Page 43 of Undoing His Innocent Enemy (Hot Winter Escapes)

‘They died and I did nothing to save them,’ he added, wild grief shadowing his eyes. ‘I cannot lose you too.’

‘Logan...?’ she murmured, the last of her anger deserting her, the distress in his voice crucifying her. ‘What are you talking about?’

The pain flared in his eyes and she thought she understood. Was this about his parents? About what had happened all those years ago? A fear she had somehow triggered, because he cared for her, too. Enough to want to keep her safe.

Anguish for him tore at her chest—terrifying, but also somehow liberating. Because she felt so much less alone.

‘Logan, is this about your parents? Can you tell me what happened to them?’

He shook his head. But as he pressed his forehead to hers again, and held her tight, emotion rippled through him and she understood he was scared to let her go.

She cradled his cheeks, looked into his eyes. ‘It’s okay, Logan. I’m okay. I’m safe. I was never in any real danger, do you understand?’

He nodded, then pressed his mouth to hers, silencing the questions. The surge of need that had been building all day rushed in. He kissed her with a frantic passion—as if reassuring himself that she was whole. That she was his.

Suddenly they were tearing at each other’s clothes, desperate to reach flesh—as desire bridged the last of the gap between them.

This was simple, basic, she realised. A way to cope with the devastating emotions churning in her chest and making her heart hurt. The yearning she had worked so hard to suppress fed the frantic need. Until he lifted her naked in his arms and impaled her on his thick shaft.

She sank onto the strident erection, taking him to the hilt in one long, slow, unbearable glide. Her swollen sex stretched to receive him as she had done so many times before. But this time, as he began to move in frantic bursts, her back thumping against the wall, her heart soared into her throat.

The pleasure slammed into her, and her sobs were matched by his harsh shout of release.

Afterwards, she clung to his shoulders, and buried her face in his neck.

‘I am sorry, Cara,’ he mumbled against her hair. ‘I should not have left you alone.’

Her ragged breathing cut through the quiet air, but even the wave of afterglow couldn’t hide the gaping hole in her chest that swallowed her whole at his gruff apology.

He carried her into the house, and up to the bedroom, as if she were precious, cherished. But as he tucked her into his bed, then joined her, pulling her into his arms, the plunging pain in her stomach returned.

Had she made a terrible mistake?

How could she have fallen so hopelessly in love with this difficult, taciturn, untouchable man—enough to want to ease his pain and find out where it had come from?

Enough to want to save him? Even though he hadn’t asked to be saved.

He hadn’t even asked her to stay, and if he did, how could she accept? When it would surely mean giving up everything she’d worked for, everything she’d dreamed of, for a man... The way her mother had.

You couldn’t save someone, couldn’t change someone, who didn’t want to be saved.

But as she lay warm in his arms, feeling the thumps of his heartbeat reverberating against her back, she recognised the well of hope that bubbled up under her breastbone.

She mattered to Logan, in a way no other person had for a very long time. And that had to be as scary for him as it was for her. Maybe even more so. But surely that also had to mean something?

Now all she had to do was figure out exactly what it meant. And whether she could nurture and protect the well of hope... And turn it into something more tangible.

In the three days they had left together.

No pressure, then.

‘Who were you talking about yesterday, Logan? When you said they died and you could do nothing to save them?’

Logan’s hand stilled on Cara’s belly where he had been lazily stroking her. The warm heat from the sauna and the drugging feeling of sexual satisfaction had relaxed him and made him feel in control of his emotions for the first time since yesterday’s argument.

But as he glanced up from the lower bench, to find her watching him, her face flushed from their latest swim and the traditional warm-up afterwards, he tensed.

Why had he thought she would not recall the things he had let slip last night while he had been blindsided by the old fear?

---