“Logan, I love you, I love you.”
Chapter 11
Chandler opened her eyes and the full force of the sun struck her face as it streamed through the open windows. Her gaze settled on the figure next to her. Amidst a tangle of luxurious white sheets she followed the line of a muscular calf and thigh, dusted with dark hair, up to a broad chest which rose and fell with each breath, to the slope of an arrogant jaw, hard cheekbones, and fierce black brows. One arm was anchored firmly across her waist, holding her close. She watched him for a few moments, enjoying the sensual lines of his face, the masculine power he radiated even in sleep, the relaxed pose of his lips. The thought of the pleasure those lips bestowed made a faint blush rise to her cheeks, even as her breath quickened at the enticing thought.
After many hours spent learning every intimate secret about each other, they'd finally fallen into an exhausted sleep. She had thought it would be impossible for her body to crave anymore, but just the thought of his mouth on her sensitive flesh had the power to make her stir once again.
Maybe he'd created a monster.
“Keep looking at me like that, lady, and you’re going to get yourself into a hell of a lot of trouble.”
Startled, her gaze flew back to his face. An amused glint sparked in gun-metal eyes, and his mouth curved in a hint of a smile. Her blush deepened. “I thought you were asleep.”
He rolled over and reached up to push away the heavy waves of hair from her face. “How could I sleep when I felt your hungry gaze on my poor, defenseless body?”
She closed her eyes in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I know it’s crazy, when we spent practically all morning, well, together. I thought it would be impossible to keep wanting you and I’m sure there’s only a certain number of times a man can, well, can—oh!”
His mouth covered hers and stopped the flow of words. His tongue dove in and out of her mouth as he leaned over and pressed his body into hers. The bold evidence of his desire pulsed against her thigh. When he finally pulled away, she gasped for breath.
Fierce satisfaction rippled through him. He’d never met a woman who so welcomed his touch on her body; demanded and reveled in the pleasure of lovemaking to such an extent. He’d felt as if he never had a woman give all of herself to him before.
Throughout hours of intense pleasure, she cried out her love to him. The words were like sweet music, ripping at his own control.
Chandler Santell was finally his.
“Don’t look so surprised,” he said teasingly. “I made plans to be strong and give you time to recover. If I’d known you were having the same thoughts I would have woken you up hours ago.”
Chandler laughed and ran her fingers through his dark hair. “You’ve turned me into a nympho. I was supposed to teach a yoga class this morning. Linda will probably be wondering where I am.”
He trailed tiny kisses down her neck. “Hmmm, I have hours of paperwork I’m supposed to catch up on today. But I have a feeling it’ll have to wait until Monday.”
“That’s two days away. Surely, you’ll be able to get into the office by tomorrow.”
He chuckled. “A day and a half. We kept ourselves occupied all morning. It’s now officially afternoon.” Her breath caught as he bit her lobe gently, and his tongue explored the delicate shell of her ear. “I have plans for us the entire weekend. Work is not involved.”
“What? A business tycoon who refuses to work on the weekend?” She laughed as his teeth punished her. “What could possibly be more important than the Weatherall contract?”
“Our contract. We haven’t had our three month review yet.” He blew in her ear. Her body shot up in an unconscious, erotic reaction which he watched with interest. “I’m now ready to give you my full attention.”
His mouth closed over one breast and drew the tip between his lips. She gasped. “We have a lot of financial figures to analyze,” he said. Her nails scraped down his muscled back. “We should go over each case one by one in order to track the full benefit of the program.” He eased her legs apart, his fingers playing gently, bringing forth the warm liquid response.
Chandler fought for breath. “How much energy are you willing to devote to this review, Mr. Grant?”
His fingers drove inside of her, wringing his name from her lips. He settled over her and drew her body close to his.
Logan smiled. “I assure you, Ms. Santell, I will give you every inch of my attention.”
And he did.
“We should eat.”
“Hmmm?”
She lay against him, her long hair fanned out around his stomach and thighs. He was propped up against the headboard. His fingers rippled through the honey colored strands and arranged each wave at a certain angle.
The sun had sunk low on the horizon and threw shadows against the wall of the bedroom. A cool breeze drifted through the open windows. The cream colored curtains billowed outward, then smacked gently back against the panes of glass. The phone rung on a constant basis, and as the machine automatically picked up, a variety of voices filled the tape, demanding a call back. He'd turned his Blackberry to vibrate. The phone shook with anger as it buzzed insistently on his cherry wood dresser. They both ignored it.
Chandler sighed with contentment. “You know, food. Energy. We haven’t eaten all day and I’m starving.”
“I knew you’d be a demanding woman.”
She laughed and stretched luxuriously. “If you want me to keep up with you, I need to be fed. You have more muscle, and therefore, more energy than me. It’s not fair.”
“My aim is to keep you weak and defenseless, chained up in my bedroom for the purpose of pleasuring me.”
She punched him in the arm. “I have to break you of these terrible Medieval ideas. The first chore to help you confront your narrow-mindedness is to cook me dinner.”
One black brow shot up. “Cook?”
“Yes, you know, to make. Prepare food. Cook.” She twisted around to study him with suspicion. “You do know how to cook, don’t you?”
“I made hamburgers on the grill once.”
Chandler closed her eyes and groaned. “Wonderful. No wonder you have so many employees working for you. You can go to a different house each night without anyone becoming suspicious.” She rose from the bed, glanced around the room, and plucked a white shirt draped across a tapestry covered chair. He watched her with a wolfish grin. She tossed him a threatening glare and buttoned the shirt all the way to the neck. The hem fell almost to her knees. She rolled up the cuffs, pushed back her hair, and walked out of the bedroom.
“Where are you going?” he called out, admiring the way her derriere swung enchantingly when she walked.
“To see what you have in the house to make dinner.”
Smiling, she found her way into the kitchen. Chandler knew immediately Logan barely used the room. New copper pots dangled above an old world Spanish custom cabinetry island. Smooth earth-toned marbled counter-tops graced the room. The elegant off-white ceramic tile floor shone with a high gleam, and all the stainless steel appliances looked to be the latest gourmet’s delight.