His Heart's Revenge (The Marshall Brothers Series, Book 2) (43 page)

"I cannot change what happened to you in Andersonville. I cannot make it right or make it up. But I am damned if I am going to suffer any more at your hands because I did not let you die!" She brushed past him and walked quickly out of the room.

* * *

After giving Victoria her night feeding and putting her to bed, Katy got her own bedclothes and took them to the kitchen, where she prepared a bath for herself. Dragging in the copper tub from the back porch, Katy filled it with hot water and bath salts and had a long soak.

When Katy returned to her bedroom and stood on the threshold, Logan was half-sitting, half-leaning on the windowsill, his back supported by the window. His long legs were stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles, and in his hands he held a black lacquered box.

"Why have you kept this?" he asked.

Katy dropped her clothes on the bed and tightened the sash of her dressing gown. "You had no right to go through my things. What were you looking—"

"This," he said. "I was looking for this. I wondered if you still had it. I noticed it before in your hotel suite. You did not have it hidden away then."

"Kindly remove yourself from my room."

Logan pushed away from the sill and took a step toward the bed. He opened up the box and dropped the contents on the coverlet. Out fell a kerchief, a spool of blue thread, two needles, a lice comb, chalk, six marbles, a watch fob, a razor-sharp spoon, and a deck of cards. "Except for the cards, which you gave me, this represents the sum total of my existence in Libby Prison," he told her. "This box was the most important thing I owned. I think I would have murdered any man there who tried to take it away from me." He dropped the box and picked up the marbles, rolling them back and forth in his palm. "Six marbles. I would have killed to keep two glassies and four aggies. Can you imagine any man's life being worth only six marbles? Why did you keep the box all these years, Katy?"

Stricken by the gentle appeal in his voice, Katy looked away. "If you will leave my bedroom, then I will." She turned on her heel and went to the hallway linen cupboard. After taking out a pillow and two blankets, she went to the stairway and started down the steps.

Logan stopped her when she was almost at the bottom, pinning her to the wall. Her hair was still damp from her bath and she hadn't yet braided it for bed. It was seldom that he ever saw her with her hair unbound. Honey-colored tendrils brushed her cheeks and fell softly against her neck. Just looking at Katy, her beautiful eyes searching his face, her lips, pink and parted, Logan felt the return of an all-too-familiar ache.

The narrow stairway was dimly lit and the bowed steps made their balance precarious at best, but these were secondary considerations to Logan now. He tore the pillow and blankets from her arms and pressed his body to hers, holding Katy's wrists at her sides. "Why must you make everything so difficult?" he asked, his voice husky.

Katy ducked her head to one side, trying to avert Logan's mouth. She felt his lips on her cheek, her ear. He accepted the long line of her neck as though she had offered it to him. The touch of his mouth on her throat made her whimper weakly and close her eyes. She tried to push him away and found that his hold was secure. "No, Logan," she whispered. "Please don't do this to me."

"What am I doing to you?" His mouth slid to the hollow of her throat. His tongue made a damp line from there to the neckline of her gown.

There was a trace of despair in her voice. "You are making me want you again." She tried to shake him off.

Logan held her firmly but carefully pulled her with him as he sat on the steps. "Is that so horrible?" His teeth tugged at the shoulder of her robe and nightgown.

"No... yes..." Her breath came in a short sob. "What are you doing?" She felt his warm breath on her bare shoulder, then his mouth. The rough pad of his tongue scraped her skin with its delicious heat.

"Tasting you," he said. Her skin was smooth and pale as cream. Her hair brushed his cheek and the fragrance excited his senses. Logan groaned softly. "Do you hate it?"

"I want to hate it." Which was not the same thing at all, she thought miserably. She bent her head and found the tip of his ear with her mouth. Her tongue traced the curve.

Logan raised his head. He searched out her eyes, held them. "Oh, God, Katy," he murmured. Then his mouth found hers and he kissed her with bruising passion. She opened her lips to him and gave him the deep, hungry kiss he sought. His hands eased up on her wrists, and he felt her fingers slowly climb the length of his arms until they circled his neck and threaded at the back of his head. She pressed him closer, and when the feverish kiss broke, it was Katy who pulled him back.

Logan's heartbeat thundered in his chest. He pressed his hands at the small of Katy's back and tried to bring her body flush to his. He heard her wince and let her go. The huskiness in his voice didn't mask his concern. "Did I hurt you?"

Katy was equally breathless. "The step... my hip..."

"Up?" he asked, thinking of bed.

"Down," she said. "We're closer."

Logan stood, grabbing a blanket in one hand and Katy in the other. He pulled her down the last few steps and into the parlor. There was a lamp burning on one end of the table. Its light was sufficient for Logan to see the proof of his kisses on Katy's mouth. He folded her in the circle of his arms and pressed another kiss to her lips.

She helped him out of his clothes, eager to feel the smoothly sculpted muscles of his back and chest with her fingertips, with her mouth. Her nightshift and robe were discarded as well.

He simply stared at her, taut with need. Her cool beauty and the passionate promise of her eyes blended into a single vision. He could not imagine wanting her more. His hands cupped her face, and when her mouth parted and her lower lip trembled, he bent his head until he was touching her. He strove for tenderness and quickly realized he could not deliver. He lowered her to the floor and rolled so that he was supporting her. Pulling her close, his hands gliding over her skin, Logan encouraged her to take the same license.

Katy did so willingly, aching with her own needs. He whispered in raw, husky tones that he wanted her, had always wanted her. The pleasure of listening to him was enough for her for a time. He guided her hands to his waist, then lower, between his legs. She cupped him and slowly moved down his body, making a trail with the moist edge of her tongue. She pleasured him with her mouth the way he had once pleasured her and only stopped because of his rough command that she do so.

Startled, afraid she had done something wrong, she warily searched Logan's face when he turned and hovered over her. The planes of his face were hard with self-denial and she understood then that far from being displeased with her, he was balancing anticipation and frustration.

Katy's hands rested lightly on his shoulders. Her thighs parted at the first nudging of his knee. "Come in me now," she urged him.

"You are not—"

"Yes, I am."

She was ready for him. Logan buried his face against the curve of her neck as he thrust into her. She took all of him and the heat generated by his caresses seemed to scorch her. Her sensitive breasts created heat and tension in her whenever he touched them. His body rocked against hers and Katy's hips rose and fell in response to the rhythm of his thrusts. Her nails dug into his shoulders, and the tiny sounds of pleasure and need that came to her lips drove him harder and faster.

Their bodies glistened in the lamplight and his dark hair mingled with the honey of hers. She climaxed first, as he had intended, and cried out her satisfaction when she cried out his name. Katy arched, pushing herself against Logan, meeting his thrusts until the tension in every line of his body collapsed under the impact of his shuddering pleasure.

Katy thought their breathing sounded too loud in the stillness of the room. Beneath her the floor was incredibly hard, and Logan's leg felt very heavy where it lay across hers. "Oh, God," she said mournfully, staring at the ceiling.

Logan slipped an arm under her head, cradling her. His bare toes nudged the blanket he had carried into the room. He slid it toward him until he could reach it with his hand, then he opened it up and placed it over Katy's flushed, perspiring body. She accepted the covering without comment. Logan saw a sheen of tears in her eyes. As he watched, she tried to blink them away, and failing that, one slid past the corner of her eye, past her temple, and disappeared in her hair.

"I don't know if it will help," Logan said quietly. "But wanting is not enough for me either. I love you, Katy."

Chapter 12

"You don't have to pretty it up," Katy whispered. Her throat felt thick with tears. She swallowed hard and wiped impatiently at her eyes with the heel of her hands. "I am not crying rape."

"God!" The single word exploded from him with soft menace. "You make me want to crawl under a rock when you talk like that. Am I really so vile? Will I have to forego touching you the rest of our lives because you are ashamed of what you feel?"

"Why shouldn't I be ashamed? The first time you came to me, you made certain I knew how deeply you despised me—and I still responded to you. Later, on the day of my husband's funeral, I went to your home and betrayed his memory by giving myself to you. And yesterday—it was only yesterday, Logan—you stepped in here with your demands, your threats, and your questions, and I stood up to everything except your touch. How is that supposed to make me feel?"

Logan's fingers twisted in the soft, curling tendrils of her hair. "Doesn't it make any difference that I love you?" he asked.

She looked at him with sad, rebellious eyes. "Why should it if I don't love you?"

Logan's cheeks puffed slightly as he exhaled a lungful of air. He was silent for a long time. Finally, he said, "You are not satisfied with plunging the knife in, are you? You make certain you twist it." He eased his arm out from under Katy and sat up, pushing the blanket toward her. He grabbed his trousers, stood, and jammed his legs into them. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Katy sit up slowly, draw the blanket around her like a cocoon, and press her forehead against her folded knees. She was trembling, alone suddenly and afraid. Frowning, Logan turned and stared down at the crown of her bent head. Then he staked his soul on the hope that she had just lied to him.

"Katy... why did you keep the box all these years?" he asked gently, hunkering down beside her.

She did not look at him. She couldn't. The fight had drained out of her, and she heard herself answering his question honestly. "It was all I... all I had left of you."

Her eyes were closed, her lashes spiky with tears. "I have loved you for such a long, long time." She swiped at her tears and darted a glance at him. Her smile was self-mocking. "You carried me away from Stone Hollow on your horse. That was not... was not fair of you, Logan. I was twelve years old. You were my knight, my dragon slayer. How was I not supposed to fall in love?"

"Oh, Katy." His smile was infinitely tender. He remembered a young girl with flyaway braids, a frank, open stare, and a giggle that invariably made him smile.

"Did you know then?" she asked.

"No" he said. "I didn't know."

She sighed, relieved. "I was so afraid you would guess the truth," she said quietly. "When you were around, I followed you everywhere... I could not seem to help myself."

"I didn't mind. I liked you, Katy."

"Not quite the same thing. I loved you."

"Have your feelings changed?" he asked.

The admission came as if torn from her. There was pain in her voice. "A dozen times since then."

"And?" Logan held his breath.

"And I always come back to loving you."

Logan dropped to his knees and pulled Katy into the circle of his arms. His mouth rested against her hair. "Oh, Katy... Katy. Why did you lie to me before? Why keep it from me?"

She drew back stiffly, moving out of his embrace. Her eyes were unhappy. "Because I do not want to love you." Keeping the blanket protectively about her, Katy stood. "Victoria and I were making our own way without you. It has been almost a year since I last saw you, Logan. Don't you see? We were doing all right." She thought she would say more, but nothing occurred to her. Either he would understand or he wouldn't. Ducking her head, she left the room and quietly mounted the stairs.