Summer Magic (11 page)

“Your husband. He’s breathtaking,” Elaine whispered.
“I should tell you first before you hear from some other woman. He’s the talk of the island. I’m certain you know he ate at Addie’s the first night you arrived, and a few of the single women just about shamed themselves when they began flirting with him. I can assure you that he was very polite and refused to sit with them.”

Caryn’s gaze measured Logan with his approach. She had to agree with Elaine. Logan was breathtaking. He claimed a dark masculine beauty which afforded him a potent sensual quality. This winning combination made it a certainity women would try to come on to him with his arresting face and exquisitely proportioned powerful body. He had elected to wear white: jeans, deck shoes, and a V-neck cotton pullover with a narrow red and navy-blue border along the neckline, cuffs, and hem.

She compressed her lips. And he was a fine one to talk. He’d accused her of flirting with men while he had to fight off women who saw nothing wrong with trying to pick him up in a restaurant. Well, an outdoor island-wide celebration was very different from a restaurant setting, and only time would tell how successful he would be at this venue or if he would require her assistance.

Elaine gave Logan a sensual smile. “Something smells very good under that cover.”

“Spareribs,” he replied.

“Hmm-mm. One of my favorite.” Leaning over a table, she wrote down
SPARERIBS
above the printed words
DONATED BY
on a small place card. “What are your full names?”

“Logan and Caryn Edwards,” she answered smoothly. Without moving, Logan lowered his eyelids slowly in a gesture of gratitude and flashed a sly wink.

“What else are you two donating?”

Caryn gave Elaine the information while Logan took his tray to where an elderly bearded man directed him outside the tent.

At exactly twelve noon all of Marble Island gathered under the large tent and bowed their head as the minister
of the nondemoninational church led the assembled in a benediction, followed by the Pledge of Allegiance and the national anthem.

The Shelton twins, Chris Barnett, and Randy Bell had volunteered to serve the attendees, and Caryn smiled and exchanged words with each of them as she filled her plate with Logan’s spareribs, small portions of potato salad, Addie’s cole slaw, one of her own leek and bacon knots, and a thin slice of her cheese and chive braided bread.

Tables groaned under platters of fried chicken, whole honey-roasted hams, flaky crab cakes, tender corn on the cob, relishes, salsa, fluffy biscuits, rich buttered corn bread, gumbo, varieties of fish including golden-fried catfish, black-eyed peas, and appetizers offering egg rolls, spicy chicken strips, deep-fried dill pickle chips, and okra. A table set up only for desserts elicited everyone’s attention, but would remain untouched for several hours.

A knowing smile curved Caryn’s mouth as she sat beside Logan and watched two young women sit down opposite them. It was apparent these were the two who had approached him at Addie’s. Both were young and extremely attractive African-American women. The taller had affected a short natural hairdo which showed off the perfection of her balanced features and flawless brown skin, while the other claimed a profusion of gray-streaked hair she had styled in a becoming wedge-cut.

The shorter woman extended her hand, smiling. “Shevonne Wilson.”

Logan shook the proffered hand. “Logan.” He withdrew his hand, at the same time curving an arm around Caryn’s shoulders. “I’d like to introduce my wife, Caryn Edwards.”

The introduction was accomplished so smoothly, Caryn’s shock mirrored the startled expressions on the faces of the two women. It was one thing to let people assume they were married, but another to openly lie about it.

Recovering quickly, the other woman glanced down at their ringless fingers. “Mandisa Leonard,” she said around a forced grin.

“Are you two from around here?” Caryn questioned, picking up a glass of ice-cold lemonade.

“No. We’re from New York City,” Shevonne replied. “Do you guys live on Marble Island?”

Logan shook his head. “Not year-round. We’re here on vacation.”

“Do you intend to spend the entire summer here?” Mandisa’s gaze was fixed on Logan even though she had addressed Caryn.

“Yes,” Logan answered. “How about yourselves?”

“We only have another week,” Shevonne said, scowling.

Caryn flashed a knowing smile. “Try to enjoy every minute.”

Shevonne nodded. “That’s what we’ve been trying to do.”

Sure you have
, Caryn thought.
And with my housemate, no less
. But what the two women did not know was that Logan Prescott was not interested in becoming involved with any woman, no matter how attractive she was.

Logan stood up, the fingers of his left hand curving around Caryn’s neck. “Can I get you anything else, sweetheart?”

Smiling up at him, she shook her head. “No, darling.”

He smiled at Shevonne and Mandisa. “Ladies?”

Mandisa shook her head while Shevonne handed Logan her plate. “If there are any more ribs left, I’ll take a few.”

Logan’s spareribs were the talk of the afternoon. His special sauce was sweet and spicy, while the meat was so tender it literally fell off the bone. She had sampled a few after he’d finished grilling them and requested he hold back half a rack. He’d wiped away smudges of sauce from her cheeks, grinning broadly, then showed her a full rack he’d placed in the freezer.

Randy Bell joined them at their table, along with the others who had volunteered to serve, and the energy level escalated considerably. Everyone was given the opportunity to tell a joke, and Caryn had to search her memory to tell one successfully without giving away the punch line.

She and Logan found themselves at different tables every hour throughout the afternoon, as it was a mandated Marble Island Independence Day ritual to acquaint themselves with all of the permanent and vacationing residents.

Around seven many of the younger parents left, taking their youngsters and toddlers home as the sun began its slow descent. A DJ arrived and set up his equipment under the tent, while a clean-up committee made quick work of removing discarded food and other debris, while Caryn marveled at how quickly the time had passed.

Glancing down at her blue and white striped cotton slacks, she winced. They were stained with a variety of foodstuffs, while her white blouse was covered with smudges of chocolate from a brownie held by a toddler who had crawled onto her lap. Shrugging a shoulder, she realized it was too late to go back to the house and change.

The familiar strands of a popular ballad came through the powerful speakers, followed by the distinctive mellifluent voice of Frank Sinatra singing “Witchcraft.”

Caryn felt heat behind her, and she inhaled the now familiar fragrance of the aftershave belonging to the man with whom she was sharing a house. Closing her eyes, she leaned back against his chest, humming softly. His arm circled her waist, holding her firmly.

“You’re a very smooth liar, Logan.” Her soft voice feathered around him like a cloaking fog.

“And so are you, Caryn,” he countered. “Logan Edwards?”

She chuckled softly. “And I suppose that makes us even?”

“For me it does. Now, may I have this dance,
wife?
”

Turning slowly, she studied his smiling face. “Yes, you may,
husband
.”

Taking her hand, he led her out of the tent and onto the grassy lawn. He pulled her against his body, molding her to his length. She closed her eyes, melting into his strength. Other couples joined in the dancing as a magical
curtain descended on Marble Island and all who inhabited it.

“Thank you for not revealing who I am,” he whispered close to her ear.

“You’re welcome,” she whispered back. “I’m usually not such an accomplished liar, but I didn’t know what else to say when Elaine asked your full name. And I suppose perpetuating the lie came in handy because you were about to be plucked royally by two Big Apple divas.”

Pulling back, he squinted down at her. “What are you talking about?”

“Shevonne and Mandisa. They want you.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “They don’t want me.”

“Don’t they, Logan?”

“No, they don’t.”

“Are you blind? Didn’t you see Miss Mandisa Leonard eat you up with her eyes?”

Tightening his grip on her waist, he pulled her closer. “No,” he repeated in a quiet tone. “I can’t even remember what she looks like.”

He’d told her the truth. In fact, he hadn’t paid much attention to any of the women on the island except the one in his arms. Introducing her as his wife had come as natural as breathing. And it was after the words were out, he’d wondered if his life would’ve taken a different turn if he’d been engaged to Caryn instead of Nina. Would she also have proven herself unfaithful?

And for the first time he questioned his own behavior and what he had done or not done to elicit fidelity from a woman. Had he been too involved in his work? Had she blamed him for not seeing her more often? Or had he not offered her what she needed for total sexual gratification?

A switch was flipped, and the string of bulbs ringing the open field illuminated the entire area with a soft glow as the Sinatra ballad segued into another one featuring the velvet voice of Nat King Cole.

Caryn lost track of time as she and Logan danced to a continuous string of ballads, she following his expert lead.
The tempo of the music changed, becoming more upbeat the later the hour, and both agreed it was time they headed back to the house.

Yawning delicately behind her hand, she leaned back on the seat in the Jeep and closed her eyes. The night air was warm and humid as it feathered over her face in the open vehicle.

Logan drove slowly and turned off the main road onto Watermelon Patch Lane, pulling into the driveway of the last house on the dead-end street alongside Caryn’s parked car. He shut off the engine, then came around to help her out.

Her arms circled his neck as he lifted her gently and carried her up to the house. He loathed putting her down, but was forced to when he had to retrieve the key.

The porch lights shadowed her features as she turned to him. “Thank you for a wonderful day, Logan.”

He turned the key in the lock. “I should be the one thanking you.” Pushing open the door, he reached for a button on the wall and flooded the second-story hallway with light.

Caryn felt a foreign urgency to escape the man standing a few feet away from her. She’d spent the past sixteen hours with him, eating together, dancing together, and pretending to be his wife. Now, they were behind closed doors and there was no need for the pretense. She could be who she was and he who he was—Caryn Edwards and Logan Prescott.

“Good night,” she mumbled softly as she made her way toward the stairs.

Taking three long strides, Logan was beside her. His fingers closed around her upper arm, tightening slightly when she tried freeing herself.

Holding her and making her his prisoner, he pulled her to his chest, his head lowering with a deliberate slowness. “Good night,” he whispered, his hot mouth covering hers and robbing her of her breath and her will.

This kiss was different from the others they’d shared. It
was slow, unhurried, gentle, and persuasive. He applied a steady pressure until her lips parted, allowing him total access.

The caress of Logan’s lips on hers ignited the flame that had been extinguished years before. The heat spread from her mouth to her chest, and still lower to the secret place between her thighs.

Caryn did not know when it happened, but without warning she was returning the kiss, her tongue meeting Logan’s, she succumbing to the forceful domination of his mouth. Her fingers tightened on the soft fabric of his sweater as she tried getting even closer.

It was as if Logan Prescott’s presence had teased her for days, and now she was able to commune and partake of everything he was offering. Caught up in the rapture of his mouth and the hardness of his body melding with hers, she surrendered to the healing passion and the realization that she wanted Logan—not just his kiss, but all of him.

Logan pulled her closer, wanting to absorb Caryn into himself. His right hand moved down her back and cupped her hips. He wanted her to feel his rising passion, his hardness. He wanted her to know he wanted her, wanted to be inside her. His left hand was as busy as his right, pulling the hem of her blouse up, baring flesh before his fingers closed over the sheer lace covering her breast.

Her breast swelled, the nipple hardening against his palm. Caryn moaned against his lips, seeking to escape. She thought she was ready for Logan and mature enough to engage in a sexual liaison with him, but she wasn’t. She needed time, a lot more time than just three days.

“Logan, no,” she mumbled, anchoring her hands between their bodies and pushing against his hard chest.

Without warning, he released her and she turned and walked determinedly up the stairs, her body trembling uncontrollably from the force of the passion pulsing at the juncture of her thighs.

Logan watched her retreat, his hands tightening into fists. He was angry, angry with himself. He’d made a mistake
and moved too quickly, when all he wanted was for her to want him as much as he wanted her. One thing he was, was a quick study. It would not happen again.

A slight smile transformed his stoic expression. “Good night, Sleeping Beauty,” he whispered.

He stared at the staircase for a full minute, then turned and made his way to the rear of the house. He’d left Domino in his cage for more than eight hours. He would walk his pet, clean the cage, then sit with the puppy until he fell asleep.

Chapter Eleven

Caryn put away her journal, picked up her handbag, and quietly made her way down the staircase and out of the house. She’d gotten up early, deciding to spend the day away from Marble Island. She wanted to drive up the coast and shop—for what she was uncertain. Perhaps she would stop in a small, quaint town and pick up a few craft items.

Muted shades of color in gray and mauve crisscrossed the sky as she started up her car and backed out of the driveway, and by the time she’d left Marble Island behind a watery sun shimmered over the ocean.

*    *    *

Logan had not realized it was the sound of a car’s engine that woke him until he rose and looked for Caryn and discovered her and her car missing.

He felt oddly disappointed not seeing her, while refusing to acknowledge he missed her or that she had become an integral part of his existence while on Marble Island. He saw to Domino’s needs before jogging the mile and a half along the beach to the island’s business center and returning to the house to begin a day of work.

He shaved, showered, pulled on a pair of well-worn jeans, a T-shirt, and covered his bare feet with a pair of tattered leather moccasins. Releasing an excited, whining Domino from his cage, he rewarded the obedient puppy with an outing of the run of the front porch when he looped an extended leash around a column. Fortified with a large mug and a carafe of strong coffee, Logan retrieved his power notebook and sat on the porch with the intent to complete the draft of a proposal for Raleigh’s zoning board.

Time passed quickly, and hunger pangs forced him to stop and glance at his watch. It was nearing noon, and all he had consumed had been three cups of black coffee. A noticeable frown furrowed his smooth forehead. If Caryn had been home, he probably would’ve eaten breakfast, and if not breakfast then brunch.

The frown vanished as a realization washed over him. He didn’t like eating alone. Why hadn’t he been aware of that before meeting Caryn Edwards? He smiled. He liked Caryn. In fact he liked her a lot, and found her to be more sexy than any woman he had ever met. And he suspected she was unaware of how very sexy she actually was.

Closing his eyes, he relived kissing her and how she had fitted so perfectly against his body. When he had taken her into his arms, she resisted slightly before going pliant and returning his kiss. The feel and taste of her tongue
was imprinted on his brain, along with the soft crush of her breasts against his chest.

A soft moan escaped him as he recalled the size and weight of her breast and the hardening nipple against his palm. He had aroused her in the same manner she had aroused him. And again, he wanted her. He wanted her naked, in his bed, his body joined with hers. And he wanted her writhing uncontrollably in his embrace while both soared with a passion taking them beyond themselves and exploding into a lingering satisfaction that would last a lifetime.

Lifetime!
His eyes opened and his chest heaved heavily as if he had run a grueling race. What was wrong with him? He had walked away from one woman, and within two weeks he found himself caught in the spell of another who barely tolerated his presence.

Saving what he had typed, he turned off the computer and went into the house to find something to eat. He hadn’t eaten anything in eighteen hours, and maybe, just maybe he was confused because of food deprivation.

By late afternoon the sky darkened with fast-moving angry clouds, and Logan pushed a button on the Wrangler and put up the soft top to keep out the impending rainfall. A strong, rising wind caused the ocean to stir restlessly in its bed and pound the shore with dull gray, white-tipped waves. Standing on the porch, he watched the waves break higher and higher over the beach, while Domino stood at his side shivering.

“It looks like a storm, fella,” he said softly, leaning down and scratching behind the spotted head. The wind gusts increased, moaning like someone in pain.

A rumble of thunder shook the earth, followed by an ear-crashing clap of lightning, and Domino whined while at the same time tried to hide between his master’s denim-covered legs.

A second roll of thunder followed, and when the lightning
struck, it bounced off the water and exploded like a bomb. As an experienced boatman, Logan knew the impending storm was a dangerous one, and his thoughts turned to Caryn. Where was she? And, would she know enough to seek shelter until the storm was over?

Logan continued to ask himself the same questions three hours later, as he sat in the family room with a sleeping Domino at his feet. The puppy had yelped and whined incessantly until he released him from his cage. It was apparent the sound of the howling wind frightened the dog so much, he refused to relax.

The light from a table lamp flickered twice, but managed not to go out. An all-news radio station offered a storm update every fifteen minutes, warning all residents along the coast to seek shelter. A police bulletin followed with reports of flooding and power outages up and down the Carolina coast.

All of the windows were closed, yet he still could hear the roar of the ocean over the sound of the howling, screaming wind.

“Caryn, where are you?” he whispered angrily. The words spewed out because he needed to hear another sound, other than that of the wind, rain, and the powerful roar of the ocean.

Pulling the toe of his moccasin from under Domino’s limp head, he stood up and walked over to the window. It was only seven-fifteen, but it could have been midnight. His gaze met blackness, as a sliver of fear wound its way into him.

What if something had happened to her? What if she was trapped in her car by the rising waters? What if she lay injured somewhere along the road?

His apprehension swelled into a paralyzing, pregnant fear. He cared about her. No—it was more than concern or caring, and in an instant, Logan had to admit to himself that he was falling in love with Caryn Edwards. And, the
love he felt for her was so different from the one for Nina Smith.

This love was soothing, gentle. It made him want to protect her from all, or any harm. He wanted to love her, but only on his terms.

He debated whether to go out into the storm and look for her, or remain at the house in case she telephoned. The lights flickered again, then went out, quickly solving his dilemma. The island was completely dark, making it impossible to see anything.

Moving slowly, he inched his way out of the family room and into the kitchen, hoping he would not step on Domino. Holding his hands in front of him, he felt along a wall until he encountered the gas-burning cooking range and turned a knob for a burner. Bright blue flames lit up the kitchen once all of the burners were lit. They provided enough light in the space for him to locate a supply of candles stored in a drawer under a countertop. He lit a candle and placed it on a small ceramic dish, then another. Using the flickering candle as a beacon, he returned to the family room and picked up the dozing puppy and placed him back in his cage. He didn’t want the dog to wake up and race around frantically in the dark.

Shielding the candle with one hand, he crossed the dining room and stood in the entry. A wave of fear and panic settled in his chest with each passing second as terrifying images flooded his mind. He shook off the picture of her trapped in her car while rushing flood waters filled its interior.

“She’s safe,” he whispered as he paced back and forth.
She’s just waiting out the storm
. He stopped pacing. “Then why hasn’t she called?” he continued in his monologue.

He stared into the flame, mentally willing her to come to him.
Caryn, sweetheart. Come to me. I’ll take care of you
.

He jumped, nearly dropping the candle, when he heard a wailing sound before it was snatched away by the howling wind. At first he thought he’d imagined it, but he heard it again, followed by a drumming sound on the door.

Logan took two steps, opened the door, and it was torn from his grasp by the wind which slammed it against its frame and quickly extinguished the candle. He could barely discern the churning foam of the waves cresting more than six feet in height in the unnatural darkness. Reaching out, he attempted to close the door when he glanced down and saw her.

Caryn lay facedown on the porch, her arms covering her head in a protective gesture. “Fool!” he spat out seconds before he gathered her up in his arms. The scrappy little fool had challenged the violent fury of a tropical storm with winds blowing more than forty miles an hour and rising tides sweeping away anything in its path.

Placing her over his shoulder, he held her legs as he pulled the screen door closed and locked it securely, then closed and bolted the inner door, shutting out the violent sound of nature’s fury.

Caryn felt the warmth of Logan’s body seeping into her chilled limbs. “Lo-Lo-gan.” His name came out in a raspy whisper at the same time her teeth chattered like rolling dice.

He felt the unnatural iciness of her body through her soggy clothes, and his irritation quickly turned to alarm. He had to get her out of the wet clothes and warm her before she went into shock.

Returning to the kitchen, he placed her on the table and ripped off her blouse when he couldn’t push the buttons through their openings. Her running shoes, slacks, underpants, and bra quickly followed. He left her long enough to light three more candles and place them strategically around the kitchen. The flickering flames highlighted her face and he stared numbly at her, not recognizing the woman he had spent the past four days with. She had cut her hair, the shortened strands clinging to her scalp like a black cap.

His shock was short-lived as he removed his T-shirt and rubbed her naked body vigorously until she moaned softly under the ministration.

“Stop,” she pleaded. “No more.”

He ignored her plea. “I have to warm you.”

Her right hand flailed out, catching him under his chin. His head snapped back, and quicker than the eye could follow he caught her hand, holding it firmly. “Don’t fight me, Caryn. I’m not going to hurt you,” he hissed between clenched teeth

All of her fight vanished, and she did what she had wanted to do from the moment she realized a bridge she had driven across only seconds before had been washed away by a wall of rushing water—she cried. Turning, she rested her forehead against Logan’s bare arm and cried.

“I—I thought I wasn’t going to make it,” she whispered between sobs. “The water was rising—everywhere. It came—came into the car, and I thought I was going to drown. All I thought of was being trapped in the car while the water rose around me, and—”

“It’s okay,” Logan crooned, stopping her. Pulling her gently to him, he picked her up and held her as if she were a small child, placing tender kisses all over her face. “It’s all right, baby. It’s over and you’re safe. I’ll take care of you.”

He held her effortlessly, offering his warmth and his protection in the candlelit space. A slight smile touched his mouth as she quieted, then went still in his embrace. Closing his eyes briefly, he offered a silent prayer of gratitude for her safe return.

Picking up a candle, he held it at an angle so he wouldn’t drip wax on Caryn’s exposed flesh. Moving slowly, he made his way out of the kitchen and up the staircase to the second floor. He needed to get her into bed, then prepare something warm for her to drink.

Logan entered her bedroom, placing her on her bed, and covered her with a sheet and a lightweight blanket. Leaning over, he brushed his mouth over hers. “Relax, baby.”

Nodding, she closed her eyes, and when she reopened them ten minutes later Logan sat on the side of the bed,
holding a cup. She could barely make out his features in the soft glow of candlelight.

“Try to sit up,” he urged in a quiet voice.

Pushing herself into a sitting position, Caryn clutched the sheet over her bare breasts, taking small sips of overly sweetened tea as Logan held the cup to her lips. Her gaze met his, fusing over the rim of the cup seconds before her lids lowered slowly.

He placed the cup on the bedside table as she lay back against the pillows cradling her shoulders. Within minutes she fell into a deep sleep, shutting out all of her fears and nature’s wrath running amuck.

Logan sat on the side of the bed, staring at her composed features in the wavering candlelight. He tried and failed to analyze why he’d found himself drawn to Caryn Edwards. Why did he find it so easy to pretend she was his wife. Why he was willing to think of her as his wife. And what was it about her that melted his distrust where he was willing to permit himself to fall in love with her?

Caryn awoke to total darkness and to the lingering sound of the moaning wind. She sat up, disoriented, not knowing whether it was day or night.

The image of her car filling with water as she drove through what had become swollen, rushing currents flooded her memory, eliciting a violent shaking. She’d thought she was going to drown, the car becoming her watery tomb. But she had made it. She had driven over the bridge connecting Marble Island with the mainland minutes before it was swept away, leaving a surging waterway instead of a concrete structure.

Once she realized she had escaped death by drowning, she had vividly recalled the images of her parents, her brother, sister-in-law, and her niece and nephew. And she did not know why, but Logan’s face had also appeared, and she’d wondered whether she would ever see him, touch him, or kiss him again.

She hadn’t understood what had propelled her back to Marble Island during the storm until she found herself in his arms. She had challenged the tempest because she knew she had to see him one more time.