Sarah Morgan Summer Collection. Sarah Morgan
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Kirsty beamed and waved. ‘Byee-ee.’
‘Oh!’ Evanna gasped with delight. ‘I didn’t know she’d learned that!’
‘Now, don’t you go being soppy about her—she’s a cheeky monkey. And she knows exactly how to get round you.’ Meg slipped her bag onto her shoulder and made for the door. ‘Have a good afternoon. Pop in for an ice cream if you feel like it. I’ll make her one of my specials.’
Evanna waited for the door to close behind her and then settled down on the floor next to Kirsty, who was rubbing her eyes. ‘You’ve had a busy morning. Are you tired, pickle? Where’s your blanket?’ She looked around for the little pink blanket that Kirsty always slept with and spotted it lying over the back of a chair. ‘Let’s take you up to bed and see if you feel like a nap.’
She changed Kirsty’s nappy, gave her a drink of milk and then settled her in the cot with her blanket. Immediately Kirsty’s eyes drifted shut.
‘Creating trouble for Meg obviously wore you out,’ Evanna murmured with amusement, creeping out of the room and leaving the door open a crack.
She glanced longingly at the bathroom but then decided she may as well tidy the house before she finally had the wash she’d been fantasising about for hours.
For the next hour she worked like a demon. She neatly stacked all Logan’s medical journals, she scooped clothes from the floor and put them in the washing machine, she tidied and scrubbed the kitchen until all the surfaces were gleaming, she mopped the floor, ran the dishwasher and emptied all the bins.
Then she threw open all the doors and windows to air the place. Logan’s house was lovely, she reflected as she plumped the cushions on his soft, comfortable sofa. So airy and light. It was a little further from the beach than hers, but she loved the space and all the windows and she adored his garden. As well as the weeping willow there were four huge apple trees that provided plenty of dappled shade. A large white hammock was strung between two of the trees and a children’s book and several toys were lying abandoned on the grass. Logan had obviously been out there with Kirsty. Evanna looked at the hammock longingly. Later, she promised herself. Maybe she and Kirsty would curl up in the hammock to read books.
She chopped vegetables ready to add to the casserole that she planned to make later and then looked at the clock. Kirsty had been asleep for an hour and a half.
Feeling horribly hot and sticky after her efforts on the house, Evanna dragged her forearm over her forehead and decided to check on the child.
She crept upstairs and peeped around the door but the little girl was still fast asleep, the tip of her thumb in her mouth.
Evanna closed the door again and decided that she just about had time for a quick shower before the toddler woke up. Then she’d make the casserole for supper. She could give it to Kirsty for tea and Logan would be able to eat the remains when he finished work.
She walked into the bathroom that she’d cleaned earlier. Oh, the bliss of not having to pick her way through rubble! Swiftly she stripped off her clothes and stepped under Logan’s state-of-the-art power shower. Five minutes. That was all it would take. And, by then, Kirsty should be ready to wake up.
Logan opened the front door and walked into his house. Bracing himself for the usual noise and activity, he was surprised to find the house silent. Then he remembered Evanna mentioning that she might take Kirsty to the beach.
The morning post was neatly stacked on the hall table and he could see at a glance that both the kitchen and the living room were immaculate. Meg had already called him to apologise for the fact that she hadn’t managed to touch any of the housework, thanks to the demands of his daughter, so he knew that only one person could be responsible for the sudden transformation of his house.
Evanna.
She must have cleaned for him. She was a born nurturer, he thought as he noticed the polished kitchen floor and the vegetables chopped ready for a casserole. Always caring for people whether she was on or off duty. Feeling a twist of guilt, he ignored the post and walked upstairs towards his bedroom. He’d just find the textbook he needed, make himself a cup of tea and then get back to the surgery and tackle the mountain of paperwork that awaited him.
As he reached the top of the stairs, the bathroom door opened and Evanna walked out.
Naked.
And dripping wet.
Logan stared and then he almost swallowed his tongue.
Her legs were long and slender, her hips wonderfully curved and her breasts full and crowned by rosy pink nipples which glistened with drops of water from the shower.
‘Evanna!’ He croaked out her name and she froze to the spot and her eyes widened and locked with his.
For a long, pulsing moment they both stood. Staring.
The atmosphere crackled with tension and then she came to her senses, gave a squeak of horror and looked around desperately for something to cover herself up with, but there was nothing. ‘I forgot to grab a towel—I—I was—You can’t look—Logan!’ Her voice was tortured with embarrassment as she glared at him. ‘Stop looking at me! It’s not very gentlemanly.’
Gentlemanly?
At any other time Logan would have laughed at her use of such an old-fashioned word but he was too busy being thoroughly ungentlemanly to respond. In fact, he didn’t really know what he was doing. His brain had ceased coherent thought and his eyes were definitely under independent rule. It wasn’t until she moved her hands down to cover herself that he realised his gaze had been firmly fixed on the tempting shadows between her legs.
All the oxygen seemed to have been sucked out of the air and Logan suddenly couldn’t breathe properly.
She was still trying to shield herself with her hands but he already had an all too clear image of her lush feminine curves imprinted on his brain.
He’d known Evanna for his whole life and he’d thought that he knew everything there was to know about her. He knew that she was kind, endlessly patient and had a good sense of humour. He knew how she liked her coffee, he knew that she liked to run and swim. He knew that at school she’d been top in English but hopeless at maths. She was his sister’s best friend and he knew her well. Really, really well. Up until today he would have said that there was nothing about Evanna that he didn’t know.
So why hadn’t he known that she had a body straight out of a hot male fantasy?
Gripped by lust, he closed his eyes briefly to try and erase the image and dragged a towel from the cupboard.
‘Here …’ His voice hoarse, he clutched the towel, intending to hand it to her and move away, but he couldn’t prevent himself from taking one more look and then found he couldn’t stop looking. The creamy skin of her shoulder and the tempting swell of her breasts were more addictive than any drug.
She had fantastic breasts.
Had she always had those breasts or had she suddenly grown them?
Why had he never noticed her breasts before?
Jabbing