“Food fight!” she yelled, and ducked behind her chair, taking her bowl with her. Missiles in the form of popcorn flew his way.
Logan stared at the empty chair. “Exactly how old are you right now, Dani?”
Her head poked up. “You mean right now, this minute?”
He nodded.
“I’d say about five.” She giggled, threw more corn at him, and ducked.
Logan had no idea how to play. Just another thing Lovey Dovey had never taught him. But like everything else he knew how to do, he could damn well learn.
Going into soldier mode, he surveyed his surroundings and decided on a surprise rear attack. With his bowl in the cradle of his arm, he slipped behind the end of the sofa. Her head edged up over the chair, and he tossed some popcorn at her. Delighted laughter flowed from her. When she ducked, he slid the sofa away from the wall and started crawling behind it.
“Where are you?” she called in a singsong voice.
“Right here,” he said from behind her, and dumped the contents of his bowl on her head.
She screamed. He tackled her and had her facedown on the floor before she knew what was happening. Straddling her, he wrapped his hands around her wrists and held them above her head. Leaning down, he pressed his mouth to her ear. “Surrender or bear the consequences.”
Her hysterical laughter caused her butt to jiggle against his groin. Logan managed to suppress a groan, but couldn’t resist the urge to press his lips on the soft white spot below her earlobe. He touched the tip of his tongue to her pulse point and felt the throb of her lifeblood.
She quieted and arched her neck, giving him better access. All the reasons why he shouldn’t be doing this forgotten, he nipped at her skin, then soothed the little red marks with soft kisses. She pushed her bottom against him and wiggled it. So damn good, even with their clothing between them, she felt so damned good.
“Logan?”
He flipped her over. “I’m here.”
Still straddling her, he lowered his mouth to hers. She tasted delicious—like buttered popcorn. Never again would he eat the stuff without thinking of Dani. She slid her hands under his shirt, trailing a path up his sides and over his ribs. Did his skin feel as hot to her as it did to him? Lifting up, he stared down at her. Her lips were moist from his kisses, her eyes were the green of a storm-tossed sea, and he was turning into a damned poet.
“Why are you chuckling?”
Was he? “I want you so bad it hurts.”
“You think that’s funny?”
“So much the opposite that one can’t help but laugh.” Holding her gaze, he pushed her T-shirt up over her bra. Christ, he was doomed. The bra was virginal white and little more than lace—innocence and naughty all in one package. How was he supposed to resist that? He simply couldn’t. Lowering his face to a breast, he sucked lace and nipple into his mouth.
“Oh,” she murmured, drawing the word out.
His cock strained against his jeans and he rubbed it against her. He felt her hands fumbling with the snap on his jeans, and when he reached down to help, the phone and doorbell rang simultaneously.
They both froze.
“Let it ring,” she said.
He didn’t know which she meant, maybe both, but he stood and backed away. Fuck. He’d come too damned close this time, the thread on his control slipping knot by knot. “You get the phone, I’ll get the door.” Turning away, Logan was halfway across the room when he heard the voice on the speakerphone.
“Danielle, I’m coming for you.”
CHAPTER NINE
Dani listened to the voice that sounded so much like Evan’s. There had been a time when she’d loved that voice, but no longer. The man on the other end of the phone had taken something precious from her. She clicked off, unable to respond. Instantly, Logan was behind, wrapping her in the safety of his arms.
“What does he mean by he’s coming for me?”
Logan tightened his hold on her. “I won’t let him hurt you.”
Leaning back, she rested her head against his chest and drew on his strength. “Who was at the door?”
“I don’t know, I didn’t make it that far.”
She pulled away and went to the peephole. “It’s the delivery truck with my window.” When she started to unbolt the door, Logan stopped her.
“Let me.” He signed for the packages and carried both in as if they weighed no more than a five-pound bag of potatoes.
“I’ll get the box cutter.”
The antique stained-glass window was as beautiful as she remembered and the mirror just as gaudy. She wasn’t sure which she loved more. Seeing the silhouette of the naked woman, Dani remembered Logan’s suggestion to write a story in which her heroine finds the hero making love to his mistress in front of the mirror. Logan had a mysterious smile on his face as he looked at it. His lashes lifted and he focused on her.