Summer Magic Page 3

  The sun-bronzed youth wiped his right hand down the front of his white apron, then extended it. “Chris Barnett.”

  She took the proffered hand. “Caryn Edwards.”

  Chris’s gold-flecked brown eyes swept appreciably over her face and body. “If you need someone to show you where the real action is let me know.”

  Withdrawing her hand, she nodded. “Thanks for the offer.”

  He continued ringing up her order, his practiced smile in place. “Where are you staying?”

  She knew if she didn’t tell him, he would find out within an hour. “I’m staying at the Crawfords’ place.”

  “Cool spot,” Chris drawled. “If you need help settling in or if you get lonely sometime … call me. I work during the day, but I’m free at night.” Reaching for a small paper bag, he scrawled a telephone number on it and handed it to her.

  A large dark hand swept the bag with the number from her fingers before she was given the opportunity to glance at one of the digits. “Forget it, kid,” Logan drawled, his voice low and threatening.

  Caryn felt faint as her heart pumped wildly in an erratic rhythm. And judging from the loss of color in Chris’s face, he also hadn’t noticed Logan when he walked into the minimarket.

  “Logan!” Her own voice was low and angry.

  Ignoring her, Logan turned on the hapless young clerk. They were of equal height, but Chris had yet to put on the bulk of a man who had left adolescence behind fifteen years ago.

  “Pack up everything! Now!”

  Chris threw articles haphazardly into paper sacks while Logan reached into a pocket of his jeans and withdrew a gold monogrammed money clip. Tossing five twenties on the counter, he stacked the bags in the shopping cart.

  He turned his midnight gaze on Caryn, and for a brief moment she saw a hint of rage lurking beneath the surface of his composed features. “Please go and check on Domino,” he ordered quietly. “I’ll bring the food out.”

  She vacillated, knowing Logan wasn’t finished with Chris, and what she saw in the young man’s startled gaze was fear. Managing a bright smile, she said, “It’s been nice, Chris. I’ll see you around.”

  Chris shook his head, but Caryn did not see his last gesture of desperation as she turned and walked out to the parking lot.

  Logan waited until she disappeared before he leaned in close to the quaking store clerk. “Stay away from her,” he warned, “or I’ll show you what real action is.”

  Holding up his hands in a sign of surrender, Chris displayed his perfect white teeth. “Look, man, I didn’t know she belonged to you. I … I was just trying to be friendly.”

  Logan’s lips twisted into a cynical grin as he patted Chris’s cheek. “No harm done, kid.”

  His head bobbing up and down like a buoy on the water, Chris totaled Caryn’s purchases. He picked up the five twenties, handing two back to Logan. “You gave me too much money.”

  Logan, pushing the cart away from the counter, shook his head. “No, I didn’t. It’s a tip.”

  The fact that he had just faced possible bodily injury because he had come on to another man’s wife faded quickly as Chris computed that the man Caryn had called Logan had given him a fifty-dollar tip.

  “Cool, man,” he shouted to Logan’s departing back.

  Yeah cool, Logan thought as he pushed the shopping cart out to the parking lot; what he had wanted to do was shake Caryn until her teeth rattled. He couldn’t believe it when he saw her flashing her brilliant eyes at that boy; and that was what he was—a boy. He doubted whether Chris was old enough to be served alcohol.

  Damn! Talk about bad luck. If he didn’t have bad luck, then he wouldn’t have any luck!

  The woman he had wanted to carry his name and bear his children slept or had been sleeping with his best friend, while the woman with whom he was to share a house for the summer batted her lashes at men who weren’t old enough to buy her a beer.

  Caryn was seated in the Wrangler with Domino in her arms. His tiny pink tongue darted out as he tried licking her chin. Logan warned her about spoiling his dog. He wanted Domino as a companion. Give her a week and she would turn the puppy into a mush.

  Staring straight ahead, Caryn’s eyes narrowed behind the lenses of her sunglasses. Her rage had ebbed slowly, and only now had she regained control of her temper. All Logan had to do was say a word—a single word—and she would let him have it. They had been thrown together for less than two hours, and he was doing to her what had taken Thomas Duff two years to do—make her decisions for her.

  Logan noticed the set of Caryn’s jaw and decided it best they discuss what needed to be discussed behind closed doors. He loaded the back of the Jeep with her purchases and returned the cart to its proper place, then slipped into the four-wheel-drive vehicle beside her. Their return to the house was accomplished in complete silence.

  He parked along the side of the house and wasn’t surprised when she didn’t wait for him to help her down as she cradled Domino carefully in her arms. Sitting down on the top step of the porch, she sat and watched the waves wash up on the stretch of beach as he unloaded the car and took everything into the house.

  Domino whined and wiggled, trying to free himself of her protective hold. She put him down on the porch, and he sniffed along the boards, his tiny black nose examining his new world.

  The screen door opened and closed slowly with a soft click, and Caryn knew without turning around that Logan stood behind her.

  “Don’t ever do that to me again,” she warned him softly.

  “Did you get a sick thrill out of teasing that boy?”

  She went completely rigid, then rose slowly to her feet. Standing this close to Logan made her realize that he towered over her by at least six or seven inches. She was five-five and he had to be at least six-one or two.

  “For your information, I wasn’t teasing him. I was just being polite.”

  Logan’s sweeping black eyebrows nearly met as he frowned at her. “Polite!” he drawled. “The boy wanted to show you some real action, Caryn. Do I have to spell out what kind of action he was talking about?”

  Sweeping off her sunglasses, Caryn turned her back. “It would never come to that.”

  “You tell Chris the Golden Lover that. He was salivating every time you leaned over to take something out of your shopping cart.”

  Glancing down at the front of her sundress, she realized quite a bit of cleavage was visible if she leaned over. And that meant Logan had also gotten an eyeful as he stood over her.

  Spinning around, she rose on tiptoe. “Jealous, Mr. Logan?”

  His gaze fixed on her mouth. He shifted an eyebrow. “Not of a boy, Miss Edwards.”

  A smile crinkled her eyes. “You could’ve fooled me.”

  Throwing back his head, Logan let loose with a deep peal of laughter. He was still laughing when a young couple in an ancient Volkswagen Beetle pulled up in front of the house. He dropped an arm over Caryn’s shoulders and waited until the two college students climbed out of the car.

  A tall, lanky man extended his hand as he climbed the half dozen steps to the porch. “Mr. Logan, I’m Steven Shelton and this is my twin sister, Stephanie. My grandfather said you needed someone to clean up for you for the summer.”

  Logan shook Steven’s hand and nodded to his sister. “Forget about the mister and call me Logan.” His arm slipped from Caryn’s shoulder to her waist. “And this is Caryn.”

  “Mrs. Logan,” Steven and Stephanie chorused in unison.

  “I’m not—” she protested quickly, not wanting them to believe she was Logan’s wife, but he interrupted her.

  “Caryn and I would like you to come at least three times a week to dust, clean the bathrooms, and keep everything in order. I don’t care how long it takes you to get everything done as long as it’s done well. The pay will be the same whether it takes you an hour or four hours.”

  Stephanie, as tall and lanky as her red-haired, green-eyed brother, said, “When do you wan
t us to start?”

  “How about now?”

  “Good!” they said in unison.

  Caryn waited until they returned to their battered car before she rounded on Logan. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “I’m making certain you won’t have to clean up after me.”

  “You didn’t have to go and hire help,” she argued.

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Caryn.” His strong fingers tightened slightly on her waist before he released her. “I’ve never cleaned up after myself. And now that I’m thirty-five, I think it’s a little too late to learn.”

  The admission told Caryn more than she needed to know about the man she would spend the summer with. There was no doubt Logan was privileged.

  Her curiosity piqued, she wanted to know exactly who he was, where he had come from, and why his wedding was canceled a week before he was to be married.

  The Shelton twins returned to the house carrying mops, brooms, and a box filled with cleaning supplies.

  Logan dropped a kiss on the top of Caryn’s head. “Come, sweetheart, tell the kids what you want them to do first.”

  She glared at him before making her way into the house to direct the brother and sister team to the kitchen.

  Stephanie made quick work of cleaning the refrigerator while Caryn rinsed fruits and vegetables before storing them in their respective bins.

  Stephanie removed the dust covers from the furniture and wiped away layers of dust from the highly polished pine floors. The odor of wax mingled with the tangy smell of salt water as French doors were opened to take advantage of a rising ocean breeze.

  Logan and Steven carried a gas grill from the second-level storage room and set it up at the rear of the house. Logan took the empty tanks into town to fill them with propane while Steven carried the white wicker porch furniture down the staircase and set them where Caryn directed him to place each piece.

  Logan returned with the filled tanks, and he and Steve set up the grill, making certain it was operable. The smell of hot charcoal wafted in the evening air as Steven and Stephanie completed their chores. They thanked Logan effusively when he paid them, promising to return again in two days.

  Caryn sat on a cushioned love seat on the porch, her bare feet cradled on a matching cushioned wicker ottoman. The whirling blades of the overhead fans managed to cool her moist face. It was almost seven o’clock, and she hadn’t realized how tired she was until she sat down. She’d been up before five, on the road at six, and the twelve hours had blurred into one. She had planned to take her time settling into the house, but with Logan’s intervention it was accomplished in less than six hours. Her stomach rumbled, but she was too tired to get up and prepare something to eat.

  Logan made his way slowly up the porch steps, his gaze fixed on Caryn as she lay sprawled on the love seat. He knew by the slight drooping of her eyelids that she was exhausted.

  He had fed Domino, walked him, and put him in his cage for the evening. It would take another couple of weeks before he trusted the puppy enough to have the run of the house.

  Taking a chair opposite Caryn, he stretched out his legs, crossing his feet at the ankles. “What are you doing for dinner?” he asked quietly.

  “Nothing,” she replied, not opening her eyes.

  “Aren’t you hungry?”

  She smiled. “I’m starved, but I’m too tired to even attempt to get up.”

  “What would you say to eating out tonight?”

  She opened her eyes and stared at him. The sun was behind his back, making it impossible for her to see his expression. The rules she had set up were falling away quickly. She didn’t want to see Logan any more than she had to; and there was certainly no need to share her meals with him. She needed to be alone to sort out the uncertainties in her life, and she couldn’t do that if he intruded at every turn.

  “I’ll pass,” she replied. “Thanks for the offer.”

  Logan rose to his feet and walked around to the rear of the house. Moments later she heard the sound of his Jeep as he sped away. She waited until the sound faded completely, then stood up and went into the house.

  Pulling her weary body up the staircase, she made her way down the hall and into her bedroom. Somehow she managed to go through the motions of brushing her teeth and showering before she collapsed, facedown, on her bed. A cool breeze swept over her naked body as the sun set and a full moon rose, silvering the room with an eerie light.

  She didn’t hear Logan return or Domino’s excited barking as he was released from his cage for his final walk for the evening.

  And she didn’t hear or see Logan as he walked into her room to check on her, stopping short when he saw her bare form sprawled out across the bed.

  Retreating quickly, Logan closed the door, gasping painfully as his body reacted violently to the scene inexorably branded in his head.

  Even after he stood under the icy spray of a shower, he still could see the perfection of Caryn’s long, slim legs, rounded hips, and the lush fullness of her breasts against a floral sheet. Her unbound hair flowed down her back like curls of black ribbon, and it took all of his willpower not to lie down beside her.

  His mind said no while his body had betrayed him. It took more than an hour for the heaviness to leave his lower body and with it came sleep. A deep, dreamless sleep.

  Chapter Four

  Logan awoke as he did every morning, before dawn pierced the black cover of night, ready to run two miles before he went through his routine of preparing to go to the offices of J. Prescott and Associates.

  This morning, he lay in bed, eyes closed, thinking of how different this day would begin. He planned to run the two miles, but his only contact with J. Prescott and Associates would be through the beeper, cellular telephone, laptop computer, and fax machine he brought with him when he left Raleigh.

  His mouth tightened in a grim, hard line. This week was to have been the beginning of his ten-day honeymoon at a private villa on the French-Caribbean island of Martinique. All of that had changed because instead of sharing a villa with Nina in Martinique, he was waking up on a small island off the coast of North Carolina, sharing an exact replica of a Louisiana low-country house with a woman who was as different from Nina Smith as night was from day.

  Nina’s mahogany-brown skin, stylized short-cut hair, slanting black eyes, and her tall, thin body had earned her the sobriquet as the Black Ice Princess, while Caryn’s black curly hair and lush, slim body made her ripely seductive and dangerously tempting as an enchantress.

  However, Nina’s unapproachable image was shattered completely once she shared his bed. And it had taken two years, a proposal of marriage, and direct proof of Nina’s infidelity for Logan to realize that he hadn’t loved the woman as much as he loved her passion. Nina was the first woman he had met whose passions were as strong as his own in their intensity.

  Thinking of passions reminded him of his body’s reaction to seeing Caryn nude. The reaction was just as unexpected as it was violent. It was so powerful and violent that a cold shower failed to relieve the heaviness in his groin, and it angered him because he did not want to want her. He didn’t want to want any woman.

  Swinging his long legs over the side of the bed, he slipped into an athletic supporter, a pair of shorts, and his running shoes and made his way to the bathroom at the head of the staircase.

  Less than five minutes later, he released Domino from the large cage he had placed in an alcove near the door leading to the rear of the house.

  Domino jumped up and down, whining excitedly. There was no doubt he was pleased that his master had released him from his overnight captivity.

  Tucking the Dalmatian puppy under his arm, Logan opened the back door and walked down the steps of the double stairway. The air was warm, signaling it would be another day of near-ninety-degree temperatures.

  He lowered Domino to the sand-littered ground and began a series of stretching motions as the dog sniffed every blade of sparsely growing
grass before marking his territory. Logan whistled sharply and his spotted head lifted alertly. It was the signal that he was to chase his master.

  Man and dog ran leisurely along the beach, Logan slowing periodically so that Domino could catch up. He discovered jogging on the beach was very different and much more exhilarating than jogging around the indoor track at the housing complex where he occupied a two-bedroom apartment in a self-contained private community. The housing development was one of the more successful ventures of J. Prescott and Associates.

  Logan’s father, Jace, had made a name for himself in Raleigh as an astute businessman who secretly and quietly bought large tracts of commercial properties in the capital city. And as a trained architect and urban planner, Logan directed the building of malls, affordable housing developments for low- and middle-income families, and a business complex that housed not only office buildings but also a hotel, convention center, upscale shops and restaurants, a multiplex movie theater, and an entertainment center.

  He couldn’t think of J. Prescott and Associates without thinking of the Smiths. Nina’s father had provided his father’s company with their financing for years. Nothing had been said, but he doubted whether the Smiths would continue to invest in any future Prescott projects. What Logan had to do was find additional financial backing for J. Prescott and Associates’ upcoming project. Staying at the house on Marble Island was the perfect setting for him to develop proposals for potential investors.

  Pinpoints of sun broke through the dawning sky, and he felt the buildup of heat on his bare back as he glanced down at the puppy who managed to keep pace with him.

  He estimated that he had jogged about a half mile before he turned back. Domino was more than content to rest in his master’s arms for the return trip.

  Logan reentered the house the way he had left. He cleaned Domino’s cage and filled his bowl with fresh water. It wasn’t quite six-fifteen, but he wanted to be showered and dressed before seven. Even though he wouldn’t go into his traditional office, he did not want to break his routine. His workday always began at seven.