On Wings Of Love. Ashley Summers

anticipation danced in his blood. And just what are you anticipating, Logan? he mocked. He checked his watch again. Almost ten o’clock. She’d had another long day.

      He stepped forward as she came into the house. They both stopped abruptly. An awkwardness hung between them that neither fully understood. All Thomas knew was that he was very glad to see her and the gladness tightened his throat unmercifully.

      “Hello,” she said, putting a hand on the newel post as if to show him she meant to go right upstairs.

      “Hi. How are you?”

      “Fine. And you?”

      “Fine. I’m fine. Never better,” he said.

      He began laughing, leaving her torn between annoyance and amusement. “You weren’t waiting up for me, were you?” she asked, tilting her head to look up at him.

      “No, I was just reading. I heard you come in so I thought I’d check and make sure you were okay. I mean, it is late.”

      “Yes, it is,” she agreed coolly.

      “Very late.” Thomas scowled, his self-irritation growing. Why was he acting like this? He’d never bothered worrying about any of his other guests. His sisters again, no doubt. Reining in his sudden wild urge to hug her, he went on with exaggerated dignity, “I’m overstepping again, so sue me. I was simply concerned that you might have difficulty finding your way here after dark. The roads are rather badly marked.”

      Katy was trying to be gracious, but his concern acted like a lash on sensitive skin. Damned if she would account for her time away from this house! She’d had enough of that from her husband. He had needed to control her every action...

      But this was Thomas, Katy thought, jerking herself back to the present. And he did have a point. “I’m sorry, Thomas, I do appreciate your concern.” She sighed. Why did she feel she had just yielded something with her soft apology? “Actually, I did take a couple of wrong turns. But I’m here now. I wonder, would you have any of those raspberries left? The ones you were bringing in yesterday when I arrived.”

      Was it only yesterday? she thought with a small shock. It seemed much longer. “I didn’t have dessert tonight and I’d like some to nibble on in my room.”

      “There are a few left.” Turning, he led the way to the kitchen.

      Katy stopped beside him as he opened the refrigerator and suddenly found herself caught between him and the counter. Her nerves jumped as their eyes met. She felt too warm. Warmth quickly turned to heat. His gaze fell to her lips. He shifted, closer somehow and her heart was pounding.

      He didn’t touch her, but he might as well have. The sensation was there, on her skin, in the palms of his hands.

      He didn’t kiss her, but he could taste the kiss, imagine mouth meeting mouth, body meeting body.

      Hard to soft, masculinity to femininity. Desire licked at his skin like little tongues of flame.

      His eyes deepened, intense and hot.

      She wondered if hers were dark with the smoke of her own desire. If they were, she couldn’t help it.

      She was angry. Angry at him for being so attractive. Angry at herself for being so drawn to him. She refused to shrink back against the counter. Instead, she stood her ground, meeting his gaze steadily, defiantly.

      It was the defiance that got to Thomas. She looked as crushable as an eggshell, yet that pointed chin was stuck firmly in the air. A sneaky little worm of shame curled in his gut. Logan, you ass, you must have the worst case of lust in the whole damn world.

      Expelling a long breath, he shifted his gaze, took out the berries and shut the refrigerator door. At least he’d put a name to what ailed him. That always made a man feel better. He stepped away from her and reached for a smaller bowl.

      “I nearly kissed you,” he said matter-of-factly.

      She cleared her throat. “I know.”

      “What would you have done if I had?”

      “Stopped you.”

      His eyes challenged. “Would you?”

      “Yes.” Katy leaned against the counter and regarded him with quick, sparkling mischief. “Going a few rounds with the island’s resident Lothario isn’t on my agenda tonight.”

      Amusement tugged at his mouth. “Now who have you been talking to?” he chided, eyes twinkling. “Patsy? I swear, that woman’s convinced I have a regular harem stashed on the island.”

      She arched an eyebrow. “And you don’t?”

      “No, I believe in quality not quantity,” Thomas retorted with an easy shrug. “Your raspberries, ma’am.” He swept a hand toward the table. “Here, sit down here and eat them,” he invited like the gentleman he was most of the time.

      Becoming aware of the warm, easy intimacy that had crept between them, Katy felt a stab of alarm. “Thank you, but I’m about all talked out after spending the day with Patsy,” she confided. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to eat them in my room.”

      “Sure.” He handed her the small bowl of berries.

      She took them, her smile suddenly shy. “Thanks again, Thomas, for the berries, and for caring. I really am grateful, even if—” her nose wrinkled “—I don’t act like it sometimes. I just don’t like answering to anyone, I guess. Well, good night.”

      “Good night, Katy,” he said huskily.

      Controlling her urge to flee from those discerning blue eyes, Katy strolled to the staircase, and ascended the carpeted risers with slightly more speed.

      She wanted to shrug it off. All of it, him, the kiss she’d craved despite her denial, the excitement still rocketing through her bloodstream.

      The tender yearning in her heart.

      “Impossible!” she whispered.

      She wondered if he had flown today. Just imagining him up there, his beautiful body encrusted to the fragile fabric of a plane, his very life at risk... She shuddered, her mind caught and held in memory’s harsh grasp.

      Gradually, the evening’s drowsy silence stole around her like a soft cashmere cloak. Katy sat down on the window seat and closed her eyes, marveling at the complexity of her feelings. Before coming here—or before meeting Thomas Logan, she amended—she could pinpoint her emotions with deadly accuracy.

      Right now they were as wildly tangled as a cat’s ball of yarn.

      Three

      For the second morning in a row, Katy was up early to have breakfast with Patsy. She showered and dressed with equal haste. Slinging a tote over her shoulder, she ran downstairs. But this time, unlike yesterday, the sound of her footsteps brought Thomas from the kitchen.

      “Katy, wait a minute,” he said, and caught her arm.

      Her skin felt the heat of his fingers. Just his touch set her heart beating faster. For an instant, Katy felt outraged; she simply wasn’t used to reacting this strongly to a man, and why didn’t he stop it, whatever it was!

      Her mouth quirked with quick self-humor. “Good morning to you, too, Thomas.”

      He laughed. “Good morning, Katy.”

      The excitement his nearness created made her breath catch. Realizing how much she liked this man was another hindrance to normal breathing. Well, she’d liked her ex-husband, too, at first, Katy reminded herself. A gifted actor as well as an exciting, charismatic hunk whose bedroom eyes promised heaven on earth for the right woman, Rhys had played his role well, the tender, caring quintessential male. But she’d soon found out that what she liked went no deeper than the beguiling twist of facial muscles that passed for his smile.

      She’d