Southern Hospitality (22 page)

“You were going to tell me about Reed.”

Thankfully, the highway was a fairly straight road that led directly into the city. She didn’t have to concentrate on her steering too much. “Was I?’

“Was it that bad?”

“No one likes to admit to being stupid. I met him when I was in college. We got engaged and were apart for a year,” Tory stated the facts in a rapid rush of words. She wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible, although she wasn’t sure she wanted to know where the conversation was leading. “I came back from Paris and discovered that we had nothing in common. Reed wanted me to play the brainless woman to his lord and master.”

“Not a very bright man,” Logan commented, the undercurrent of amusement returning.

“No, and he didn’t have much of a sense of humor either. He made one condescending remark too many about my intelligence at dinner one night. I’m afraid I let my temper get out of hand and poured a pitcher of beer over him.”

“How much beer was there?”

“It was about half full.”

“I don’t drink beer, Tory.”

“It’s just as well. I never repeat myself, even when I’m angry.”

“Don’t confuse me with your fiancé either. I think you’re an intelligent, beautiful woman.” His words were soft and dangerous. He was making love to her without even touching her. “We’re going to make love again, Tory Planchet. We’re good together, too good to let you deny what’s between us. It might take some time to convince you, but I will.”

She didn’t know what to say. His tone was gentle, almost caressing, making her start to melt inside, until she recognized the underlying demand. Why did men feel this arrogant need to assert themselves? Just because she’d fallen in love with him, didn’t mean Logan could tell her what to do.

Slowing the car, she decided to give Logan her opinion of the situation. Just as she was about to pull off the road, she realized there was a change in the atmosphere. The tension between them had dissipated somehow. She turned to look at Logan and discovered the reason. He was asleep.

Her immediate reaction was to wake him up and tell him once and for all that she wasn’t going to have an affair with him. She reconsidered a minute later. Let him sleep and give her some peace. A smile curved her lips by the time she reached the city limits. Could she really leave him sleeping in the car when she got back to the house? That might make him think twice about making smug, masculine demands.

Chapter Ten

Logan looked at his watch for the sixth or seventh time in the last ten minutes. Muttering under his breath, he began pacing the length of Tory’s living room again. Where was she? It was almost seven o’clock. She couldn’t still be at the shop. He gave vent to his frustration with a few choice words.

The day had been a total disaster as far as he was concerned—from the moment he woke up around eleven o’clock. He hated sleeping late, especially when it meant he’d missed catching Tory before she’d gone out. His mood wasn’t improved by only remembering bits and pieces of the ride home the previous night. The warmth of the car was relaxing after the hours spent outdoors had taken their toll, and he’d fallen asleep. What a way to impress the woman he loved.

Was Tory being elusive because of something he’d said during the ride? He didn’t remember much after asking about her fiancé, except her nudging him awake and shuffling up to bed. He’d been one step behind her all day, just missing her at the shop and returning to the house to discover she’d gone out again. Finally, he decided to stay in one place until she came home. Her cottage was the ideal place, if she ever came home.

Stalking into the dining alcove, he looked over the table once more. Everything was in place—china, silver, peach-colored candles, and the matching dozen roses in the center of the table. Maybe he should check on dinner again as well, although there wasn’t much he could do until Tory made an appearance. Everything was ready to put in the oven, once the guest of honor arrived. The sound of footsteps approaching the front door held him in place. Suddenly he wondered if he was doing the right thing, but it was too late with Tory walking in.

“What are you doing here?” she challenged, startled to find him standing in the doorway between the living room and the dining area.

“I figured you had a rough day today, so I’m putting all that good, courteous southern training to use,” he explained. Now that the waiting was over his confidence returned, allowing him to walk toward her with a slight swagger. From her expression, he couldn’t have done anything too incredibly stupid last night. “Let me take your jacket, then you sit down and put your feet up.”

She followed his instructions, but watched his every move. He smiled at her wary look when he returned from hanging her jacket in the hallway. She sat perched on the edge of the couch with her hands folded primly in her lap.

“That isn’t any way to relax,” he chided, walking to the armoire that concealed her television and stereo. Opening the door he flipped on the radio to the classical station he’d found earlier. “You look like one of those poker-stiff portraits of my ancestors that Mother insists on displaying at home. Sit back and put your feet up.”

“Logan, what’s going on?” she finally protested after he’d plumped the tasseled throw pillows and moved the needlepoint ottoman close to the couch. When he reached for her feet, she jerked away, tucking then safely under her. “Cut that out, and give me an explanation.”

Trying to look crestfallen at her peremptory order, he sat on the ottoman. “Arnette told me you were out all day getting your shop ready for tomorrow’s opening. Being a southerner in training, I had an inspiration. You shouldn’t have to do a thing for yourself tonight, so you’ll be nice and relaxed tomorrow morning.”

She tilted her head to the side and nibbled her lower lip. Suspicion lurked in the back of her eyes, but after a minute a tentative smile appeared. “Can I go change my clothes by myself? Please? I’ve been in the same outfit all day, hauling equipment, yelling at the staff, and cooking.”

“No problem. Your wish is my command,” he said easily, although he was tempted to offer to help her change. But he knew better than to press his luck. So far, so good. He was going to be as impersonal as his mother’s butler, at least for a while. “I’ll go pour you a glass of wine while you change.”

An hour later Tory dropped onto the couch with a sigh of contentment. “Logan, I think you might just have earned your southern diploma tonight. Dinner was wonderful.” Propping her slippered feet on the ottoman, she draped the skirt of her silk caftan over her legs and sat back among the pillows. “There was only a minor problem, but I think I can overlook it this one time.”

“A problem? Did I forget something?” He was puzzled, unable to think of anything he’d missed as he knelt to light the fire. Once the flames took hold, he served her a snifter of cognac with a flourish and settled himself on the floor in front of the couch at Tory’s feet.

“Nothing too serious. If you really want to impress me, don’t serve me food from one of my major competitors.” Her reprimand was softened by a chuckle. “Or at least hide the evidence better.”

“Guess I should have thrown out the boxes sooner,” he agreed, smiling ruefully over his shoulder. Silently he wondered how much longer he could maintain the pose of a lapdog. Ironically, Curtiss’s and Trevor’s advice yesterday didn’t seem too off the mark. Tory seemed to be responding to the gentlemanly approach. Why hadn’t any of his efforts worked until tonight? Maybe Trevor was right as well about Tory exaggerating her dislike of northerners.

“Don’t I get some points for working on a tight schedule? Besides, your shops aren’t open yet, so I had to play it by ear.”

“You have a point.”

With the matter settled, Logan didn’t bother to answer. The soft strains of Chopin filled the room as they sat in amicable silence. Logan allowed his mind to wander into a fantasy world. This was how it would be if he could persuade Tory to marry him. They’d sit at home, discussing what they’d done during the day. The children would be asleep, letting their parents have some quality time to themselves.

“Logan, did you happen to see any large pods out in the woods yesterday?”

“What?” Tory’s question jarred him out of his pleasant daydream just as he was about to carry his wife to bed. “Pods?”

“Didn’t you ever see
Invasion of the Body Snatchers?”

Giving her a curious look, he tried to think of the plot to the movie. Concentrating was hard with Tory so close, and so inviting. Her dark hair was loose around her shoulders, her maple-colored eyes slumberous and sparkling with suppressed laughter. The silk of her caftan lovingly outlined her small breasts, the zipper leading from the V-neck inviting him to explore. The invitation of her smile had his lower body tightening in response.

“Give up?” she teased, running her finger around the rim of her glass. Her smile widened when he nodded. “People who slept near the pods changed personalities. I thought you might have come across some during the rally.”

He stared at her, knowing the moment had arrived to give up his charade. Her smile wavered slightly as he reached for her glass. He placed it on the marble top of the coffee table along with his, then hoisted himself up on the couch next to Tory. This was what he’d wanted to do all night.

“You have to make up your mind, sweetheart. Which man do you want?” He spoke softly, draping his arm along the back of the couch. Moving slowly, he gently moved her hair back behind her ear, tracing the line of her jaw with the movement. “Do you want tonight’s polite eunuch, or this man?”

As his mouth closed over hers, Tory’s last thought was,
This man.
She allowed herself the magic of one kiss. One kiss couldn’t be so dangerous. They were both reasonable adults who could control their emotions. Then Logan gently coaxed her lips apart with the tip of his tongue.

She knew she should resist, but the sensations that he evoked were too tempting. It was just one kiss. Boldly she reached up to thread her fingers through his thick golden-brown hair. When he groaned deep in his throat, she dared to challenge his intimate invasion of her mouth. She began a passionate duel that had her sinking further into the world of pure sensation.

To her surprise, Logan broke the contact of their lips. But she wasn’t disappointed. His lips trailed over her cheek to explore the soft skin below her ear. Murmuring her approval, she leaned closer to the warmth of his hard body. She stroked the tense muscles of his back, wishing his shirt wasn’t covering the taut skin beneath.

“Now, isn’t that better than having some genderless fool hanging around?” he whispered, his warm breath setting off
a thousand tiny sparks within her.

For a moment, she couldn’t breathe. His tongue was tracing the outline of her ear. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

Logan pulled back. His eyes were a deep, stormy gray as they searched her face. She stroked the side of his face, the smooth skin telling her he’d shaved recently. The evidence of his preparation didn’t alarm her.

He turned slightly, his lips feathering over her palm before the tip of his tongue repeated the caress. “Would it be so terrible if I was?”

She had trouble remembering what they were talking about. Her mind seemed to be functioning in slow motion, but a small, inner voice warned her to be cautious. “Tonight I’m not sure.”

“Consider it a reward for a man going on a journey.” His finger skimmed over her jaw to trace the line of her throat to her collarbone. From there, he continued to explore new territory with the back of his fingers, settling in the shadowed valley of her cleavage.

“You’re going away?” Her voice sounded distant to her ears, but talking wasn’t high on her list of priorities at the moment. She was much more interested in the play of his clever fingers that were toying with the pull of her zipper.

“Yes, I’m going to Paris, Texas, tomorrow. There’s a rally next weekend, so I’m going to spend some time scouting out the countryside.”

The thought of him going away made the decision for Tory. She didn’t consider the contradiction of avoiding him for the past week while he was near at hand. Tonight would be the last time she would have any intimate contact with the man she’d inexplicably come to love in such a short amount of time. She wouldn’t deny herself the pleasure of one last night in his arms. It would be her farewell to something that couldn’t be, and much better to make a clear break now, instead of waiting until he returned to Boston.

She played with the button at the top of his shirt, dipping her fingers under the collar of his shirt to explore his warm skin and feeling the steady beat of his heart. She smiled at the sudden intake of his breath as she exerted pressure and his button slipped through the button hole.

“Are you going to make me do all the work?” She thrust out her lower lip. Watching him from the screen of her eyelashes, she dared him to continue his sensual assault.

She wasn’t prepared for Logan’s reaction. He jumped to his feet, scooping her up into his arms before she knew what was happening. Her arms looped around his neck in a tight grip as she wondered if they’d make it to the bedroom. Logan didn’t falter. Guided by the dim light of the hall, he set her back on her feet next to the bed.

Tory wasn’t sure what to do. She nervously twisted her hands together as Logan reached over to turn on the milk-glass lamp on the nightstand. Then he turned back to her, his hand reaching for her zipper. He hesitated for a moment. There was a questioning look on his face, giving him a vulnerability that was incongruous with his usual self-assurance.