From Enemies to Expecting(20)

“Well, if I’d known that’s all it took to get you there, I’d have worn this outfit the first day.”

He scowled. “Stop being dense. You’re wearing different clothes. I need to find your closet.”

“Oh, that’s a terrible reason to be in a woman’s bedroom. Just curious, are you going to wrestle me out of this outfit?” Leaning on the open door frame, she contemplated him and pointed down the hall. “Because if the answer’s yes, my bedroom is that way.”

“Fantastic.”

And then, without any warning, he swung her up into his arms as if she weighed no more than a child, slammed the door shut with his foot and carried her to her bedroom. Her pulse tripled as the hard planes of his torso cradled her body. God, he was as solid and strong as she’d always imagined, but he held her gently, as if he didn’t want to break her. If she hadn’t already been snuggled into his embrace, her weak knees might have put her on the floor.

Even though she knew he’d only done it to avoid the rest of the argument, the gesture was so...gallant. As many men as had crossed her threshold, not one had ever treated her like she was delicate, and honestly, she’d have shown every last one of them the door if they had.

There was something about Logan and his old-fashioned streak that hit her between the eyes, almost as if he refused to see her as a sex object, no matter how she regarded herself. It shouldn’t be so affecting. But there it was.

He deposited her on the bed without a word and strode to her closet, throwing wide the doors without hesitation, as if he’d dressed many a woman in his day. And maybe he had.

Oh, hell. She kind of wanted to see what he’d pick out.

“Here.” He came out of the closet with a pair of 7 for All Mankind jeans and a simple black T-shirt that she wore to spin class sometimes. “Put this on.”

She couldn’t help it. She laughed. “So we can be twins?”

He threw the clothes on the bed and hunted around in her drawers until he found a bra and panties, both black, which was an interesting attention to detail she appreciated, completely against her will. When was the last time a man paid that much attention to her?

Handing her the undergarments, he stared down at her on the bed. “No. So I can see the real you underneath all of your deflections.”

The earnestness in his expression froze her lungs and dried up every scrap of amusement in this situation. “What do you mean, the real me? This is as real as I get.”

Before she could move, breathe, blink, he knelt on the bed and grabbed one foot, slowly unbuckling her platform sandal. Transfixed, she watched, too curious where he was headed to stop him.

“In public, it’s not real. Behind closed doors, we’re not anything but two people who don’t know each other. All bets are off. I want to see what you’re hiding underneath all of this outlandishness.”

Oh, God. He was serious. And so intent that it bobbled her pulse. But she was nothing if not voraciously attracted to new experiences. What was the worst thing that could happen? Her pulse thumped as he tossed the first shoe over his shoulder. His gorgeous hazel eyes did not have an ounce of hesitation in them.

“By all means, strip away.” She granted him permission to continue with a wave of her hand as if it didn’t matter, but that would be a lie.

This was far from the first time a man had undressed her. But the way he was doing it tripped a hundred sensors in her chest, warning her it wasn’t going to be like any of those other times.

Despite the heavy awareness spreading across her skin, this wasn’t about sex, and neither of them was confused about that. It was about something else. A quest for knowledge.

She’d always considered herself an open book, but as he dropped the other shoe to her hardwood floor, she suddenly wondered if he’d sense all the dark and personal corners of herself that she’d never shared with anyone.

The brokenness inside wasn’t something she liked to think about.

And that made her want to slam the book shut.

But it was too late. He peeled the catsuit from her shoulders and dragged it to her waist, his gaze locked on to hers, never straying to the skin he was revealing. Somehow, that made the act of him undressing her more sensuous.

She’d expected him to look, to ogle her naked body, because come on. He was a man, as red-blooded as any she’d ever met, and he had pulled out a bra and panties. He knew she didn’t have anything on under this outfit.

Carefully, he lifted her hips and kept going, unwrapping her so slowly that her throat burned. When she twisted to release the fabric from under her legs, his fingertips grazed the brilliant green ivy tattoo twining around her thigh. She could feel the question in his touch, and her muscles quivered.