The music slowed to the especially beautiful section they both loved. They sat listening and to Sally the notes were like kisses caressing her skin…here…and here…and here…
And here…
‘I think Brahms must have been in love when he wrote this music,’ she said.
‘It’s very possible. He fell in love quite regularly.’
‘Did he ever marry?’
‘No. Apparently, he had a terminal problem with commitment.’
‘Oh.’ Sally shrugged that aside. Men with commitment phobias were not something she wanted to think about right now.
Logan’s fingers sifted through her curls. ‘Your hair is such an amazing colour and it’s so silky and soft.’ His deep voice had turned husky.
‘I’m rather keen on your chin.’ She pressed a kiss against his stubbled jaw. ‘It’s so raspy and rough.’
The music wound higher and higher, mimicking the tightening coil of desire inside her. ‘Logan, I do hope you made love to me in this fantasy.’
‘Oh, Sally!’
He pulled her closer, sealed her mouth with his and desire flamed between them with the speed of fire in dry grass. Suddenly they were kissing and touching with reckless fervour. Sally arched into Logan and his hands slipped under her blouse. His thumbs brushed the tight peaks of her breasts and longing pooled inside her.
Her cry of need echoed his and, in the next heartbeat, they were frantically helping each other out of their clothes.
Sally and Logan lay naked, their bodies loose and relaxed in the aftermath of their lovemaking.
‘Thank you,’ she murmured as she nestled her head on Logan’s shoulder and watched the moon reach through the high circular window to cast interesting patterns over their bodies. ‘You’ve no idea how grateful I am.’
He chuckled softly and his hand settled on her waist. With a slow possessive action, he traced the pale, moonlit curve from her waist to her hip. ‘I’m sure the gratitude is mutual, Sally.’
‘I’m not just talking about sex.’ Sally took a quick breath. It was time to tell this man who’d just made sweetly tender and passionate love to her that he’d released her fear. ‘I had a bad experience at a dance. I was almost raped and—’
Logan’s hand stilled.
‘—I’ve been frightened of men,’ Sally told him.
He sat up swiftly. ‘That’s terrible. Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I—I didn’t want to scare you off.’
‘You poor girl. If I’d known about that I would have been more gentle with you.’
‘You were gentle, Logan. You were perfect.’ She took his hands. ‘I must confess something.’
‘Something else? What is it?’ His voice sounded choked, as if he’d swallowed pebbles.
‘Coming to Sydney has been a bit of an experiment.’
‘I’ve been part of an experiment?’
‘Sort of. But I didn’t plan it that way. I came here to prove to my family that I’m OK now. They were getting too worried about me—tiptoeing around me, treating me like a patient. When Chloe left me her house, I’m afraid I rather jumped at the chance to escape. And then, when you asked me to help you with the dancing lessons, I realised you’d offered me the perfect chance to face up to my fears.’
Logan’s face was in shadow so she couldn’t see his reaction, but then he leaned forward into the puddle of moonlight and his grim and strained expression betrayed his shock. ‘You took a terrible risk, Sally.’
‘Not really.’
‘I might have been as bad as the mongrel who attacked you.’
‘You sound like my brothers.’ Lifting his hands to her lips, she kissed them. ‘Right from the day you fell in the duck pond, I knew you were really nice.’
‘Nice? I hate that word.’
She shrugged. ‘Now you’re pretending to be tough again, when you’re really a softie.’ With her fingertip, she traced his jaw line and it was anything but soft. ‘Seriously, Logan, you really have helped me more than you could guess. Getting to know you, learning to trust you, having you make love to me—it’s all been—’
‘Therapeutic?’ Logan supplied as she searched for the right word.
Sally laughed, then dropped her head to press kisses into the shadowy base of his neck. ‘Honestly, Logan, you’re better than any therapy.’ She let her voice sound sultry.
Releasing a soft sound, half growl, half sigh, he gathered her in and whispered in her ear, ‘Honestly, Sally, I’d recommend a little more of my therapy.’
She smiled in the darkness, snuggled closer. ‘Isn’t honesty the best thing?’