Love's Only Deception

by Carole Mortimer

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You can feel it too?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He frowned, shaking his head. ‘I can’t understand it.’

  Callie gently touched his rigid jaw, understanding that part of the reason for his mercurial moods was his complete puzzlement with the way he felt about her. ‘Do you have to?’

  ‘A week ago, five days ago, I hadn’t even met you, now I don’t like to think how empty my life was without you.’

  ‘It wasn’t empty, Logan,’ she shook her head. ‘You had other interests, other friends—’

  ‘Other friends, yes,’ he acknowledged bitterly. ‘Sexual friends. Does that bother you?’

  ‘Does it bother you?’

  ‘At the time, no. Now—’

  ‘You can never go back and change your life, Logan,’ she interrupted softly. ‘If you were happy with it at the time then now you just have to accept it.’

  He looked down at her frowningly. ‘Another quote from this male friend of yours?’

  ‘It didn’t sound like me, hmm?’ she said ruefully.

  ‘It sounded like someone who’s lived life a lot longer than you have.’

  ‘You’re right,’ she smiled. ‘He was a lot older than me, but the wisest, gentlest—’

  ‘Careful,’ Logan warned gruffly, ‘or I’ll be getting jealous!’

  ‘You have no need to be. He’s dead now, so he can’t hurt you,’ she said dully.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ his regret was genuine.

  ‘So am I,’ she bit her lip. ‘I’ll tell you about him some time—but not yet.’

  ‘The wound’s still too raw, is it?’

  She wouldn’t have exactly called it a wound, more a deep loss. But he was right, it was too recent for her to talk about Jeff unemotionally.

  ‘Kiss me, Logan,’ she invited huskily.

  ‘Oh, I intend to,’ he drawled. ‘Very thoroughly. In fact, I’ve been looking forward to it.’

  ‘You have?’

  ‘Haven’t you?’

  He must know she had. All through dinner, the drive here, they had been aware only of each other, the sensual tension building up by the second.

  As their lips met Callie felt as if she had come home, as if she had found the other half of herself, their bodies fitting perfectly together.

  ‘Oh, Callie, Callie,’ Logan murmured between kisses, gently probing the edge of her lips, his hands at her nape releasing the single fastening of the halter-necked dress, the soft velvet material like a caress as it fell down to her waist, her breasts bared to his questing hands, touching her nipples until she arched against him.

  ‘Logan!’ she gasped as his hand closed firmly over one taut pink nub, bending her back over his arm as he thoroughly explored each rosy peak with leisurely ease, his hands moving up and down her spine in a slow caress.

  ‘Callie, this may be insane,’ he groaned against her flesh, ‘but I think I’m falling in love with you!’

  ‘Only think?’

  ‘After thirty-five years I’m not sure I’d recognise it if it hit me in the face,’ he admitted ruefully. ‘But I do know I’m more attracted to you than to any other woman I’ve ever met. I also know I think about you all the time I’m away from you.’

  ‘That’s enough for now,’ she smoothed the hair at his temples, lovingly noticing a sprinkling of grey among its dark thickness.

  Logan raised his head to look at her. ‘Is it?’ he frowned.

  ‘Yes,’ she kissed the side of his mouth. ‘We have time, Logan, plenty of time.’

  ‘Yes…’ His mouth once more claimed hers.

  Callie responded without reserve, more sure than Logan, knowing that this was the man she loved, the man she wanted to be with for all time.

  She slipped his jacket from his shoulders, unbuttoning his shirt, until their heated flesh seared together, her nipples hardened against his rougher skin. It was all happening so beautifully, so naturally, that there was no thought of denial, only rising pleasure, a deep ache in the pit of her stomach that was almost a pain.

  And Logan was as affected as she was, a glazed look to his eyes as he kissed her throat and breasts, his breathing ragged, the pulsating of his thighs Heavy against hers.

  ‘No more.’ He put her away from him with a groan.

  ‘Logan…?’ she reached out for him.

  ‘No, Callie!’ He closed his eyes to her as he fought for control. ‘For once in my life I’m going to do this right. I’m no saint, darling,’ he buttoned his shirt, smoothing back his tousled hair. ‘Far from it, in fact,’ he added derisively. ‘But I’m not going to rush anything with you. Like you said, we have time.’

  She felt disappointment, sitting up to refasten the halter-neck at her nape, her hair becoming entangled in the button.

  ‘Here, let me,’ Logan offered, his fingers impersonal against her nape.

  Callie trembled with reaction; she was not sophisticated enough to deal with the sexual disappointment as easily as Logan seemed to. He turned her gently to face him, his eyes darkening to a smoky grey as he saw the tears shimmering in her eyes.

  ‘Darling, don’t cry,’ he pulled her into his arms with a groan. ‘Don’t cry, Callie,’ he smoothed her hair in soothing movements.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she sniffed. ‘I-It—’

  ‘I know, my darling,’ he said softly. ‘And I’m sorry. But I don’t want to ruin anything between us.’ His hands cradled each side of her face. ‘Forgive me?’

  Forgive him for not making love to her? She should be thanking him! She had been beyond saying no herself, had been lost in mindless wonder of her love for this man. And yet she didn’t feel like thanking him, still ached for him.

  ‘Callie?’

  She drew a shaky breath. ‘There’s nothing to forgive,’ she gave a jerky smile. ‘I should be relieved you said no—’

  ‘I didn’t say no,’ he groaned, his eyes still dark. ‘I just said not yet.’

  ‘Yes,’ she smoothed the skirt of her dress. ‘Would you like some coffee now?’

  ‘No, thanks.’ He pulled on his jacket, doing up the buttons to his shirt. ‘I have to go. Lunch tomorrow?’

  ‘I—’

  ‘It will save the telephone call,’ he encouraged.

  ‘But not my waistline!’ Callie joined in his lighter mood, glad that Logan was controlling the situation, knowing that he was right to do so.

  ‘Your waistline doesn’t need saving,’ he said huskily. ‘It’s perfect as it is.’

  ‘That’s what I mean,’ she teased. ‘I don’t want to get any fatter.’

  ‘You aren’t fat, you’re perfect.’ He held her hands in his. ‘Please meet me for lunch, Callie. It’s such a long time until the evening.’

  She felt the same way, and despite the fact that Logan had admitted to being anything but an innocent where women were concerned, she knew this wasn’t a line—and that he was as bewildered by this overwhelming attraction as she was.

  ‘All right, lunch. But we can’t go out to dinner too, or I really will get fat. Come here for the evening,’ she suggested eagerly.

  A pulse beat erratically at his jawline. ‘I don’t think that would be a good idea.’

  ‘Oh, Logan—’

  ‘We have to meet on mutual ground, Callie,’ he insisted. ‘It’s the only way I can get through this. We’ll go to a club I know, have a few drinks, dance a little.’

  ‘Dance?’ she said hopefully.

  ‘Yes,’ he gave a rueful smile. ‘I think I can trust myself that much.’

  ‘I hope not,’ she taunted.

  ‘Callie,’ he laughed softly, ‘you aren’t very good for my self-control!’

  ‘And you aren’t very good for mine,’ she said throatily.

  ‘Lunch,’ he said briskly. ‘I know the agency you work for, so I’ll pick you up.’

  He called for her every day that week, and the next, meeting her every evening too. For Callie the attraction was still as fresh and strong, and as she
watched the way Logan merited respect wherever they went, for a meal, to the theatre, a club, her love deepened. He continued to treat her with easy charm that came so naturally to him, the intensity of their second evening spent together kept firmly at bay.

  In the middle of the second week Bill telephoned her to say he had managed to get the shareholders’ meeting put off until the New Year. ‘Although Sir Charles wasn’t very pleased about it,’ he added with satisfaction.

  ‘Poor Sir Charles,’ she said unsympathetically.

  ‘That’s what I thought.’ The grin could be heard in his voice. ‘Not least of his gripes seemed to be that you aren’t seeing his son any more.’

  ‘Thank God!’ she groaned.

  ‘I gathered from Marilyn that he wasn’t exactly the catch of the season. But Sir Charles doesn’t seem very happy about you spoiling all his plans.’

  ‘Plans for me to marry his son,’ she said disgustedly. ‘I never heard of anything so archaic!’

  ‘No. By the way, I’ve been calling you the past three nights and getting no reply. Found yourself a boy-friend?’ he teased much as an older brother might.

  ‘As a matter of fact, yes,’ she admitted shyly.

  ‘Good for you!’ Bill sounded genuinely pleased. ‘Marilyn and I have been worried about you since Jeff died,’ he added softly.

  ‘I know,’ she said huskily. ‘And I appreciate it. But I’ve met someone, Bill, and—well, he—he’s just wonderful.’

  ‘I can tell,’ he chuckled. ‘Wait until I tell Marilyn!’

  Callie knew her friend would be overjoyed, that Bill was too. They really had been very good to her since Jeff died. ‘Once you’re back home I’ll have you all over for dinner,’ she promised.

  ‘Must be serious if you’re actually going to cook,’ Bill teased.

  Callie laughed too. Almost everyone who knew her also knew that she hated to cook, even more so since she had been on her own. ‘This will be a special occasion,’ she explained.

  ‘It must be!’

  ‘Bill…!’ she warned.

  ‘Okay, okay,’ he laughed. ‘Ted’s well on the way to recovery now, although it’s a slow process. But we’ll be home soon, Marilyn can’t stand being in the kitchen with her mother,’ he said with satisfaction. ‘And Paul is really getting spoilt.’

  ‘Sounds like you’re having fun,’ Callie commented.

  ‘Oh, we are!’

  ‘At least I’m glad about Marilyn’s father.’

  ‘We all are,’ he said seriously. ‘I’ll speak to you again next week. You never know, I should have that report ready as a Christmas present.’

  ‘Thanks,’ she laughed.

  ‘Seriously, Callie, would you like someone else to do it?’

  ‘Seriously, Bill, no. Christmas is only three weeks away, and as the meeting isn’t until New Year I don’t need it yet. About Christmas—’

  ‘I doubt we’ll be back, Callie,’ he said regretfully. ‘Maybe-your boy-friend will keep you company.’

  She hadn’t dared to think as far away as Christmas, although the thought of spending the time with Logan filled her with warm anticipation. Just thinking about Logan at all filled her with warmth. ‘Maybe,’ she agreed non-committally. ‘But I’ll still miss little Paul.’

  ‘I see,’ Bill mocked.

  She was instantly contrite. ‘I didn’t mean it like that!’

  ‘I know you didn’t,’ he laughed. ‘Look, I have to go now, love, but Marilyn will probably call you for a chat in the week—if you can be reached!’

  ‘I don’t usually go out until eight o’clock, and I’m home by six. That gives you two hours to—’

  ‘I’m only joking, Callie,’ he teased. ‘Only joking. But tell him he’s a lucky man.’

  ‘But I already knew it,’ Logan said later that evening when she passed on Bill’s message.

  ‘Flatterer,’ she blushed.

  ‘Not at all. And I would like us to spend Christmas together,’ he added deeply.

  Happiness lit her face, only to fade seconds later. ‘But won’t you be spending it with your mother?’

  ‘If she’s back by then,’ he said dryly, ‘we can both spend it with her.’

  ‘Back?’ Callie sipped her wine.

  He nodded, very dark and distinguished in his black evening suit. ‘I had a call from her this afternoon, she told me she had to get away from the family pressure.’

  Callie’s brows rose. ‘You?’

  ‘No,’ his mouth quirked with amusement, ‘not me. My mother is in business with my uncle, and just lately he’s been more pushy than usual. I don’t have a lot of time for my uncle’s machinations myself. Anyway, the outcome of it is that my mother has gone to Switzerland to stay with a couple of her cronies. She could be back before Christmas, but then again she may not be.’

  ‘Then that means the ballet is off.’ Callie hid her disappointment well. Meeting Logan’s mother had been like a talisman to her. The passion they had shared on their second evening together had never been repeated, in fact Logan hadn’t been in her flat since, and the thought of meeting his mother had given her hope that he might feel as seriously about their relationship as she did. Now that stability had been taken away from her.

  ‘No, I’ll still take you.’ He clasped her hand as it lay on the table. ‘After all, I already have the tickets.’

  She didn’t care about seeing the ballet, it was not seeing his mother that upset her. ‘That will be nice,’ she sighed.

  He frowned. ‘You don’t sound very enthusiastic.’

  She gave a bright, meaningless smile. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘If you don’t want to go—’

  ‘Of course I want to go,’ she contradicted, shaking off her feelings of disappointment with effort. After all, Logan had invited her to spend Christmas with himself and his mother. That was even better than the ballet.

  But Mrs Carrington seemed in no hurry to come back to England, and two days before Christmas Logan had still had no word of her return.

  ‘It’s nothing unusual,’ he dismissed her show of concern. ‘She often has these impromptu holidays, to get away from my uncle. But there’s no reason why we shouldn’t spend Christmas together.’

  ‘Your place or mine?’ Callie said cryptically. So far she hadn’t seen Logan’s apartment, as Logan had kept to his decision that they meet on mutual ground. But they could hardly spend Christmas in a restaurant, not even one as elegant as the one they were eating in tonight!

  His mouth quirked with amusement. ‘That’s a point,’ he said dryly. ‘Maybe my mother will get back after all.’

  ‘Logan—’

  ‘Logan, darling!’ purred a seductively female voice. ‘How lovely to see you again! You’ve been quite unsociable lately, darling,’ she added reprovingly, bending towards him over the table.

  Callie looked up at the most beautiful woman she had ever seen, the thickly waving red hair was strangely familiar to her. Of course, the night she and Logan had met! This was the beautiful Danielle, the woman Logan had stopped seing in preference to her.

  The woman stood almost six feet in height, her model-girl figure barely covered by the low-cut backless dress, although the dress was worn with such grace and style that it couldn’t possibly be offensive. As Callie looked into her face she was amazed at the hardness of the blue eyes, although the hardness disappeared as her gaze returned to Logan.

  He had stood up as soon as Danielle spoke, the two of them of similar height. ‘Danielle,’ he greeted tightly.

  ‘Aren’t you going to introduce us, darling?’ She looked pointedly at Callie, the expensive perfume she wore slightly overpowering, certainly not the lighter Passion that she modelled for Logan’s company.

  He made the introductions stiltedly, obviously not welcoming this interruption by his ex-girl-friend. Callie had an idea that when an affair ended for Logan then it ended for good. She shivered at the thought of their own relationship ending the same way.

  ‘Are you
here alone?’ He spoke politely enough to the other woman, although there was a steel edge to his voice.

  ‘Hardly,’ she scorned such a question. ‘David is just collecting my wrap. The mink you bought me, actually, darling,’ she drawled.

  ‘Really?’ His tone cooled even more.

  Callie was beginning to pity Danielle now, beautiful as the other woman was. She was pushing Logan to the limit of his politeness, and considering the role the other woman had once had in his life she would have thought she would have known that. But perhaps Danielle was past caring? It certainly seemed that way!

  ‘Yes,’ Danielle continued, ‘you always did have wonderful taste.’

  ‘Most of the time,’ he muttered grimly.

  Blue eyes flashed. ‘And what does Callie do?’ She made the question sound like an insult. ‘Is she your latest—model?’

  A pulse worked angrily at Logan’s jaw, although he remained otherwise calm. ‘Callie is a secretary,’ he revealed tightly.

  ‘Really?’ Arched eyebrows rose. ‘That makes a change. Although I do remember Jenny was leaving you. Strange, I never thought you the type of man to chase his secretary around the office all day.’

  ‘Callie isn’t my secretary, Danielle,’ he said tautly.

  ‘What a shame—for you. Have you bought her a fur yet?’ she added spitefully.

  ‘Danielle—’

  ‘And the diamonds. Don’t forget the diamonds. You have the most wonderful taste in jewellery too, Logan.’

  ‘Danielle—’

  ‘Am I talking too much, darling?’ Her voice was brittle. ‘I thought it was the man who wasn’t supposed to kiss and tell?’

  Logan was rigid with anger. ‘And I believed it was a two-way thing,’ he rasped.

  ‘I just thought your little friend, your young friend—God, you are young, aren’t you?’ Danielle frowned down at Callie. ‘Oh well,’ she shrugged, ‘I suppose you know what you’re doing.’ Her gaze returned to Logan. ‘I just thought Callie should know the routine with you, the way you like the pursuit, to rush a girl off her feet—and into your bed, then drop her when the next beauty takes your fancy. That is your way, isn’t it, Logan?’ she scorned.

  ‘I think you’ve said enough—’