Modern Romance January 2020 Books 5-8. Heidi Rice

of sleeping for the rest of the night. He paced one of the spare bedrooms with his thoughts as tangled as fishing line. He could not forgive himself for not realising Layla’s lack of experience. How could he have been so blind? In hindsight, all the clues were there. He had never heard any mention of a boyfriend, he had never seen her bring anyone home to Bellbrae, and although he knew little of her life in Edinburgh, she had given him the impression she was experienced with her misleading and ambiguous comments about her past love life. And he’d fallen for it, because he’d wanted an excuse to sleep with her. That was the part of his conscience he was struggling with the most. He had broken his own rules—the rules he had instated to protect her from unnecessary hurt.

      And he had gone and done it anyway.

      He sucked in a jagged breath and released it in a rush. He had done it because ever since that day in the north tower, he had felt something shift in their relationship. A tectonic shift. He couldn’t be in the same room as her without feeling the subtle change in energy. Sensual energy that tingled and tightened his skin and made him want and want and want with an ache that wouldn’t go away, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it.

      And that was another tripwire in his conscience—he’d enjoyed every pulse-racing minute of their lovemaking. It had been off the scale in terms of pleasure. Satisfying in a way sex hadn’t been for him for years. The intuitive connection of their bodies, the rhythm and timing of every movement had felt so natural, so fluid and free and phenomenal it still rang in his flesh like a struck tuning fork.

      Logan walked to the windows overlooking the ocean, trying to distract himself with the view, but it was no good.

      How could you have not known? What were you thinking? You hurt her.

      He wanted to blank them out but a perverse part of him relished in the self-flagellation. It was no more than he deserved. He had once thought he was pretty good at reading people but not now. His disastrous and tragic relationship with his fiancée had taught him otherwise. And now this situation with Layla had only reinforced it.

      He was rubbish at relationships. How could he hope to change that abysmal track record? Was there any point even trying?

      The journey back to Scotland was painfully silent. Layla tried once or twice to engage Logan in conversation on the flight but he only answered in monosyllables and seemed preoccupied with his thoughts. He rarely touched her. In fact, he seemed to be avoiding all contact, even eye contact. Was he still regretting their lovemaking? He had been so tender and considerate afterwards that a hope had sprouted in her chest that maybe he would agree to deepening their relationship. Had he weighed up the potential consequences and decided it wasn’t worth it?

      That she wasn’t worth it?

      On the drive back to Bellbrae from Inverness airport, Logan drove with clenched hands and jaw, his forehead creased in a perpetual frown, which didn’t nurture her fledgling hope one little bit.

      ‘You know, we’re not going to be very convincing as a married couple if we don’t even exchange a few polite words now and again,’ Layla said.

      He flicked her a glance. ‘Sorry. Did you say something?’

      She gave a humourless laugh. ‘I’ve been trying to make conversation with you ever since we left Honolulu. You’ve barely spoken four or five words to me. I guess the honeymoon is definitely over, then?’

      He flinched at the word ‘honeymoon’ and his hands tightened like clamps on the steering wheel. ‘I can’t tell you how much I regret what happened. I hate myself for hurting you.’

      ‘I wish you’d stop making such an enormous deal about it. So what if we had sex? Even perfect strangers have sex with each other. Besides, no harm has been done.’

      His gaze swung her way again. ‘Hasn’t it?’

      ‘Of course not.’ Layla surreptitiously squeezed her legs together, secretly enjoying the pull of still tender muscles that his intimate presence had caused. She had relived their lovemaking numerous times, remembering each touch, each caress, each kiss that had set her flesh on fire and left it thrumming with pleasure. Her body ached to feel his presence again, to experience more of his magical lovemaking. To explore the sensuality that had erupted so naturally between them and shown her a world of heady and erotic delights she hadn’t known existed. She kept her hands planted on her lap but she longed to place her hand on his thigh like a lover would do.

      The rest of the journey continued in mutual silence but just as they approached the long driveway leading to the Bellbrae estate, Logan let out a stiff curse, not quite under his breath.

      ‘What’s wrong?’ Layla asked.

      ‘That’s Robbie’s new car,’ he said, indicating the flashy red sports car ahead of them on the driveway. ‘God only knows how he’s paying for it. It’s worth five hundred thousand euros at least.’

      Layla looked ahead to see the sports car’s wheels spinning over the gravel, spraying stones out to each side and it reminded her yet again of the stark differences between the two brothers. Logan was steady, reliable and cautious, someone who thought before he acted. Robbie, on the other hand, leapt before he looked, reacted rather than reflected, took risks and suffered little or no remorse for his reckless actions.

      ‘Have you spoken to him since we…got married?’ Layla asked. The word was still a novelty to her, even though she wore his ring on her left hand.

      ‘I sent an email. I gave up on the phone—he hardly ever gets back to me when I call or text.’ The weariness in Logan’s tone spoke of a long and frustrating history between him and his younger brother. ‘I told him we’d formed a relationship and decided to get married.’

      Nerves in Layla’s stomach unfurled and fluttered their razor-sharp wings. It was going to be difficult to convince his brother their marriage was genuine when Logan was so determined to keep his distance from her. ‘But he would have seen the will, surely? Won’t he have already put two and two together?’

      ‘It’s immaterial what he thinks. It doesn’t change the fact our marriage is legal.’

      Layla bit down on her lower lip. ‘I’ll try not to let you down.’

      He flashed her the briefest of rueful smiles but it didn’t take the shadows out of his eyes. ‘That seems to be my job. Letting people down.’

      Logan helped Layla out of the car a short time later, placing his arm around her waist as his brother sauntered over to them. She nestled against his side and he caught a whiff of the flowery fragrance of her hair, stirring his senses, making him long to bury his head in those silky chestnut tresses as he had when they had made love. He tried to block the images of that night but they flashed up in his mind, causing his blood to pound and thicken, dragging at his lower body with a tight primal ache.

      Robbie swept his gaze over them with an elevation of his eyebrows. ‘Well, well, well, what have we here? Congratulations, Layla. You’ve landed yourself quite a catch. For a simple charwoman, that is.’

      Logan felt Layla stiffen beside him and he wanted to thump his brother for being such a snobbish jerk. He drew her closer to his side and sent his brother a warning look. ‘If you don’t treat my wife with respect you won’t be welcome here, Robert. Got that?’

      ‘Your wife?’ Robbie threw his head back and laughed. ‘You expect me to believe you two are the real deal?’

      ‘We have the documentation to prove it,’ Logan said. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse us. Layla is tired from travelling and—’

      ‘I bet you put the old man up to it,’ Robbie said, addressing Layla with a curl of his lip. ‘You’ve always had the hots for my big brother. But he would never have looked at you without some