Page 60 of Switching Places

“No, you think you know me, but actually—”

“Actually it doesn’t matter. Just say yes.”

“I need to tell you something first,” Emma said, her heart beating so heavily she could scarcely breathe.

Once he heard her confession, would he dump her out of the car? Yell at her for her lies?

He smiled and squeezed her hand slightly.

“You think you are falling in love with me.”

Her eyes widened in astonishment. Had she been that obvious?

Logan looked at her, then back to the road. “Right?”

“Am I that obvious?”

“No, but maybe I’m falling in love with you. Maybe we can see and feel that emotion in each other.”

She sat back, bewildered. Was he really falling in love with her?

Or was it some line sophisticated men used to lure unsuspecting, gullible women into their lair? If he truly loved her, wouldn’t he have said something earlier? Why now, when he was pushing to get her into bed? She wanted it to be true, but was too unversed in the entire scene to trust her instincts.

“Okay, baby, forget it. Stop in for a brief nightcap and head for your chaste little bed,” Logan said sharply.

Did she detect anger or disappointment? Emma wasn’t sure, but she was sure she felt like an idiot. She loved this man. He had practically admitted he loved her in return. And if Phil’s comments were anything to go by, it was highly unusual for Logan to be so demonstrative with women.

“Tell me about Crystal,” she said unexpectedly.

“Not tonight. What I want has nothing to do with Crystal. She’s ancient history. You’ve noticed I never asked about your husband.”

She’d never had a husband. Oh, Lily.

“Logan, I have to tell you—”

“No, you don’t have to tell me anything tonight. Have a drink and go home,” he repeated.

Emma lapsed into silence. The miles sped by as he drove west toward the beach. She grew sleepy and had a hard time staying awake. Her thoughts should have been enough to insure she never slept again, but tired from the night before, the day at the beach and the lateness of the hour, her eyes felt dry and could hardly stay open.

“A drink?” Logan asked as he turned onto their street.

“A quick one, maybe,” she said.

Tired or not, she wasn’t ready for the evening to end.

Turning on a single lamp in his living room, Logan went to the bar installed along a portion of the glass wall and poured two small brandies.

Emma wandered to the window that overlooked the ocean and gazed out at the dark expanse. Stars scattered in the sky gave a soft radiance, overwhelmed by the brightness of the moonlight. Silvery waves moved as far as she could see, almost as if they provided a path straight to heaven.

“It’s so pretty here,” she said when he offered her the brandy snifter.

“That’s why we live here, I guess.”

What would it be like to live here, always to have the ocean as a presence in her life? To hear the waves endlessly kiss the shore, to feel the clear breeze against her skin, to become used to the slightly tangy salt air? She loved it here and wished she could stay forever. Even though home beckoned, there was something special about this place.

When Logan took her untouched glass, she didn’t resist. When he leaned over and kissed her, she closed her eyes to better experience the kiss. His arms brought her up against his strength and molded her softer body against his hard one. Deepening the kiss, he gave her no time to think. She could onlyfeel the exquisite sensations that pulsed through her with his touch.

Her arms encircled his neck and she pressed herself against him. Feeling daring and brave, she threaded her fingers in his thick hair and responded to the passion that clamored to be released.

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