continued to look at him determinedly. ‘Will you introduce me to your mother, or do I have to find some other way of meeting her?’
‘Why can’t you just accept that it’s over?’ Logan demanded. ‘And be grateful that it is!’
‘Will you?’ she persisted stubbornly, totally ignoring his words.
He stood up abruptly. ‘No, I will not!’ he roared. ‘Why can’t you just leave the situation alone? My mother will carry on acting, your father will get over his disappointment, and you—’
‘I won’t rest until I’ve talked to your mother!’ Her eyes flashed up at him.
Logan stared down at her frustratedly for several long seconds. She really was the most stubborn—
As stubborn as he was himself…?
Probably, he acknowledged ruefully, his anger starting to fade. If Darcy really was serious about meeting his mother—and it appeared she definitely was!—then wouldn’t it be better if he were present when the two met?
Most definitely!
‘Okay,’ he conceded frustratedly. ‘I’ll speak to my mother some time tomorrow and see if she’s willing to meet you. Will that satisfy you?’ It was as far as he was willing to go, so it had better suit her!
Darcy’s answer to that was to smile.
At which point Logan felt that sledgehammer hitting his chest, again totally taking his breath away!
‘Thank you, Logan,’ Darcy said with warm gratitude before standing up. ‘Can I get you some more coffee?’ she offered politely.
‘Coffee…?’ he echoed in what sounded like a strangulated voice.
She turned from filling the kettle, brows arched. ‘Unless you have to leave now?’
Normally she was very tired when she returned from working in the restaurant, but tonight she was too hyped after the evening’s activities to be able to go straight to bed, and would need a couple of cups of coffee and a short read before feeling she would be able to sleep. But obviously Logan hadn’t had the same stimulus.
He did look rather grim, however. No doubt because of her determination to meet his mother. But she couldn’t help that, felt it was something she needed to do.
Although, in the last few minutes, she had had to do some revising of her earlier opinions concerning Logan’s relationship with his mother. She had assumed Logan didn’t want her father to marry his mother because he wasn’t good enough for her. Logan’s comments since arriving back here implied something else completely; he didn’t like his mother. Which to Darcy was awful. How could he not like his own mother? And if Logan didn’t like her, what chance did she have of doing so…?
‘Logan?’ she prompted worriedly as he still made no effort to answer her. Just stared at her with those dark blue eyes…
He stepped forward, standing only inches away from her now. ‘What the hell is it about you?’ he muttered angrily.
Darcy gave him a startled look. ‘What?’
Logan shook his head self-disgustedly. ‘Every time you smile I want to kiss you.’
Her eyes widened even more, and she was too stunned by the admission to step back as he pulled her effortlessly into his arms, anything she might have wanted to say dying in her throat as Logan’s mouth claimed hers.
He might feel an urge to kiss her every time she smiled, but every time he did she melted! Her legs became like jelly, the soft contours of her body melded into his much harder ones, her lips parting invitingly as the kiss deepened.
Her hands moved up to grasp the width of his shoulders. Not that she was in danger of falling; Logan was holding her much too tightly against him for that to happen. She just liked the feel of Logan, the hard strength of his body, the caress of his hands against her.
Hands that moved restlessly across her back, and lower spine, before searching out the soft pertness of her breasts, Darcy gasping low in her throat as he sought and found the hardened tips, the caress of his thumbs sending pleasure coursing through her whole body.
Logan broke the kiss, his lips against her throat now, tongue seeking the hollows at its base as he moved aside the material of her blouse, his breath warm against her breasts.
Darcy was burning, yearning, wanted—she wanted this never to stop!
Logan’s lips and tongue touched the creamy softness of her breasts, his hands trembling slightly as they moved to unbutton the front of her blouse, peeling the garment aside once he had done so, the clasp of her bra easily dispensed with too.
There was a slight flush in Logan’s cheeks as he looked down at her nakedness. ‘You are so beautiful!’ he groaned achingly, his hands cupping her breasts as his lips moved down to kiss each rosy tip, his tongue moving moistly against the aching hardness.
Darcy felt weak with desire, her body hot and feverish, trembling so badly now she could barely stand up. She wanted this man. Wanted him naked against her, wanted to feel the hard planes of his body, to caress him as he was her.
But the first feel of her fingers moving against his shirt buttons seemed to break the spell for Logan, one of his hands moving to clasp both of hers even as he moved slightly away from her.
Darcy looked up at him, her eyes dark with passion, questioning why he had stopped her.
‘This is not a good idea,’ he grated, moving sharply away from her, bending to pick up her blouse, not even looking at her as he held the garment out to her.
Darcy grabbed the blouse, consternation washing over her in embarrassed waves.
What was she doing?
With her acquiescence, it had taken Logan exactly—she glanced at the clock on the wall—ten minutes—to have half her clothes off.
What on earth must he think of her? A couple of hours ago she had been hurling verbal abuse at him, and yet just now—just now—Oh, dear!
‘I think I had better go.’ Logan spoke, his expression weary as he ran a hand through the thick darkness of his hair. ‘I—I’m sorry, Darcy,’ he added tersely.
He was sorry?
Darcy wasn’t sure she would ever be able to look him in the face again! Logan had kissed her as she had never been kissed before, caressed her as she had never been caressed before, touched her as she had never been touched before. He had seen her semi-naked, for goodness’ sake!
‘I really am sorry, Darcy,’ he repeated heavily.
Her blouse was back on, the buttons firmly fastened. After that first glance at the grimness of his expression, Darcy found she couldn’t look at him, found herself looking anywhere but at Logan.
‘Maybe you should just go,’ she suggested, staring unseeingly at the tiled floor.
‘Yes.’
But he
