Summer Magic (19 page)

“Is that what happened to you, Caryn?”

“Yes.”

Cynthia clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, sweet heaven. You poor thing.”

Caryn managed a tight smile. “It’s okay, because I got out in time to save myself.”

Cynthia hugged her again before sinking back down to the mound of pillows cradling her shoulders. The women lay on the bed talking for the next hour, offering vignettes of their childhood. Caryn told her everything with the exception of who she’d married and the abuse she’d had endured from the man she’d pledged to love until death parted them.

They returned to Gooseneck Island the second of August at sunset. Domino wound himself around Caryn’s legs, seemingly relieved to be back on dry land.

She hugged Hamilton, then Cynthia. “I’ll never be able
to thank you for a wonderful week,” she said to the now very obviously pregnant blond woman.

“We thank you and Raven for helping us celebrate our last fling with freedom before we’re faced with baby formulas, disposable diapers, colic, and teething,” Cynthia teased.

“And I’m willing to bet you’ll love every minute of it.”

Hamilton wound an arm around his wife’s thickening waist. “I’m certain we will. I’ve waited a long time for this event.”

Logan, having stored the last of his and Caryn’s luggage in the Wrangler, walked over to join her and the others. “Ham and Tia, what can I say except thank you very much for a wonderful surprise.”

Hamilton inclined his head. “When do you want to get together again?”

“You have my numbers. Give me a call.”

“Will do, Raven.”

Logan handed Cynthia two gaily wrapped packages. “Here’s a little something for the baby from Caryn and I.”

She took the gifts, her eyes filling with tears. “Raven—you guys didn’t have to.” She sniffled loudly. “You’d better go before I start bawling my eyes out.”

Caryn hugged and kissed her new friends again, feeling as if she’d known them for years. Cynthia clung to her neck, weeping. “He loves you,” she sobbed in her ear.

I don’t want him to love me because it’ll make my leaving him so much more painful
, she whispered back silently. Easing out of Cynthia’s embrace, she walked over to the Jeep and pulled herself up without waiting for Logan to help her. She was already seated and belted in when he picked up Domino and placed him behind the front seats.

Logan swung up onto his seat in one fluid motion. He glanced at her before turning the key in the ignition. He switched on the headlights, put the four-wheel-drive vehicle in reverse, then backed out of the driveway. A wave of sadness shrouded him when he realized seeing his
college friends again reminded him of what had eluded him for years—his loving a woman enough to marry her.

But he’d miraculously found love since coming to Marble Island. He had fallen in love with a woman who kept him at a distance; a woman who offered him her body and her passion, but withheld what he needed most.

The drive, which would have normally taken an hour to return to Marble Island, was accomplished in half that time as Logan exceeded the speed limit by more than twenty miles per hour. The drive commanded all of his concentration because of the dark, single-lane road.

He maneuvered into the driveway of the Crawfords’ house beside Caryn’s car, shutting off the engine. Shifting to his right, he glanced at Caryn. The silvery light from a full moon showed her head hanging at a grotesque angle. A tender smile softened his features. She had fallen asleep.

“Stay, boy,” he whispered to Domino when the dog rose to his feet, whining softly.

He retrieved the keys to the house, then gathered Caryn in his arms. She stirred, mumbling softly to herself, then settled back to sleep by the time he’d opened the front door. He flicked a switch on a wall in the entry, flooding the upper level with light. Making his way slowly up the staircase, he stared down at her face relaxed in sleep, his heart welling with emotion.

Caryn hadn’t slept much the three days they were at sea for their return trip. Most nights she had sat on deck, staring out at the ocean. Their last night at sea she had refused to come to bed and wound up napping on the deck chair.

Logan walked into his bedroom and placed her gently on the bed. She would sleep with him this night. He would make certain of that.

Chapter Nineteen

Caryn turned over, encountering a solid object. Opening her eyes, she saw a wall of dark brown flesh, realization dawning. She was in bed with Logan. She hadn’t slept with him the past three nights because she needed time to withdraw, time to decrease her emotional and physical dependence on him. Moving a leg, she eased her body toward the edge of the bed, but was thwarted when a large hand snaked out and held her fast.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Logan frowning at her. “I’m getting up.”

Exerting a minimum of pressure, he pulled her back until she lay over his chest. “No, you’re not.”

Something in his voice, the command, sounded so much like Tom’s that she snapped. Raising her free hand, she swung at him, but found herself lying flat on her back with Logan looming over her, his superior weight pressing her down to the mattress.

“What is the matter with you, Caryn?”

“Nothing,” she screamed in his face, trying unsuccessfully to free herself. “Let me go!”

He eased his hold on her body but would not let her up. “What’s going on with you?” Holding her shoulders, he shook her gently. “Come on, baby. Tell me what he did to you.”

His calling her baby was her undoing. All of the shame and pain she’d carried for years swept over her, and she bit down so hard on her lower lip that she drew blood.

“No, Logan, I can’t,” she sobbed. “Please, please don’t ask me again.”

Gathering her close, he reversed their positions while placing tender kisses on her wet cheeks. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Everything will work out. I’ll take care of you.”

The moment he said the words, he realized he’d repeated what he had promised the night of the storm. The night she had come to him—soft, passionate, and vulnerable.

He held her until the stiffness left her limbs enough for her to relax. He now knew without a doubt it was the shadow of her ex-husband that kept her from loving him.
He must have been a monster
, he seethed silently. A monster who had terrorized her until she somehow found the courage to escape him.

“What do you want from me, Caryn?”

She jumped slightly at the sound of his voice against her ear. Settling her legs more comfortably between his, she shook her head.

“Nothing, Logan.”

He stiffened momentarily, held his breath, then let it out slowly. All she had to do was ask, and he would give her anything she desired. Anything within his grasp.

“You’ve given me all I’ll ever need,” she continued softly, her warm breath feathering over his throat. “And when I leave Marble Island, I want you to know that I’ll never forget you.”

He refused to think of her leaving Marble Island—leaving him. But he knew eventually the time would come when he, too, would have to leave.

“When are you leaving?” He was certain she could hear the anguish in his voice.

“I have to leave by August ninth.”

“Why so soon? Don’t classes begin the middle of the month?”

“I have orientation on the eleventh.”

“That gives us only another week together.”

Her eyes filled with a fresh wave of tears. “Then we’ll have to make it a week to remember.”

Logan swallowed the lump rising in his throat. “Yes, we will.”

It was apparent the days were getting shorter and the nights cooler, yet that had not lessened the enthusiasm of the vacationers who had planned to remain on Marble Island until the Labor Day weekend.

Caryn had spent the day packing. She still had another four days on the island, but she did not want to wait until the last minute to begin the onerous task. She was
returning to Asheville with more than she’d left with. The clothes Logan had purchased for her for their Puerto Rico excursion added much more weight to her pullman and garment bag.

Glancing at her watch, she realized she had to rush to get dressed if she didn’t want to be late for the concert. Stripping off a T-shirt and a pair of shorts, she took a quick shower.

She was dressed and had brushed her hair when Logan knocked on her bedroom door. Smiling at him, she said, “I’m ready.”

Logan returned her smile. “You look cute tonight.”

Caryn glanced down at the forest-green, cotton, jersey, drawstring pants with a matching long-sleeve shirt, she had pulled on over a white tank top. Her deck shoes were the same forest green.

“Thank you.”

Extending his hand, he grasped her fingers. “Let’s go or we’ll be late.”

She glanced at her watch. It was seven-fifty. The concert always began promptly at eight.

Logan led her down the staircase and out to the porch. Domino, who lay in a corner on the porch, stood up. The puppy was now completely housebroken and could be trusted to have the run of the house and porch.

Logan whistled softly through his teeth. “Let’s go, boy. Inside.” He held the door open and the dog bounded into the house, standing at the screen door and whining softly. “We’ll be back soon.” He lay down even before Logan closed the door and locked it.

“I’m going to miss Domino,” she said quietly as Logan picked up a blanket from a rocker.

He chuckled. “I’m thinking of giving him to you. I have no need for a mush dog.”

Caryn looked up at him and smiled. “Are you serious?”

He gave her a long, penetrating look, then nodded. “Do you want him?”

“I’d love him.”

“Are you allowed to have pets where you live?”

“Yes. I’m renting a small house. It even has a yard in the back where he can run free.”

“If that’s the case, then he’s yours.”

She stopped, forcing Logan to stop with her. “You’d really give me your dog?”

A slight frown settled between his dark eyes. “I’d give you anything you’d want, if it would make you happy.”

“What makes you think I’m not happy?”

“There are times when I see a sadness you can’t hide, Caryn. A sadness that weighs you down—”

“Don’t analyze me, Logan,” she interrupted.

“I’m not analyzing you,” he countered angrily.

Closing her eyes, Caryn counted to three. Opening her eyes, she flashed a tight smile. “Let’s not fight. We don’t want everyone to think we’re having a lover’s quarrel.”

Leaning over, he kissed her cheek. “And, we wouldn’t want everyone to know that we don’t love each other, especially if they believe we’re married.”

She nodded numbly. It had become a summer of deception. They’d lied about being married, and she had lied about not loving him. Only Cynthia knew the truth, and had promised not to tell Logan. But, she hadn’t promised not to tell Hamilton. Closing her eyes, she prayed silently that Cynthia would keep her secret.

Caryn lay beside Logan, not touching, and staring up at the darkening sky. She inhaled the familiar scent of his sensual cologne, felt his warmth and wanted so much to touch him.

Touch me, Logan
, she urged him silently.
Make the first move
. But he didn’t, and as soon as the lights dimmed, she closed her eyes, shutting him out.

Logan regretted coming to the concert the moment he heard the opening notes of the Sarah Brightman and Andrea Bocelli duet, “Time To Say Goodbye.”

Pain, sorrow, and loss merged, threatening to swallow
him whole. The pain he’d experienced when he saw Nina with Wayne was nothing compared to what he was now undergoing. The pain eased, becoming a slow, seething rage. The love he felt for Caryn bordered on a loathing, a loathing for making him vulnerable.

Caryn Edwards had done to him what no other person had been able to do to him in thirty-five years. She had stripped him bare where anyone or anything could destroy him with a touch or a look.

Turning his head, he glanced down at her, his hands tightening into fists. He felt brittle, brittle enough to shatter into millions of pieces. He saw her shaking and thought maybe she was laughing, but as he leaned closer he realized she was crying. She was crying without making a sound.

His fingers unclenched as he pulled her against his body. Pressing his lips to her forehead, he cradled the back of her head.

“Oh, Caryn, don’t do this to me, to us,” he gasped, struggling for control.

“I want to go home.”

Logan also had had enough. Standing, he helped her to her feet, then picked up the blanket. There was only the sound of their breathing on the return drive to the house. Each did not want to intrude on the other’s chaotic emotions.

Caryn walked into the house before Logan and raced up the staircase. She made her way into her bedroom and closed the door. She stood in the dark, unable to turn on the light. The light would reveal her luggage sitting in a corner; it would remind her of how short her time was on Marble Island. And when she put those bags in her car and turned the key in the ignition, it would be over. Everything she had shared with Logan Prescott would come to a crashing end.

She finally pushed off the door and undressed in the dark. Her movements were measured, precise as she folded each piece—even her panties. She placed the pile of clothing on the foot of her bed, then lay facedown on the bed.

“I love you, Logan,” she whispered to silent space. The four words lingered in her mind as she fell into a deep sleep.

Logan paced the porch for over an hour, wanting to go to Caryn, then berated himself for weakening. He loved her. And he’d tried every way he could to tell her, but she’d rejected him over and over.

He heard whining and knew it was time for the dog’s last outing. Opening the door, he let Domino out. He didn’t have to wait long for the Dalmatian’s return.

Logan shook his head. Now, who’s the fool, he thought, staring at his pet. He had offered Caryn his dog because she wanted him. He would miss Domino, but knew he would get an excellent home.

“She loves you more than she loves me,” he said to the dog.

He locked the front door, turned off the light, then made his way to the upper level, his footsteps heavy on the stairs.

Standing at the top of the stairs, he stared at the closed door to Caryn’s room. He couldn’t remember when he’d seen the door closed. His footsteps were determined as he walked the length of hall and turned the knob. It opened. At least she hadn’t locked it.

He stood, stunned. It could’ve been a repeat of his first night on Marble Island. Caryn lay on the bed, naked, in the full moonlight. The same surge of desire gripped him, and his knees buckled slightly.

The last time he’d taken a cold shower. But that was before he’d tasted the burning sweetness of her lush body. And he wanted her—once more before it was time for their final goodbye.

Logan did not remember removing his clothes, nor did he remember slipping into bed with Caryn. But what he did remember the moment he pushed into her moist, hot body was that he hadn’t protected her. The first and last
time he would make love to her it would become a risky game of chance.

Caryn awoke to Logan’s hard flesh filling every inch of her. Any and all vestiges of sleep vanished as she curved her arms around his neck, lifted her hips, and followed his lead in a dance of abandoned desire.

He alternated the rhythm, slowing with a heavy, surging rolling of his hips before quickening to a frenzied, uninhibited thrusting that left her taking in deep gulps of air.

She felt his pulse outside of his body, heard it pounding in her head. His body pressed hers down to the mattress, his fingers entwined in the sheets in a punishing grip which would have left angry bruises on her flesh had he held her.

“Baby! Oh, baby,” he groaned over and over, the endearment becoming his mantra.

Caryn felt her heart melt and turn over as she raised her legs and circled his waist. The motion brought him closer, deeper, and with it a rush of passion as the floodgates opened, drowning both with a scorching inferno that pulled them under where they had stopped existing as separate entities, becoming one in the same.

“Darling,” Caryn sighed, her body shaking uncontrollably from her awesome release. A final, lingering shudder shook her simultaneously with the aftermath of Logan’s violent climax.

He collapsed heavily on her slight frame, gasping for much-needed oxygen to fill his burning lungs. He had taken her without his usual foreplay, and she had welcomed him into her body; the pleasure she’d offered was pure, explosive. A pleasure akin to a sweet agony where she had communicated her final goodbye.

Caryn pushed against Logan’s shoulders and he rolled off her. She slipped off the bed and headed for the bathroom. The light from the full moon silvered the space where she did not have to turn on a light. She moved as if in a trace when she opened the door to the shower stall,
stepped in, and turned on the water. She stood under the stream of the lukewarm water, crying uncontollably.

She cried for her lost innocence; an innocence to one so undeserving, and she cried for all of the times she hadn’t cried when Tom humiliated her; and finally she cried for the tiny life which was never offered the possibility of surviving to term.

But what she would not cry for was the time she’d spent with Logan. Falling in love with him had become a great source of joy. Unknowingly he had taught her she could love, and that she could also walk away from someone she loved. He had taught her more in four weeks than she’d learned in four years of marriage.