Sighing, she opened the sub-zero refrigerator and made a mental list. Hamburger meat and a piece of chicken. One head of iceberg lettuce. Various containers half filled with concoctions she barely recognized. Bread, cheese, milk, bacon, and two eggs. She checked the rest of the compartments in horror.
A pair of strong arms circled her waist from behind. “Find anything interesting?” He splayed his palms wide over her belly.
“You have no vegetables.”
“You say that like I’ve committed a crime.”
She turned to face him with concern. “Logan, from the looks of this refrigerator, I’d say you eat a lot of take-out or strictly red meat.”
“So?”
She shook her head and worried her lip between her teeth. His eyes watched the action with interest. “Vegetables are the key to a healthy diet. They supply you with all the nutrition needed on a daily basis. If you want to keep up this hectic pace, your body needs them desperately.”
“I know what else it needs desperately,” he growled against her ear.
“Logan, I’m serious. Don’t you have someone to cook for you?”
He shrugged. “Nah. I use a cleaning service for the house, but I don’t like the idea of a stranger in my kitchen. I prefer my solitude.”
“There are professional chefs who could prepare something healthy for you.”
“I work late into the night, sweetheart. I’m lucky if I can grab a home cooked meal once a month.” He studied her face for a few moments. “Are you really worried about me?”
“Yes. You have to start changing your habits. Tonight.”
He watched her stalk up the stairs and back into the bedroom. Hiding a smile, he felt a rush of pleasure from her obvious concern with his diet. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman cared about what he ate or how hard he worked. Her worry caused a heady feeling he was actually starting to enjoy. He followed her. “What are you doing?”
She picked through the pile of clothes on the carpet. “I’m getting dressed to go to the store. I want to pick up a supply of vegetables so we can cook tonight. Do you have a Wok?”
“Hmmm, somewhere in the cabinets, I’ve never used it. You’re not going anywhere.”
“What?”
He watched in amusement as she tumbled back on the bed, one leg stuck in her jeans. “I’ll go to the store, just give me a list. You don’t have your car back, remember?”
She stopped struggling into the tight material. “I forgot. Are you sure you can handle it?”
“Just give me a description of what each vegetable looks like and I’ll be fine.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Yes, I’m kidding.” He walked to the edge of the bed and eased her one leg out of the jeans. Kneeling down, he slid his palms up over her thighs and parted them gently. Her breath caught in her throat, and incredibly, her body quickened. His lips curved into a sensual smile as he watched her reaction to his touch.
“Oh no, not again.”
A low rumble of laughter rose from his chest. He pushed her down on the bed, his fingers deftly unbuttoning the shirt, displaying her naked body to his hungry gaze. He kissed the tops of her thighs, nipping at the tender flesh, working his way inward. “Oh, yes, Chandler again. I’ll never tire of loving you.”
His mouth found the inner core of her desire, and her sweet wild cries echoed through the air, as Logan taught her a new way to fly.
Chandler hummed the words with Frank Sinatra as she uncorked the bottle of Pinot Grigio she discovered in the wine rack. Pouring the golden liquid into two glasses, she sipped from hers as she cut up the chicken into neat squares and waited for Logan to return. After he left, she’d taken a hot shower, letting the stinging jets of water soothe each muscle and smiling when she thought over their last encounter. The way he kissed her. Touched her. Shown her ecstasy she’d never known existed.
And here she was, in a man’s house, dressed in his robe, cooking him dinner, doing nothing but making mad, passionate love for the entire day, and never feeling more happy or alive than she had in her life.
She was totally in love with Logan Grant.
Now he knew it.
She squeezed a little lemon on each piece of chicken and wondered how he really felt about her confession. He’d wrung the words from her lips countless times, and each time he kissed her fiercely, as if she’d said the words he wished to hear. But he never responded with his own feelings. Never told her what he wanted from the relationship. Never said the words back.
Because he wasn’t in love with her.
Using her forearm to push her hair away from her face, she attacked the lone head of lettuce and shredded each piece with total concentration. She didn’t want to think of any negative thoughts this weekend, but it was something she had to face. Logan may never allow himself to fall in love with a woman, choosing instead to give everything to his business. How long could she go on, waiting to see if his feelings would evolve into love? How long could she wait on the sidelines, hoping one day he’d change?
Then there was the Yoga and Arts Center. The six month trial period would be up soon, and she’d be faced with a decision. The outcome of their contract decided the whole future of her business. If Logan made a practical decision to terminate the arrangement, would she be able to accept it? Could she be involved with a man who never let his emotional entanglements interfere with business? And if he did decide to sign the long term contract, would she always wonder if it was pity and responsibility toward her that made him accept the offer?
The door slammed and interrupted her thoughts. Logan entered the kitchen. Rivulets of water streamed down his face and hair, sopping into the brown paper bag he carried under one arm. “It’s raining?” she asked in surprise.
“Just started on the way back.” He threw his jacket over the chair and studied her. He seemed to enjoy the picture she made wrapped up in his floor length terry robe. “You took a shower.”
“Yes, I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“The only thing I mind is that you didn’t wait for me.” He raked his wet hair back with his fingers and shook off the excess water. His t-shirt clung to him, damp from the moisture, and outlined his broad chest.
Chandler stared at him for a few moments, loving the way his eyes crinkled slightly when he smiled, the full sensual line of his mouth, the lean muscled grace when he moved. At that moment she didn’t care about the problems between them. She only knew being with him fulfilled her in a way she’d never experienced before, and she would take each moment he gave her as a precious gift, greedily storing up as many memories as she could.
Emotion struck her full force. She closed the distance between them and hurled herself into his arms. She sunk all ten fingers into the midnight depth of his hair and urged his mouth down on hers. Her tongue thrust between his lips savoring his unique taste. They kissed each other hungrily, Logan’s hands gliding down her back, pulling her hips into his as their tongues battled in an intimate game, until, breathless, she pulled away.
He groaned. “If that’s the way I’m greeted every time I walk in the door, I’ll be sure to do it often.”
Chandler laughed. “I’m happy.” She interlaced her fingers with his and brought it up between them admiring the size and strength of his hand in hers.
He smiled down at her and opened her palm to place a tender kiss. “I’m just as happy.” His gaze wandered over her face as if searching for something. She caught a familiar, wicked gleam in charcoal eyes that made her suddenly wary.