When she whirled around, her breasts bobbed and strained against the slight cups. His hands itched as he imagined plucking and strumming the nipples.
She glowed. Her smile lit the entire night. In that moment, he was struck by the fact that he hadn’t seen her smile, hadn’t seen her look this happy in months.
An uncomfortable tension settled in his stomach. Had he made her so unhappy? Was Paige right? Was he in danger of losing her?
She left you, dumbass. Without a word. No note. No phone call. Took the vacation you promised to take with her. What do you think?
Yeah, he was going to lose her.
His hand trembled as he raised it rub the back of his neck. No, he wouldn’t lose her. Not without a damn fight.
Catherine smiled and laughed then raised her hands above her head and swayed to the frantic beat. The sand flew beneath her feet, and the cool ocean breeze whispered across her face.
Bodies flashed in and out of her vision in blurs of color. She closed her eyes and inhaled the salty air. For the space of a few minutes, she let her sadness go. She was here for a good time. A fresh start.
She danced closer to the incoming tide, and when she reached the perimeter of the crowd, she slipped away to walk down the beach.
The waves reached for her toes, and she playfully dodged the foamy water before finally allowing it to wash over her ankles.
When she’d walked far enough that the sound of the waves drowned out the distant music, she stopped and stared at the horizon. A blanket of stars draped itself over the water, brilliant diamonds twinkling against the black.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it.”
She spun around, shocked to see Logan standing there, hands shoved into his pockets. He looked as though he hadn’t showered, shaved or changed in a week.
Rumpled pants, disheveled shirt. Work clothes.
She finally closed her mouth and tried to control the tremble of her muscles.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
He moved closer until she could see the anger outlined on his face. The moon cast a pale glow over both of them, and she backed hesitantly away until she was ankle-deep in the surf.
His fingers closed around her upper arm, and he pulled her forward until she was clear of the water.
“I came to find you,” he said simply.
“But how did you know where I was?” she asked, still numb with the shock of seeing him. He was here. Not at work.
His expression darkened. “It wasn’t easy. I had no idea where you’d gone. You left no note. Made no call. Just disappeared. I had to assume you’d gone on the trip you’d planned, but even then, I had no idea what arrangements you’d made. Jamaica isn’t such a small place when you have no idea where to begin looking.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and stared defiantly at him. Did the arrogant bastard actually expect her to feel badly after he’d stood her up on their anniversary then cancelled the trip he’d promised he’d take with her?
“Come here,” he said quietly, pulling her into his strong arms.
She was a mass of conflicting emotions as she pressed against his chest. God, it had been so long since he’d held her, touched her. In the past, all it had taken was a simple caress, a few soft words, and she’d forget and forgive.
Not this time.
She started to pull away, but his hold on her tightened.
“Let’s go back to the hotel room. I’m tired. I stink. I’m dirty. I’ve been in these clothes for three days. We can talk after I’ve had a shower.”
“Where is Rhys?” she asked, afraid that maybe he hadn’t come.
“Looking for you,” he said darkly. “Now come on. Let’s go back to the room.”
“You should get your own,” she said quietly.
He stared at her, his eyes blazing, and she looked away, swallowing the urge to run. He reached out, his fingers stroking over her wrist before curling around her palm.
“Come back to our room, Catherine. We’ve come a long way to find you. The least you can do is talk to us.”
Tears brimmed in her eyes, and her nose burned from the effort of holding them back. “Talk? Now you want to talk? After months—years—of ignoring me, now you want to talk?”
She shook from head to toe, and she was fast losing the tenuous grip she had on her emotions.
“Come back with me.”
It wasn’t a request. It was a command. To her dismay, she started forward, allowing him to lead her down the beach toward the hotel.
His fingers remained tightly wrapped around her hand as if he feared she’d flee.
Through the crowd of dancers, up the steps to the veranda and past the live band. Into the cool interior of the hotel, down the hallway to the elevator. They walked, silently.