‘Layla had nothing to do with Grandad’s will being changed. If anyone is to blame for that it’s me. I’ve taken way too long to get on with my life after losing Susannah. But the time is right now and I can’t think of a better person to marry than Layla, who loves this place as much as I do.’
‘Personally, I don’t get what either of you see in this place,’ Robbie said, throwing the castle a look of distaste. ‘It’s old and cold and too far away from any action. You’re welcome to it. And to each other.’
Layla’s cheeks were a bright shade of pink and yet he was proud of the way her chin came up and her grey-green gaze stared his brother down. ‘I know our marriage must’ve come as a complete surprise to you, Robbie, but Logan and I have always been friends. I hope, in time, you can be happy for us.’
Robbie’s smile was cynical. ‘I’ve seen the will. I know what this is—a marriage of convenience to secure Bellbrae. My brother will never love you, Layla. He’s not capable of it.’
‘You’re wrong,’ Layla said. ‘He’s capable of much more than you give him credit for.’
‘I think it might be time for you to leave,’ Logan said to his brother. ‘We’re still on our honeymoon and three’s a crowd and all that.’
Robbie tossed his car keys in the air and deftly caught them, his expression mocking. ‘I give you guys a year, tops.’
That’s all I want, Logan thought.
And Logan led Layla into the castle without a backward glance as his brother roared down the driveway with a squeal of tyres over the gravel.
CHAPTER NINE
LAYLA LOOKED AT Logan once the door was closed on their entry into the castle. His expression was thunderous and a muscle kept flicking in his cheek.
‘Are you okay?’ she asked.
He let out a rough-edged sigh and shrugged himself out of his jacket and hung it on the coat rack near the entrance. ‘I’m sorry about that. My brother can be a prize jerk sometimes. Most of the time, actually.’
‘It’s okay.’ She began to unbutton her own coat. ‘Our relationship must’ve come as a bit of a shock. I mean, you and me? It’s a bit of a stretch to think you would ever be—’
His hand came down in a gentle press on the top of her shoulder, his expression softening. ‘Don’t keep doing that. You’re a beautiful and desirable woman and if things were different, I would...’ He pressed his lips together as if determined not to voice the words out loud.
‘Would what?’ Layla’s voice was barely more than a whisper.
His navy-blue eyes darkened and his other hand came down on her other shoulder. She wasn’t sure who moved first but suddenly they were standing almost chest to chest and hip to hip. The quality of the air changed—a tension was building, crackling, fizzing like a current of electricity singing along a wire. His gaze dipped to her mouth and she heard the intake of his breath. Held her own breath as his head lowered as if in slow motion, down...down...down...
‘Oh, sorry to be a gooseberry!’ Aunt Elsie’s cheery lilt sounded from the right of the foyer. ‘How did the wedding and honeymoon go?’
Logan stepped back but kept one of Layla’s hands in his. ‘It was short but wonderful.’
Aunt Elsie beamed like she was intent on solving an energy crisis for the whole of Scotland. ‘Well, it wasn’t long enough to my way of thinking, which is why I’m going to go on a wee holiday of my own to give you two lovebirds some space.’
Lovebirds? If only. And since when had her great-aunt ever left Bellbrae?
Layla looked at her great-aunt as if she had just said she was going to tap dance on the castle roof. Naked. ‘But where will you go? You haven’t been on a holiday since I don’t know when.’
‘Which is why I’m going now,’ Aunt Elsie said. ‘I’ve booked myself a few days in the Outer Hebrides—on the Isle of Harris to start with. I’ve an old pen-pal from school who lives there. Her husband passed away recently so she could do with some company. You’ll be right with looking after Flossie for a few days?’
‘Of course,’ Logan said. ‘We’re not going anywhere.’
That was news to Layla. What about his big landscaping project in Tuscany that he’d put on hold? Surely he couldn’t postpone it too much longer. She had expected him to deliver her back to Bellbrae and fly out again as soon as he could to put even more distance between them. Had he changed his mind? And if so, why?
‘Do you need transport? A lift anywhere?’ Logan continued.
‘Och, no, I’ve got it all sorted,’ Aunt Elsie said. ‘I’m being picked up in half an hour by my friend’s daughter. I thought that was her just now but I saw it was Robbie. He didn’t stay?’
‘No,’ Logan said, his mouth pulled into a grim line. ‘He had other plans.’
‘Good.’ Aunt Elsie smiled as if she’d just received the best news of the day. ‘You’ll be all alone.’
* * *
Logan left Layla to say her goodbyes to her great-aunt and saw to some business in his grandfather’s study. It was strange to think of it now as his study. Strange but deeply satisfying. He cast his gaze around the room, from the wall-to-wall bookshelves, the leather-topped desk that both his father and grandfather had used, at the Aubusson carpet that generations of McLaughlins had walked on. He looked out of the windows that overlooked the estate—the loch, the forest, the Highlands that were currently shrouded by clouds.
The whole of Bellbrae now belonged to him, thanks to Layla’s willingness to be his bride. His paper bride. He had to keep reminding himself of that simple fact. Not so simple when she made him feel things he didn’t want to feel. Things he had forbidden himself to feel. He had been so close to kissing her before her great-aunt had interrupted them. So close to once again disregarding the rules he had set down. The rules he was having trouble obeying because of the aching need their lovemaking had awakened.
By making love with her, he had crossed a threshold and he couldn’t find a way back. The door had slammed behind him and no matter how hard he tried to prise it open, it wouldn’t budge. His body had been reprogrammed, finely tuned to notice every one of her movements, to respond to every smile or velvet-like touch.
He suppressed a whole-body tremor. It was her touch he craved. The glide of her small hands over his flesh, the press of her soft lips to his mouth, the playful teasing of her tongue, the hot wet tight cocoon of her body.
He wanted it all, hungered for it like he would starve without it. It consumed him like a fever, it occupied his every thought, it kept him from sleep.
Logan walked back to the desk and sent the leather chair into a slow spin, his forehead tight with a frown. He had planned to fly to Italy to check in on his project but he didn’t feel comfortable leaving Layla alone now her great-aunt wouldn’t be at Bellbrae. There were ground staff who came and went on the estate but the castle was a big place to stay in alone. And these days Flossie was hardly what anyone could describe as a guard dog.
There was a tap at the door. ‘Logan?’ Layla’s voice called out.
‘Come in.’
She opened the door and entered the study with the old dog padding slowly behind her. She had changed from her travelling outfit into black leggings and an oversized dove-grey boyfriend sweater that had slipped off one creamy shoulder, revealing the thin white strap of her bra. ‘Am I interrupting you?’
‘No.’ He walked from behind the desk and bent down to scratch Flossie behind the ears. He glanced up at Layla. ‘What’s up?’
She hitched her sweater back over her shoulder. ‘I was wondering what you wanted me to do about...um...our sleeping arrangements.’ Her cheeks were stained a faint shade of pink. ‘Now that Aunt Elsie is going away and Robbie’s not around, we don’t have to share the west tower suite. For appearances’ sake, I mean.’
Logan rose to his full height, only just resisting the urge to put his arms around her and draw her clo
ser. She licked her lower lip and a lightning bolt of lust zapped him in the groin. ‘Are you worried I might not stick to the rules?’ he asked. Damn it. He was worried. Right at that moment he couldn’t think of a single reason why he should stick to the rules.
Her gaze skittered away from his, concentrating on the open neck of his shirt instead. She began to pluck at the overly long sleeve of her sweater as if she needed something to do with her hands. ‘No, of course not. I just thought you’d prefer it if I was in my own quarters. Away from you. Or at least, that’s the message I’ve been getting since we left Hawaii.’
Logan inched up her chin with the end of his finger, meshing his gaze with hers. Every rational cell in his body told him to stop. Do not pass go. Do not go any further. But right then his body was programmed to follow instinct, not rationality. A primal instinct that demanded contact. Physical contact.
Intimate contact.
‘The problem is, I don’t want you away from me.’ He slid a hand behind her head to the nape of her neck under the silky curtain of her hair. ‘I want you close to me. Closer than is probably wise.’ He breathed in the fresh flowery scent of her perfume, his senses going haywire, his blood thickening with each thunderous beat of his pulse.
She closed her eyes in a slow blink, like a sensuous cat enjoying a caress. Her lips softly parting, her breath hitching, her slim throat rising and falling over a swallow. ‘Why is that a problem when I want the same thing?’ Her voice was husky and it sent another punch of lust into his lower body.
Logan slowly brought his mouth down to hers, promising himself one taste, one reminder of how sweet and soft her lips were. But as soon as their lips met, a wave of intense heat swept through him and he deepened the kiss with a gliding thrust of his tongue that made her moan and press herself closer. His arms went around her, holding her to the length of his hardening body, desire hot and strong rippling through him in an unstoppable tide.
He buried one hand in the thick tresses of her hair, the other pressed into the small of her back to keep her pressed against him, his mouth locked on hers in a kiss that sent shivers across his scalp and down the entire length of his spine. He lifted his mouth off hers to graze her neck with his teeth, breathing in the scent of her skin. ‘I can’t tell you how hard I’ve fought with myself not to do this.’
‘But I want you to do it.’ Layla moved against him, sending a whiplash of longing through his body. ‘I want you.’
‘I want you so much it’s driving me nuts.’ He groaned and clamped his mouth back down on hers, their lips moving in perfect motion as if they had been kissing for years. Her tongue touched his and the backs of his knees tingled, his blood pounding through his veins like a tribal drum.
He lifted her sweater so he could access her breasts, desperate to feel her soft creamy skin against his palm. He unclipped her bra to find her nipples were already tightly budded and he lowered his mouth to each one in turn, lavishing them with strokes and licks of his tongue, teasing them with the gentle press of his teeth. She made soft murmurs of approval, her breathing rate increasing, her hands reaching for the waistband of his trousers.
Logan hauled her sweater over her head, tossing it to the floor and only just missing Flossie, who was lying on her side, snoring. It was enough to break his stride and he took a deep steadying breath and grasped Layla by the upper arms. ‘Let’s take this upstairs. I want you to be comfortable and I’d rather not have an audience.’ He jerked his head towards the sleeping dog.
A shadow of worry passed through Layla’s gaze. ‘What if you change your mind before we get upstairs? I thought you were okay with taking our relationship further the other night but then you seemed to change your mind and could barely look at me, much less talk to me.’
He took one of her hands and brought it up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the backs of her knuckles, his eyes locked on hers. ‘If I was a better man—a stronger man—then that’s exactly what I would do. I would reinstate the rules. But apparently I’m not as strong as I thought.’ He released her hand and bent down to retrieve her sweater, helping her put it back on like she was a small child.
She smiled as her head came out of the top of the sweater and something near his heart split open, leaking warmth into every cold and closed-off cavity of his chest. His breath hitched, his heart stuttered, his desire throbbed and pounded. He had never wanted anyone with such fervour, with such ferocity, with such frightening intensity. It was a clawing need inside him that he was worried would get out of control. Making him want her longer than the year they had agreed on. Making him want things he had sworn he would never want again. Closeness, commitment, connection beyond the physical. A lasting connection that would only get deeper, more abiding and bonding each and every year.
But it was a risk he was prepared to take because he couldn’t go another day—another moment—without experiencing the heart-stopping thrill of their intimate union.
Logan framed her face in his hands, lowering his mouth to hers in a lingering kiss, closing down his conscience, shutting away his fears, slamming the door on his damn rules.
He wanted her.
She wanted him.
That’s all that mattered for now.
* * *
Their journey to Logan’s room upstairs was a stop-start affair with kisses and caresses at various points along the way. Finally, they made it to the bed and he laid Layla down and leaned over her, kissing her lingeringly with his hands propped either side of her head, one of his knees resting on the bed near her legs. He raised his head to look down at her. ‘I can’t tell you how much I want you,’ he said, breathing as heavily as her.
‘Then don’t tell me. Show me.’ Layla wound her arms around his neck and brought his head back down so his mouth met hers.
His kiss was deep and thrilling, his tongue dancing with hers in a sexy salsa that made her spine loosen vertebra by vertebra. Her heart picked up its pace, her pulse pounding with the need to have him closer, to feel him skin on skin.
He lifted his mouth off hers to blaze a fiery trail of kisses along the sensitive skin of her neck, down lower to the shallow dish between her collarbones. She shivered in reaction, tingling from head to foot as desire swept through her in hot spreading waves. How could she have spent so many years of her life without experiencing this incredible passion? How could she experience it with anyone else? He was the one who evoked such powerful responses from her. Responses that travelled through her body with the force of a tumultuous storm. A tornado of lust that left her senses spinning in its wake.
Logan helped her out of her clothes and she did the same for him, but with nowhere near the same efficiency. Her fingers fumbled in her haste and he eventually took over the task and stripped off the last of his clothes. He applied a condom and came back down on the bed beside her, gliding his hands over her naked breasts, and her spine arched when his mouth came down to kiss around her achingly tight nipple. Layla made a moaning sound as pleasure shot through her. A dragging ache tugged deep and low in her womanhood—a need that begged to be assuaged.
He took her nipple into his mouth, his lips and tongue caressing it with such exquisite expertise she whimpered and writhed, impatient, greedy, desperate for more. He kissed the gentle slopes of each breast, paying particular attention to the sensitive undersides. She was almost breathless with excitement when his teeth softly grazed each nipple in turn, and her hips rose against him in a wordless plea for him to tame the raging desire barrelling through her body.
‘I’ll take things slowly. I don’t want to hurt you again.’ His voice was deep and low and husky.
Layla stroked her finger along the contour of his bottom lip. ‘You didn’t hurt me the first time and I don’t want you to go slowly. I need you inside me.’ She placed her hands on his buttocks and pushed him down towards her.
He drew in a sharp breath and entered her slickly, visibly fight
ing for control, his features contorted in a mixture of agony and ecstasy. He began to move with gentle thrusts, each one getting deeper and deeper until he was up to the hilt.
He gave a guttural groan and increased his pace and Layla was with him all the way, swept up in the primal rhythm that made her flesh sing. The need spiralled through every part of her body, building to a crescendo.
She hovered at the edge, needing more, straining to reach the final tipping point but not quite able to get there. She whimpered and moved her body against his, desperately seeking more friction. But then his hand slipped down between their rocking bodies to touch her, sending her over the edge into the throes of a powerful orgasm, intensified by his continued thrusting. She shattered into a thousand pieces, her body racked by tingling waves of sensation that went on and on and on, finally leaving her spent and limbless and breathless in his arms.
His release followed on the tail of hers and she drew vicarious pleasure from holding him through each shuddering thrust, riding out the storm with him as he tensed at the point of no return and then finally let go.
Logan lifted his head and, leaning his weight on his elbows, pressed a soft kiss to her mouth. His expression was bathed in lines of relaxation, his gaze warm and heart-stoppingly tender.
‘No regrets?’ His tone was low as a bass chord and it sent a tingly shiver cascading down her spine.
‘None from me,’ Layla said, tracing his upper lip with her finger. ‘You?’
He took her finger into his mouth and sucked on it, his gaze glinting. He released her finger and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his mouth twisting into a rueful line. ‘No. Not one. It was—you were—wonderful.’
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