her hair becoming entangled in the button.
‘Here, let me,’ Logan offered, his fingers impersonal against her nape.
Callie trembled with reaction; she was not sophisticated enough to deal with the sexual disappointment as easily as Logan seemed to. He turned her gently to face him, his eyes darkening to a smoky grey as he saw the tears shimmering in her eyes.
‘Darling, don’t cry,’ he pulled her into his arms with a groan. ‘Don’t cry, Callie,’ he smoothed her hair in soothing movements.
‘I’m sorry,’ she sniffed. ‘I-It—’
‘I know, my darling,’ he said softly. ‘And I’m sorry. But I don’t want to ruin anything between us.’ His hands cradled each side of her face. ‘Forgive me?’
Forgive him for not making love to her? She should be thanking him! She had been beyond saying no herself, had been lost in mindless wonder of her love for this man. And yet she didn’t feel like thanking him, still ached for him.
‘Callie?’
She drew a shaky breath. ‘There’s nothing to forgive,’ she gave a jerky smile. ‘I should be relieved you said no—’
‘I didn’t say no,’ he groaned, his eyes still dark. ‘I just said not yet.’
‘Yes,’ she smoothed the skirt of her dress. ‘Would you like some coffee now?’
‘No, thanks.’ He pulled on his jacket, doing up the buttons to his shirt. ‘I have to go. Lunch tomorrow?’
‘I—’
‘It will save the telephone call,’ he encouraged.
‘But not my waistline!’ Callie joined in his lighter mood, glad that Logan was controlling the situation, knowing that he was right to do so.
‘Your waistline doesn’t need saving,’ he said huskily. ‘It’s perfect as it is.’
‘That’s what I mean,’ she teased. ‘I don’t want to get any fatter.’
‘You aren’t fat, you’re perfect.’ He held her hands in his. ‘Please meet me for lunch, Callie. It’s such a long time until the evening.’
She felt the same way, and despite the fact that Logan had admitted to being anything but an innocent where women were concerned, she knew this wasn’t a line—and that he was as bewildered by this overwhelming attraction as she was.