Healed with a Kiss (Bride Mountain 3)

Though she was almost four years his junior, Bonnie had always been somewhat maternal in her manner toward him, especially since their mother died. The most domestic of the siblings, she loved cooking and decorating and taking care of others, which made her perfect for the general manager and chef role at Bride Mountain Inn. She’d been in the habit of fussing over him ever since a tumor in his left leg had struck him down in college, when she’d still been a senior in high school. He’d been pretty sick for a year through painful and debilitating treatments, but he had long since fully recovered. Bonnie knew that, intellectually, but there were still times when he suspected she looked at him and experienced painful memories, even though she knew he didn’t want to talk about that time. As far as he was concerned, it was all in the past. No need to relive it.

His ordeal had left him more reserved than he’d been before, more prone to be somewhat of a loner—and a great deal more skeptical of promises and expressions of loyalty from anyone outside his family. He had absolute faith that his sisters would be there for him through thick and thin, whatever happened—just as he would be for them. Anyone else...well, he’d long since decided that having no expectations was the best way to prevent being disappointed or disillusioned again.

Because he could trust his sister implicitly—and maybe because she’d softened him up with pot roast and cherry tarts—he kept his tone indulgent when he said, “I’ll let you know if I decide to take your advice. Now, I’d better head back to my place. Ninja’s going to want his evening walk. Thanks for dinner, Bon. It was delicious, as always.”

“Let me send a couple of tarts home with you for later.”

He grinned. “I won’t argue with that.”

* * *

“It was nice to meet you, Alexis,” Mark Fiorina said as he held her hand a bit too snugly in a good-night shake Friday evening. “I hope to see you again sometime?”

Turning the wish into a question made it clear he was fishing for her phone number, but she merely gave him a vague smile. “It was very nice to meet you, too, Mark,” she said.

Though he’d seemed a little dense when it came to social skills during the evening, he must have picked up on her politely worded message that she wasn’t interested in going out with him. Her mother’s latest “prospect” was pleasant enough, if a little dull, but she had no desire at all to see him again. With a nod, he took his leave of her mother’s home. Alexis intended to make her own escape almost immediately behind him.

“Honestly, Alexis, what was wrong with that one?” Paula Healey demanded from behind her daughter. Her hands were planted on her curvy hips, and her penciled brows creased beneath her salon-streaked ash-blond hair, making her bafflement clear. But then, that was the way her mother often looked at her. “He’s a good man, a successful investment banker, and you didn’t even give him your number, did you?”

“No, I did not. When are you going to stop these ridiculous attempts to fix me up with someone? I keep telling you, I’m not interested.”

Predictably, her mom’s lower lip quivered. “I just want you to be happy, Alexis. You need more in your life than work, you know.”

“I have more in my life than work. I am perfectly happy. I need you to accept that and back off, Mother.”

“I blame your father. Two nasty divorces set a terrible example for both you and your poor brother.”

Alexis didn’t even bother to point out that her mom had been involved in one of those nasty divorces, not to mention the years of acrimonious child custody fights that had followed. She knew her mother would argue that her current marriage was successful, though Alexis had always considered this one a rather calculated arrangement. Her mother, however, was the type of woman who needed to be married to feel secure, so whatever worked for her.

Alexis liked her stepdad just fine, though he was the reserved, brainy type who contributed little to a conversation unless it had to do with economics or American history. Like her mom, Duncan seemed content to be married for practical, socially advantageous purposes. They got along well, though they appeared to live almost separate lives from the same home, with different friends, different hobbies, different interests. Maybe they’d stay together, if for no other reason than because it would simply be too much trouble to split up. Maybe theirs was the best way to approach a marriage. No rosy-eyed illusions, no unrealistic expectations, no bitter disappointment when it didn’t turn out to be everything they’d dreamed of in romantic fantasies.

Yet just the thought of getting into a long-term relationship with Mark Fiorina—or any of the other men her mother had paraded in front of her—made Alexis so depressed she just wanted to curl up in a corner somewhere. She would so much rather have fun with Logan for a short time than tie herself down for years to someone who didn’t excite her at all. There was no way she was going to mention Logan to her mom, of course. Her mother would insist on knowing details and meeting him, interrogating them both, which would ruin everything. Her time with Logan was like a secret gift to herself, a private respite from all the annoyances in her life.

Even now she could let her mind drift for a moment to their kisses on the mountaintop and feel her irritation with her mom fading, letting her speak evenly. “I really should be going. I’ve got an event tomorrow and have to get an early start. I’ll just go in and say good-night to Duncan and Sean and the others before I leave.” Her brother had brought a date, and two couples who were friends of her mother’s had attended the dinner party, for a total of ten at the table. Perhaps her mom had thought the number would make her fix-up attempt less obvious. She’d been wrong, of course.

It was clear that her mom would have liked to lecture awhile longer, but Alexis had become quite skilled at evading those confrontations. Ten minutes later she was in her car and headed home, to her relief. Despite everything, she loved her mom and her brother and she was glad she lived close enough to see them a couple times a month. But she was also very glad that almost an hour’s drive separated them the rest of the time.

* *

*

Logan and Alexis finally found a chance to get together Sunday evening. He swept Alexis into his arms almost the minute he closed her door behind him. Though it had been only one day short of two weeks since his last visit, he had barely enough patience to make it to her bedroom before stripping off their clothes. He didn’t actually pop buttons or rip seams—he still maintained some self-control—but he had to admit he was made perhaps a bit clumsier than usual by his impatience.

It was a nice boost to his ego that Alexis seemed as hungry for this as he was. He felt the tremors in her hands when she tugged at the hem of his shirt, heard the catch in her breath when they were finally skin to skin, felt the pounding of her heart when he covered one warm, taut-tipped breast with his hand. He loved the way she gasped and arched when he nipped his way down her stomach to her thigh, when he strung hot, wet kisses down the inside of her leg to her knee and back up again. Savored the choked sound she made when he placed his mouth on her.

With an arousing growl of frustration, she tugged at his shoulders, pushed at him until he lay on his back, straddled him with a reckless laugh that heated his blood close to the boiling point. And when neither of them could hold out any longer, they rolled on her soft white sheets, mouths and bodies fused, their pleasure expressed in low moans and incoherent murmurs.

They were in no hurry to leave her bed afterward. Propped on one elbow, Logan rested his head in his hand and gazed down at her as he smoothed a strand of hair from her damp face. “So, now that we’ve got that out of the way...”

She laughed at his paraphrase of her comment the last time he’d visited her bedroom. “I’m surprised we didn’t break the bed.”

He grinned briefly. “The night’s not over yet.”

She laughed again. “Sounds promising.”

They were teasing, of course. He wouldn’t spend the whole night with her. Another hour or so and he’d have to head back to the inn. Which was just as well. He’d never been much for those stilted morning-after conversations.

She glanced toward the doorway. “I’m sure Fiona’s still sulking in there because you didn’t bring Ninja.”