“You know, I vaguely remember that story now, from some history lesson when I was in grade school. Anyhow, it’s not camels I’m afraid of as much as bears. I’ll just change here behind the buggy.”
She went to the opposite side and quickly shucked off her jeans and shirt, wriggling into her black swimsuit in record time. She felt a little self-concious as she moved towards Logan, and she shivered.
Her one-piece suit was fashionable and quite respectable by her standards, but she had some idea now what a woman’s swimsuit might look like in 1868—knee length, bulky, and concealing—and this sleek garment wasn’t any of those things.
The moon was bright enough so that she could see the look on Logan’s face when he caught sight of her, and she knew immediately that the suits he was used to weren't anything like the one she had on.
His expression made her want to giggle. The unflappable Logan McGraw was staring at her with his jaw hanging slack.
He felt as if he were bareback astride a runaway horse. For a moment he couldn’t get his breath. She was a near-naked vision out of a dream, lush, breathtaking in the silver wash of the moon. The black chemise-like garment she wore left little to the imagination; each rounded curve, each swell and hollow, was traced faithfully by fabric that clung as lovingly as her own skin to the contours of her beautiful body.
He knew then that he hadn’t brought her here to swim. At some point during the past twenty-four hours, he'd given up the struggle to be honorable. He no longer cared that it was wrong to want her in his arms. The only thing he was certain of was that he wasn’t about to wait any longer. It went even beyond want. She was a craving he could no longer deny.
“Hannah. My god, Hannah, you’re beautiful.”
A powerful shaft of desire speared through him, and he took a step towards her. Running purely on need, he drew her fiercely into his arms, trailing his hands down her shoulders and arms. The feel of her naked skin beneath his palms drove him nearly mad with desire.
She looked up at him, and in the instant it took to lower his mouth to hers, she drew in a shivery breath.
His lips captured her mouth and his hands slid down her body. He felt the muscles beneath the satiny skin contract as his slow, searching palms smoothed across her buttocks and then cupped them, learning the shape and size of her, drawing her sharply into his body, against his erection.
She bucked against him and cried out, a single, wordless song of need.
He reached behind her, to the long single plait of hair hanging down her back, and with nimble fingers he unfastened it, gently loosening the braid, combing the silky mass free with his fingers so he could bury his face in its sweet smelling glory.
"I love your hair. I long to do this every time I'm near you."
An exultant sense of rightness overcame him. They were meant to be together, he and Hannah. Somehow they'd found one another even across the limitless boundaries of time and space.
He cursed himself for wasting precious days, but he intended to waste no more.
Worshipping her with his hands, he delved beneath the mantle of hair and brought his palms up the sleekness of her ribs, taking her breasts in his hands through the silky fabric, weighing them, glorying in the way her nipples hardened beneath his stroking fingers.
All the while his mouth devoured her, tongue promising, probing, sliding from her mouth to her cheeks, her jaw to her ears and throat, unable to get enough of her taste, of the salt of her sweat and the underlying delicious, subtle tang that was purely Hannah.
There was no resistance, and he expected none. The boundaries they'd drawn in the past were meaningless now. In the space of a few moments, an agreement had been reached, needing no words.
She responded to him fully, pressing against him in reckless abandon, eyes closed, beautiful face intent and yearning, her arms clinging to his back.
When his hand slid down her stomach and came to rest between her legs, he cupped the damp mound outlined by the narrow band of fabric, and she arched against his palm and moaned, wet and so ready for him that he had to grit his teeth lest his body betray him before he even got his clothing off.
As if she sensed what he wanted, her hands came round to his chest and unfastened the buttons of his shirt. She pressed her face to his bare chest, touching her lips to his skin, making him shudder.
He slid out of his shirt, and now her skin was against his, tender and satiny against his hair roughened chest. He could feel her nipples, hard and thrusting, through the fragile fabric of the swimsuit she still wore. Unable to stand even the slightest barrier between them, he searched in a fever for some fastening, some method of removing the garment, but there were no buttons, no snaps that he could find anywhere.
How the hell had she gotten into the thing?
Understanding, smiling up at him, she raised her fingers to her shoulders and tugged, illustrating how the magical fabric gave freely.
He put his hands to the straps and stretched them down her arms, and the garment peeled away from her body like the skin from an orange.
"Hannah. Oh, Hannah.”
He dipped his head and took the tight bud of one nipple into his mouth, suckling gently before he turned to the other. Such magnificent breasts, rounded and full, satin against his cheek and his lips.
She gasped and clung to him.
“Hannah, my lovely Hannah." The beauty of her name rolled from his tongue like a love song.
She moaned and he unbuckled his belt, stripping off boots and pants. In the absence of a blanket, he carefully spread his discarded shirt on the grass before he tugged her down beneath him.
The smell of growing things mingled with the intoxicating perfume he associated with her, a faint reminder of apples in springtime. He could wait no longer. His flesh burned for her.
He straddled her naked body, bending to kiss her mouth, a kiss wild and deep. As he did so he slid a hand down, touching her naked wet flesh, exploring the swollen folds and searching out the moist nub that ensured her pleasure, circling it slowly and then more firmly with his finger until she cried out and writhed beneath him.
Only then did he enter her, smooth and slow, burying his tortured flesh to the hilt.
As he thrust into her, Hannah grew blind and deaf to everything except the new rush of pleasure that consumed her. She wrapped her legs around him, reaching up to touch his face with her fingertips as exquisite heat and desperate hunger gathered and slowly grew inside of her.
Their bodies were slick with sweat, and the musky male scent of him filled her nostrils. She could feel him in the very core of her being, rocking in a rhythm that her body recognized and strove to emulate.
The intensity built until she thought she would die of it, and now she took desperate handfuls of his long, thick hair in her fists.
"Hurry, oh please, Logan, now, please—"
He should have been beyond control, but he wasn’t. He was waiting for her. He surged into her, again and yet again, and she hung suspended on an agonizing cusp for what seemed an eternal moment.
Then her body shattered, clamping and convulsing so violently, some faraway part of her was terrified at the intensity.
His climax began an instant after hers, and with his shout of release she felt his seed spurt hotly into her. They’d taken no precautions. She understood at that moment that she could become pregnant with his child, and she gloried in the thought.
She understood as well that until now, she’d never understood what passion really meant. She might as well have been a virgin, because what she'd just experienced with Logan was not comparable to anything she’d ever felt before. The feelings that engulfed her in dizzying waves of intensity had no precedent in her experience.
If this was how lovemaking was meant to feel, it was new to her, strange and wonderful.
So this was what her mother and her father had shared.
This was at the heart of the love Daisy had had for Michael.
For the first time, Hannah u
nderstood. Logan collapsed over her and, careful not to crush her. He rolled to his side, holding her close.
For a long while they lay entwined, breath and heartbeats gradually becoming normal once again.
The mare whinnied, and Hannah started in his arms.
Logan laughed softly. "Poor old horse. I forgot to unhitch her and she’s righteously angry with me.” He kissed Hannah’s neck. "Stay here. I’ll be back in a moment.”
He got to his feet, unabashedly naked. He pulled on only his boots, which should have looked ridiculous but instead, Hannah decided, was incredibly sexy, and went to tend to the animal.
Hannah watched him, his tall male body with its powerful muscles splendid in the moonlight. His stomach was flat, his legs long and strong and well formed, his shoulders broad. His strength showed in the effortless way he moved, the easy, offhand way he unhitched the horse and tethered her to a nearby tree so she could graze.
He spoke softly to the mare and rubbed her neck, then went to the buggy and retrieved towels. He turned and came walking back towards Hannah.
He was a beautiful man. She tried to remember what Brad looked like naked, but the image was blurred. He wasn’t as muscular as Logan, that was certain, but what had his face looked like?
She closed her eyes, but the face that sprang to mind was Logan’s.
She opened her eyes again, and he was standing over her, reaching down to pull her effortlessly to her feet.
"I thought you wanted to swim, woman, and here you are lying about in the grass instead."
His tone was light, but the way he drew her into his arms and held her for a long moment tight against him was an indication that what had happened between them had affected him deeply, just as it had her.
With an arm around her bare shoulders, he led the way down to the lake. The beach was covered in small, sharp stones, and he swung Hannah up in his arms and carried her down to the water.
He set her down to pull off his boots, and hand in hand, they waded in.
Just as she’d suspected, the water was icy cold against her skin; she drew in a shocked breath and then splashed his stomach.
"Vixen," she heard him gasp as she dove, and when she surfaced, he was swimming beside her. Like her, he was a strong swimmer, at home in the water.
After the initial shock, her body adjusted to the cold, and it felt wonderful to swim hard, to duck beneath the surface and feel the water close above her head, knowing Logan was only an arm’s length away.
They splashed and played like children, shouting and teasing, laughing with abandon.
When they’d had enough, they scrambled out, wincing and laughing as they limped together over the sharp stones.
Logan wrapped a towel around her shoulders and spread the other on the grass, drawing Hannah down beside him, his arm around her. He took her hand and his fingers searched out her engagement ring, twisting it on her finger.
"If you found a way back, would you go?”
It was a question Hannah didn’t want to think about. Each hour she spent in Barkerville made her other life seem further and further away, but that didn't mean she liked being in Barkerville. She’d done her best to adjust in every way she could, but she still longed for her old life, her job, her friends, her apartment.
"I don’t think we’re going to find any way back,” she replied, knowing she wasn’t really answering his question.
She waited a heartbeat, and then she said in a hesitant voice, “If we did, if it was possible, would you come with me, Logan?"
Yesterday’s Gold: Chapter Eighteen
He didn’t answer for a moment.
“I have business I have to attend to here. I couldn’t go until it was concluded.”
She felt irritated and ridiculously disappointed, considering that the idea of traveling through time again was like expecting lightning to strike twice in the same place.
“What business, Logan? The Nugget?"
“No."
The flat denial, with no explanation, irritated her even more. They were lovers. She’d answered all his questions honestly and openly.
"Why did you come to Barkerville?" She’d asked before, but his answer hadn’t satisfied her. Some instinct told her that there was more to know.
“I’ve told you, I'm a gambler. There’s as much gold to be made here at a gaming table as there is sweating in a mine."
“But you have some other business as well? Something secret, that you don’t want to discuss with me?”
"It’s not a thing I can talk about, Hannah. Not with you or anyone." He drew her closer to his body, but she pulled away, angry now and hurt that he didn’t feel he could confide in her.
"Secrets are very bad, Logan," she snapped. “Two people need absolute honesty between them if a relationship is going to work.”
His voice was deceptively mild. "You and your affianced, this Brad, you were always totally honest with one another?”
“Yes, we were.” She pulled her legs up and circled them with her arms, aware of the hypocrisy of discussing Brad while she sat stark naked under the moon with another man. “I wouldn’t have dreamed of keeping secrets from him, or he from me.” She looked at Logan defiantly.
He was studying her, and his eyes looked black in the moonlight, the lines of his face harsh.
"You lied, Hannah. To him, to yourself, and now even to me.”
"How dare you say that?" Shocked and insulted, she tried to throw his arm off her shoulders, but he held her firmly, his voice still soft but relentless.
“You insist that you love him, but in my arms it isn’t him you think of, is it, Hannah? It wasn’t his name on your lips when you shuddered and clung to me up there on the grass. So how could you have loved him the way you claim?"
Shame rolled over her in a hot wave. He was taunting her, making a mockery of what had happened between them.
“Let me go. How can you do this? How can you say such things?" She was close to tears, and she struggled to break free of his arms, but he held her easily.
“Listen to me, sweetheart. Listen, and be honest with yourself this once, if you value honesty as you say you do.”
She realized that he was angry, just as angry as she.
"Did it feel like this when he kissed you?" He set his mouth on hers and she tried to turn her head, but he held her chin easily, kissing her relentlessly until she stopped struggling and desire mixed sharply with her anger.
He sensed it and eased her back, using her towel to protect her from the earth, and now his mouth found her breasts. The wet heat, the soft tickling of his mustache against her naked skin, inflamed her against her will, and her nipples hardened under the onslaught of his tongue.
"Did you feel this way in his arms, Hannah?"
She was stubbornly silent, willing herself not to respond, but he reached down to inflame her with his fingers and she moaned against his throat and moved with the rhythm he established.
She could feel the weight and heat of his erection against her belly, and she reached a greedy hand down to guide him inside her.
He gripped her wrist and held her still.
"My name, Hannah. Say my name."
She turned her head away from his kisses, but his skin pressed against hers, rough where she was soft, and the ache between her legs intensified, making her gasp with desire.
He reached for the finger that wore the engagement ring and slowly, gently, pulled it off.
"This is a lie, Hannah. You belong to me. You've always belonged to me."
She could have stopped him, but she didn’t.
“You're mine, Hannah. Tell me that you’re mine."
She refused to answer. Slowly, so slowly she wanted to scream at him to hurry, he entered her, and with a sob, she moved her hips, her body tensing, striving for fulfillment. Her legs came up and clasped his hips, urging, begging.
He moved slowly, thrusting until his entire length filled her.
"Say it, Hannah. Say that you’re mine." Sh
e flexed her inner muscles and he groaned.
"Damn you, you stubborn woman. Say it, Hannah. Say…..it."
She couldn’t take it any longer.
“Logan. Logan, please. I need you, Logan."
He began moving with a powerful rhythm, and she drew in a sobbing breath, understanding with every cell in her body what it was he needed from her. Wild and free, she rode the crest with him, and as it broke she cried out his name, again and again.
And as waves of unbearable ecstasy crested and waned, she said what she'd struggled so hard to deny.
"Logan, I love you. I love you, Logan."
He kissed her and smoothed back the tangle of her hair.
"And I you."
He sighed and rested his chin on her forehead, and then he rolled them both so her body rested on him. The sadness in his voice was palpable when he spoke again.
“You love me, but if the road is there, you’ll go back.”
There was no longer room between them for anything but truth.
"Yes. I’d have to go." She wrapped her arms around him and held him close, and the words hurt her heart.
"My business will be concluded before winter, but I can’t be sure of its outcome, except that if all goes well I'll be leaving Barkerville, and I won’t return."
It seemed they had no future, but if she’d learned anything from the bizarre path her life had taken, it was that absolutely nothing was certain, and anything was possible.
"We have right now, Logan." She bent her head and kissed him.
It was nearly dawn when Hannah crept into the dark bedroom with the taste and feel of Logan’s last kiss on her lips and her engagement ring in the pocket of her jeans.
Klaus growled at her and she shushed him. She slipped out of her clothes and tossed them on the chair, feeling around for her nightshirt.
“Use the flashlight, dear, I'm not asleep. Did you have a good swim?"
Now and Forever: Time Travel Romance Superbundle Page 54
