dinner.
Not , she
thought, a dirty cowboy kneeling in front of her in a total
man-cave of an office, no ring in site, and not a single petal near him. And
especially because of pressing circumstances. Shouldn’t you only
propose to someone when you were in love? she thought desperately,
staring into his eyes.
There was start determination there. She knew
that even if she said no, he wouldn’t give her that option. It was
right there in his eyes, clear as day for her to read. But what she
didn’t understand was...everything.
“Yes I do. I know that I want to make you my
wife, right now.”
“Right now, yes. But later... Logan, I
can’t...”
He got to his feet, cupping her face with his
rough hand. “Claire, I’m not giving you that choice.”
Her brows lowered. “I’m the one that got asked,
shouldn’t I get a say?”
Logan’s head shook. “Nope. Not with
me.”
“I’m not going to say ye --”
His lips brushed against hers, silencing her.
Then, as fire danced along her lips like feathers, he whispered,
“You will. Just wait.”
“My father...”
“Technically,” he said against her skin,
wrapping his arms around her and drawing her to his body, “you
don’t have a father. You’re supposed to be dead. If he happens to
find out about this later on, however, then...”
“Logan!” she gasped, partly because she was
shocked at what he was doing to her and what he was
saying.
“Yes?”
“You can’t...you can’t be serious. This is
ridiculous,” she sputtered, pushing away from him.
Logan only crushed her against him.
“I am serious. And guess what?” he said, a grin in his
voice. His lips moved against her neck, hot breath fluttering over
her skin.
“What?” she said airily, heart pounding so much
that she was almost light headed -- or was that because of Logan?
She had a feeling it was. With her heart trying to climb up her
throat, her hands were threading into his hair and urging him
closer, even as every rational thought she had told her to back
away from him.
“Since you’re going to be my wife
--”
She shook her head, even as her eyes closed
with mute pleasure.
“-- we are sleeping in the same bed,” he growed
roughly against her neck, nipping.
Claire should have protested. Really, she
should have, but she couldn’t bring herself to. Right now, she
would do anything to have Logan touch her like he was right now. If
he stopped, she would probably cry. Her head fell back for him, and
he kissed up her neck and to her jaw, one of his hands grabbing the
back of her neck and making her look at him.
The heat in his eyes was almost enough to undo
her.
“No fight, no argument,” he murmured, only
pulling back for a second before grabbing her roughly around the
hips and lifting. Instinctively, her arms wrapped around his neck
just as her legs did.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” she said quickly,
tightening her arms around his neck despite her words.
With her wrapped around him, he stood moved to
the door. She squeaked. “Logan! Put me down!”
“I have to carry you across the threshold,” he
teased, stepping through the office door after opening it with one
hand.
But even when he crossed the doorway, he didn’t
let go. Instead, he carried her across the hall and to his room,
where the door was closed. He barely paused while holding her and
opening the door, and the second they were inside, she found
herself on the bed, and on her back.
He loomed over her, covering her. His hands
slid up her shirt, to her tender stomach and to her waist, all the
way up to the underside of her breasts. “Say yes,” he whispered,
pressing a kiss to her jaw, her cheek. The corner of her
mouth.
Her head shook back and forth, long hair
spilling over the pillows that were under her. Fingers speared into
his hair, tugging. “We can’t...”
“Can’t, what?” he murmured, caressing her
stomach, her hips, the underside of her breasts-- anywhere he could
touch without losing
Not , she
thought, a dirty cowboy kneeling in front of her in a total
man-cave of an office, no ring in site, and not a single petal near him. And
especially because of pressing circumstances. Shouldn’t you only
propose to someone when you were in love? she thought desperately,
staring into his eyes.
There was start determination there. She knew
that even if she said no, he wouldn’t give her that option. It was
right there in his eyes, clear as day for her to read. But what she
didn’t understand was...everything.
“Yes I do. I know that I want to make you my
wife, right now.”
“Right now, yes. But later... Logan, I
can’t...”
He got to his feet, cupping her face with his
rough hand. “Claire, I’m not giving you that choice.”
Her brows lowered. “I’m the one that got asked,
shouldn’t I get a say?”
Logan’s head shook. “Nope. Not with
me.”
“I’m not going to say ye --”
His lips brushed against hers, silencing her.
Then, as fire danced along her lips like feathers, he whispered,
“You will. Just wait.”
“My father...”
“Technically,” he said against her skin,
wrapping his arms around her and drawing her to his body, “you
don’t have a father. You’re supposed to be dead. If he happens to
find out about this later on, however, then...”
“Logan!” she gasped, partly because she was
shocked at what he was doing to her and what he was
saying.
“Yes?”
“You can’t...you can’t be serious. This is
ridiculous,” she sputtered, pushing away from him.
Logan only crushed her against him.
“I am serious. And guess what?” he said, a grin in his
voice. His lips moved against her neck, hot breath fluttering over
her skin.
“What?” she said airily, heart pounding so much
that she was almost light headed -- or was that because of Logan?
She had a feeling it was. With her heart trying to climb up her
throat, her hands were threading into his hair and urging him
closer, even as every rational thought she had told her to back
away from him.
“Since you’re going to be my wife
--”
She shook her head, even as her eyes closed
with mute pleasure.
“-- we are sleeping in the same bed,” he growed
roughly against her neck, nipping.
Claire should have protested. Really, she
should have, but she couldn’t bring herself to. Right now, she
would do anything to have Logan touch her like he was right now. If
he stopped, she would probably cry. Her head fell back for him, and
he kissed up her neck and to her jaw, one of his hands grabbing the
back of her neck and making her look at him.
The heat in his eyes was almost enough to undo
her.
“No fight, no argument,” he murmured, only
pulling back for a second before grabbing her roughly around the
hips and lifting. Instinctively, her arms wrapped around his neck
just as her legs did.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” she said quickly,
tightening her arms around his neck despite her words.
With her wrapped around him, he stood moved to
the door. She squeaked. “Logan! Put me down!”
“I have to carry you across the threshold,” he
teased, stepping through the office door after opening it with one
hand.
But even when he crossed the doorway, he didn’t
let go. Instead, he carried her across the hall and to his room,
where the door was closed. He barely paused while holding her and
opening the door, and the second they were inside, she found
herself on the bed, and on her back.
He loomed over her, covering her. His hands
slid up her shirt, to her tender stomach and to her waist, all the
way up to the underside of her breasts. “Say yes,” he whispered,
pressing a kiss to her jaw, her cheek. The corner of her
mouth.
Her head shook back and forth, long hair
spilling over the pillows that were under her. Fingers speared into
his hair, tugging. “We can’t...”
“Can’t, what?” he murmured, caressing her
stomach, her hips, the underside of her breasts-- anywhere he could
touch without losing
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