Page 11 of Switching Places

She caught her bottom lip with her teeth to keep a telltale giggle from escaping. Slowly she reached out and spread the lotion, soothing it over the sculpted muscles, following the slight indentation of his spine. Her fingertips tingled with his heat as she smoothed and kneaded the taut skin.

Up and down, side to side, mesmerized by the shimmering waves of sensation that rushed from her hand to her heart and to every cell in her body. Thinking about what Lily had said about ringing chimes, Emma knew Logan Beckett could ring an entire carillon, probably without even trying.

“Lily” he said, his voice hard to hear over the surf.

“What?”

Every inch of his back was slathered in white sun screen, but still she couldn’t stop touching him. Sleek and toned and hard. She wondered how he stayed so fit if he worked with computers. Didn’t programmers spend hours hunched over a keyboard? His skin should have been pasty white instead of deeply tanned. His eyes should squint instead of looking so open and expressive.

“Did something happen while I was gone?” he asked.

“Like what?”

Reluctantly, she dropped her hand and smoothed the excess lotion onto the tops of her thighs.

Logan turned to face her.

“I don’t know. Did you have a falling out with a guy? Pass a milestone birthday? Go bankrupt? You tell me.”

He suspected. How long before he realized she wasn’t Lily? Dare she admit it? Opening her mouth to do just that, Emma snapped it shut, concentrating on rubbing in the sun screen.

Just for today, would it hurt to pretend? If he discovered her deception, he’d probably be so disgusted he’d storm off and never speak to her again. Could it hurt just for one day?

Raising her lashes until she could look at him, she shook her head.

“Nothing happened. My birthday is in October.”

“Something’s up. If I weren’t so blasted tired, I’d probably be able to figure it out. You’re not acting like you normally do. If it’s something to do with us, I think you’d better spit it out.”

“There’s nothing.”

He looked at her and shook his head.

“First, you were not in a cranky mood when I woke you up hours earlier than you like to get up. Next, I never saw a plainer robe than the one you wore this morning. Where was that see-through thing you shocked me with that time I came over unexpectedly? Next thing I know, you’re playing Little Miss Domestic and fixing me breakfast, which was delicious, by the way. Now the virtuous swimsuit, not the crocheted one you like to wear. That all adds up to something fishy, in my book.”

He hadn’t moved, but Emma felt cornered. She inched back, frantically scrambling around for something to say to disarm his suspicions. Maybe she should just tell him who she was and why she was pretending to be her sister. Licking her dry lips, she stalled, hoping something clever would pop into her mind. She didn’t want to admit it yet. She enjoyed having the man interested in her, thinking she was Lily. It was novel and exciting and she wanted to share this time and space with Logan Beckett.

“You know how I feel about honesty. There’s nothing more important. I’d rather know right up front if something’s going on,” he said. “Maybe I can help.”

“Have we had this conversation before?” she asked.

Honesty?She didn’t know precisely how he felt, but she had a good idea after that remark. All the more reason to delay confessing her masquerade, or avoid confessing at all. She’d see if she could pull it off today, then avoid him like the plague. If luck was on her side, she could fool him for the few hours they spent on the beach. She’d come up with an excuse to skip dinner.

“About honesty? You know we have. I’ve made no secret about what I think about lying and deceiving people. A hang-up from Crystal.”

Emma considered her options. She could hide in the house until Lily returned. Or take the flashy car from the garage and drive until she ran out of gas. Or return home tomorrow after the mortifying exposure of her deception.

Or continue the bluff.

Logan rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “I’m so tired I can hardly think.”

“You should sleep,” she said gently, relieved by the change of subject.

“Don’t want to, I can get back on California time better if I stay up today and sleep tonight.”

“From the looks of you, if you don’t take at least a nap today, you’ll fall asleep in the middle of dinner,” she said, exasperated.

He shook his head. “You’re right, I won’t last that long.”

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