Frost settled over the room, Carson Strang turning and striding from the lodge. Lodge staff slowly managed to get people interested in other things, Logan turning himself and Sam back toward the main room, very aware of their new friends watching them closely.
“I want something tall and frosty to drink,” Sam said through a long breath.
“Hah! I know just the thing!” Chloe declared with a side glance at Simon. “Bella’s bartender makes a positively wicked lime daiquiri. That was some move you used on Strang,” she chatted and looped her arm through Sam’s free arm, guiding her away from Logan and Simon.
Logan shoved his hands in his pockets, his jaw set as he watched the woman disappear into the lounge area.
“You want to talk about it?” Simon went to the smaller bar in the dining area, ordered up two local ales and handed one to Logan.
“Not particularly,” Logan drained half the bottle.
“I’ve seen the press regarding Sam and Strang. I know it’s all Strang’s doing mostly ‘cause Sam is much to smart to have anything to do with him,” Simon half leaned on the bar stool.
“Simon…” Logan did not want to say anything that would disrupt the friendship the two shared. He noticed Damian join them, watching intently.
“You guys look a little tense,” Damian commented, requesting a vodka and tonic.
“Did you take a careful look at the women at the main table, Logan?” Simon began solemnly. “Aside from their unique beauty and exquisite taste in men, they have this weird sister thing going. At times, a tremendous pain in the ass. But at other times, the only thing between you and sanity,” he admitted quietly. “They won’t quit. By now each one of them knows what happened out here. By now my charming wife has got the full story from Sam. Which means the others will know or already do know. Which means you’ve just presented them with a puzzle.”
“Lord help us, but he’s right,” Damian slowly tasted his drink. “Give that group a puzzle, and it’s doomed.”
Dark eyes went from one man to the other, another long swallow of the cold ale. “It isn’t that simple.”
“I know that feeling,” Damian sighed.
Two hands went to the edge of the bar, his fingers curled tightly. “I appreciate your help. I really do. But they can’t get information out of Sam because she can’t remember anything past Friday evening.”
Simon wasn’t sure what he was prepared to hear. He closed his eyes and re-opened them to look at Damian. “I knew it had to be something unusual. Friday you arrived in town, fresh from Reno, and single. At dinner that evening, you were alone and as far as I know, still single.”
“And before midnight, I was married,” Logan pushed the words through his teeth, low and between the three of them only. “And this is not for anyone else’s ears.”
“Let’s go find a quiet table,” Damian suggested without emotion. “Jane is browsing the paintings with a couple of the others.”
They wandered into the lounge, seeking a table in the far corner.
The men were silent. Patient. “You know,” Logan began slowly, his head shaking. “If anyone had told me I’d want to punch a guys’ face in, I’d tell them I was way too old for that garbage.”
“Welcome to the club,” Simon remarked with a grin. “You adjust.”
“The hardest part is accepting that they look like girls. But they’re really secret commandos,” Damian said with a shake of his head, glad of the amusement shared at the table.
“Hey…Damian can relate,” Simon said with a crooked grin. “His first encounter with Jane was to throw her over his shoulder and then into a speed boat, all in an attempt to get her to listen to him.”
“I am never going to live that down,” he said dismally.
“It’s probably already in the sisterhood historical logs,” Simon laughed.
Logan leaned back in the chair, glancing from one to the other. “The thing is…I don’t know how to fix it without making it worse.”
“What happened?”
“I went back to the hotel after dinner with you and just relaxed on the patio,” Logan exhaled slowly, the replay of Sam running on the beach still making him tense up. “I looked over the beach and saw a woman running. Then there was a gunshot.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, no kidding. So I hit the ground running and found Sam laying on her side. She’d fallen on the kelp covered stones and struck her head. No bullet wounds. No sign of a shooter,” Logan ran his hand over his neck, very aware of the people passing near them. “I picked her up and took her back to the hotel. I intended to call the police. Turn the whole thing over them. We got caught in the downpour and were soaked by the time I made the hotel carrying her and her pack.”
“She didn’t wake up?” Damian asked quietly.
“Not then. I got her out of the wet clothes and into one of the hotel robes; left her lying on the bed while I took a shower. I came out of the shower, wearing a matching robe and she was awake, sitting in the middle of the bed,” Logan met their patient stares. “A few sentences later…and I learned the room I’d chosen was the honeymoon suite.”
“Oh, hell…” Simon leaned back, taking in a deep breath.
“And Sam didn’t remember anything,” Logan said flatly. “I kept telling myself it wasn’t my problem. I kept telling myself, just pick up the phone and turn her over to the police. Then she’d look at me with those damned big green eyes…”
“Yeah…” Damian drained his glass.
Simon sighed.
“And now there is no sane way out of this without her coming away seriously pissed,” Logan concluded. “And that idiot Strang…”
“The piece about her being a missing heiress?” Damian leaned his elbows on the table, fingers tented and expression thoughtful.
“According to the police, Strang claimed to be passing by and reported her vehicle abandoned. Backtracking from where I found her on the beach, I was able to take her to the Rover and retrieve it. We had a talk with the police, obviously letting them know she was not among the missing. On top of that, Sam told me she didn’t want anyone to know about the missing memories. She wanted to wait it out,” Logan thumped the empty bottle on the table top.
“Her memory?”
Logan shook his head. “She’s getting bits and pieces. Odd things that are frustrating the crap out of her. But nothing about how she got to the beach or why she was there.”
“Strang’s comment suggests he knows something,” Damian said carefully.
“Yeah…I noticed that,” Logan replied tensely. “Which only means it’s now a race to see how fast she becomes seriously pissed at me.”
“Advice from a couple guys familiar with the breed….they’re logical to a fault, despite being totally girl,” Damian stated slowly.
“So she might be pissed in the beginning, but you’ll be able to recoup over time,” Simon assured him. “The gunshot thing worries me, though. I mean who the hell would be shooting at Sam?”
“And given the little scene tonight, it’s odd that I’m only coming up with one name on that list,” Logan ground out between his teeth. “And the why answer to that…”
“Is locked in Sam’s memory,” Damian sighed heavily.
“There in lies the dilemma,” Logan toyed with the empty bottle. “It’s like a choice between friendly fire and the enemy,” his head shook slowly.
All three looked up when the women approached, each carrying a tall frosted glass. The males looked from one to the other as Anya and Ian joined them at the table, dragging more chairs into the circle.
“You’re looking…calm,” Logan chose his word cautiously, taking the tall glass from Sam’s fingers and sniffing curiously. “Rum?”
“And delicious coconut and nutmeg,” Sam informed him, taking her glass back and holding the straw for a long, slow drink. “It’s incredible.”
“Nothing beats coconut,” Chloe agreed with a nod.
“I would suggest you keep the redhea
ds away from the bar,” Jane said, one brow up with a grin.
“Party pooper,” Sam made a face at her. “This is only the second one. It’s like…like Dairy Queen for adults,” she declared with a satisfied nod.
“Yeah…” Logan just smiled.
“I have been viewing paintings with your mother, Sam,” Anya leaned back in Ian’s arms and laughed. “She is so very much fun. We were talking about designs and sewing. She is quite knowledgeable about costuming.”
“Mother was part of a stage act a long time ago. She learned to sing and dance almost before she could walk,” Sam explained proudly. “Father used to be a magician…she was part of his act, too. I come from a very long line of vaudeville acts. All extremely popular and successful. That’s why I love singing so much, I think. We always had music blasting through the house.”
“She was telling me wonderful stories as we walked,” Anya said with a nod. “She also told me your grandparents were geniuses with investing and that you inherited that skill, too.”
Sam shrugged. “It’s fun.”
“It’s something created by evil demons,” Jane muttered, ignoring the laughter.
“My sweet little genius,” Damian chuckled. “She can build you a solar windmill but don’t mention investing to her.”
“It’s okay,” Chloe told her with a pat on Jane’s palm. “We’ll watch out for you.”
Logan met his brother’s eyes. “You ladies ready to go home?”
“I have had a wonderful night,” Anya stood up with a happy smile. “But I did promise Mark I would swim with him in the morning. It has been so warm, and to a four year old, morning comes very early.”
Sam finished her drink with a slow slurp, palms flat on the table as she surged to her feet. “I am ready for anything. G’night, y’all…see you tomorrow. Thanks, Chloe,” she leaned over and hugged her friend. “Jane,” she hugged her, looking at them both. “Thank you both for listening.”
Logan caught the expression on the faces of Simon and Damian.
“Anything we can help with,” Damian said quietly. “Just let us know.”
“Thanks,” Logan put his hand around Sam’s waist, guiding her toward the door.
Ian lifted Anya from the SUV, his hand on his brother’s arm. “You want help, talk to me.”
“Tomorrow, Ian,” Logan nodded, guiding the SUV to the other end of the crescent. Sam was breathing softly, curled against the door. He opened it carefully, unbuckled her belt and lifted her from the seat. The door to their house opened easily, his foot up and kicking it gently closed.
Their house, he thought. His wife. And he wasn’t about to lose either of them. He undressed her and tucked her beneath the blankets, the light breeze and fog creating a make believe world in the forest around them. Logan pulled his tie free, hung his jacket on the door and leaned back in the chair. Just watching her sleep.
He was accustomed to risk. It had always been part of his life. With choices brought risk. But the thought of risking Sam sent cold chills through him. Logan fell asleep in the chair mulling over options.
Sam stirred a little time later, sitting up with a stretch. The blankets pooled at her waist, one brow up curiously. She blinked in the darkness and slid her feet to the floor, visiting the bathroom before dropping a simple, short shirt over her head. She lightly touched Logan, opening the buttons on his shirt as he stirred.
“Come on, Logan…into bed,” Sam tugged on his palm, pushed the shirt off and opened the front of his slacks.
“I must have fallen asleep in the chair,” he stood up, completing the job of undressing and following her to the bed.
“Why?”
“Just couldn’t shut my brain down,” Logan pulled her against him, his kiss brushing her forehead.
“This is about Strang, isn’t it?” Sam snuggled down with a sigh. “Please don’t let him get to you, Logan. He’s annoying.”
“He manhandled my wife,” Logan said flatly.
“That sounds delightfully macho, but I took care of him, remember?”
“That was a pretty slick move,” he admitted, his palm cupping her shoulder.
“Can’t go into places I’ve been without being able to take care of myself, Logan. I can shoot, too…” Sam yawned.
Logan closed his eyes, easily falling asleep with Sam cuddled against him.
Chapter Fourteen
Sam looked at the reflection in the mirror. She liked the black evening gown and she especially liked the effect of the onyx choker. She slid her feet into the heels and pushed the gold and black hair pin into the neatly arranged bundle at her neck. The hem of the gown swirled around her ankles, the slit offering a long view from floor to mid thigh.
Logan felt his jaw drop when she came out of the dressing room. This was one of the dresses she bought while out with Anya. This dress clung to each and every single feminine curve. The top was low and had sparkling slender black straps that showed off her smooth shoulders. She turned slightly to adjust her heel and he knew every bit of common sense vanished. There was almost no back on the dress.
“You like?”
“I…” Logan watched her walk, lift her little bag from the bed and move to the stairs of the loft.
“I’ll take the stunned male gleam in your eyes as a yes,” Sam grinned and went to the front door.
“You two are never going shopping alone!” Logan called as the front door opened.
Anya winked at Sam. “I take it he likes the new dress?”
“I swear to god…” Ian followed her with a low growl. His eyes went from the redhead in black to the brunette he’d escorted there. Anya’s dress was similar to the one Sam wore, only in a deep shade of yellow. “There’s no back on that damn dress!”
“They are brothers, remember?” Sam chuckled.
Anya faced Ian, hands on her hips. “We are women. We enjoy being women,” she stepped closer, her voice dropping seductively. “And you enjoy knowing that we…go home only with you,” she put her hands on his face, kissing him softly.
Sam smiled, her palm out to Logan as he came to her side.
“You’re beautiful…both of you,” Logan said honestly. “Sexy, feminine and lovely. Let’s go…we have friends to join,” he tucked her hand on his arm.
Logan watched as they girls all gathered before the dinner, standing and talking, comparing dresses while the males just stared like lambs to the slaughter. He realized he wasn’t the only one of them who thought he had been in control of his life.
Sam relaxed much later, dancing to the soft music with her arms around his neck. “Hmmm…me thinks your palms have strayed a bit, Logan.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” was his sexy response, his fingers dipping inside the low back of her dress. “Here I thought it was an open invitation.”
“Perhaps it was a lure,” she teased, giggling softly when his mouth roamed along her throat. "It’s going to be a long drive home if you continue that, Logan. We drove up with Anya and Ian, remember?”
Logan swore softly. He’d forgotten about their double dating arrangement. His hands reluctantly moved higher on her back.
“This is just wrong,” he muttered at her laugh.
“Poor dear,” Sam brought her palms around, cupping his face. “I’m going to the restroom. Get something cold to drink.”
“No kidding,” Logan wandered to the bar.
Sam left the restroom and saw her mother near the front door, striding up to her parents.
“Darling! You look amazing,” Elizabeth took Sam’s hands and stepped back. “We meant to come over to your table, but got sidetracked with some friends.”
“It’s okay, mother,” Sam looped her arm through her mother’s and walked with them to the wide front porch. She leaned on the high stone wall.
“It’s a wonderful lodge,” Morgan said with a nod.
“Samantha, I want to talk to you,” Carson Strang moved to stand in front of her, his voice hard and cold.
Sam looked toward
the entrance. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”
“Why are you harassing my daughter, Strang?” Morgan Elliott glared at the man.
“I spoke to the police,” he said as if no one had spoken.
“I hope they cautioned you about filing inaccurate missing person’s reports,” Sam said flatly.
“I couldn’t figure out why they hadn’t come to see me, you see,” he continued, watching the woman carefully. “Then last night, it came to me when we were talking.”
“Carson, listen to me,” Sam began slowly. “I do not understand what your fixation is with me. I honestly don’t.”
“There was only one explanation. The police told me you were off getting married on Friday morning.”
“Why is my life your business?” Sam demanded, her hands flying into the air in frustration.
“Because you weren’t getting married on Friday morning,” he told her harshly. “I met you just outside your house. I rode with you to where you left your car.”
“You’re wrong…why in the world…”
“You’re being used by Sheffield,” he spit out angrily.
“Get away from me,” her voice fell to a rough command.
“You weren’t off getting married, because you were with me Friday. Until you ran from the car,” he continued coldly.
“Sam…” Logan spoke her name, her eyes shifting swiftly from Carson Strang to him and back. He knew in that instant that she remembered everything. The expressive hurt in her eyes tore through him like a blazing inferno.
“You threw my keys out onto the sand,” Samantha said coldly. “You tried to rape me and force me to marry you just to get your hands on my money. Yes, the police should have been to see you, should have thrown you into jail. And they still might because you won’t go away and leave me alone. I don’t want anything to do with you, don’t you get it? I do not like you. Even a little bit.”
“And Sheffield is any better?”
WindSwept Narrows: # 1 Samantha Elliott Page 12
