Page 73 of Switching Places

The words almost caught in her throat. What she would truly like to do is sit and stare at the man or throw herself into his arms and kiss him until tomorrow.

Logan wore cutoffs that rode low on his hips. His bronzed chest looked a mile wide, the muscles in his arms drew her gaze, tantalized her fingers. His hair was tousled and there was a shadow of a beard. She thought he looked wonderful.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his gaze trailing down her bare legs, back up to her face.

“Sometimes people do things that turn out differently than they expected.”

“I’ve heard the explanation.”

“So hear it again. I was all alone in my sister’s house, indulging in the harmless fantasy of pretending to be her. Wearing her flashy clothes, driving that wild car, gazing out over the edge of the world. It was fun and totally new to me. I thought she had such a glamorous life. And it’s certainly different from mine.”

“So you continued the charade—”

“I’m telling this,” Emma interrupted. “Besides, I’m leaving tomorrow morning. If you don’t want to see me again, you can rest easy after that.”

Logan paused, just a hitch really, as he reached for a cup. Continuing the motion, he took one from a cupboard and filled it with hot coffee.

“So?” he said. “You probably can’t wait to get home.”

Emma was a bit disappointed at the reaction. She’d hoped for more.

“Maybe. At least David will be glad to see me,” she muttered.

Logan spun around.

“Who’s David?”

She shrugged and tried to act nonchalant, tilting up her chin defiantly.

“He’s the man who asked me to marry him before I came to California.”

Not every man thought she was a pariah.

“So you not only fooled all of us, you cheated on your fiancé.”

“No.”

Emma almost screamed in frustration. She had hoped to spark some jealousy in the man, not have him jump to conclusions that she was like Crystal.

“No. He asked me, I told him that I couldn’t possibly marry him.”

“Because you thought you found a better prospect?” Logan said sardonically, shoving the cup of coffee across the counter toward Emma, as if he couldn’t bear to hand her the cup directly.

Emma reached for it and managed one sip. Placing it carefully back on the counter, she hoped he didn’t notice how nervous she was. This wasn’t going at all as she had wanted.

“I think you’re being unreasonable.”

He advanced on her. “I’m unreasonable?”

Stopping so close he almost touched her, he drew a breath to continue. His eyes peered deep into hers, his entire body seemed on the alert.

“I don’t believe this,” he said softly. “You’re trying to put some of the blame on me.”

He stepped forward and Emma backed away from the glint of anger that appeared in his eyes.

When she reached the wall, she pressed into it as if to push herself through. He placed a hand on either side of her, fencing her in. There was no place to turn, to run. She could only stand still and face the music.

“Well, it’s true. You believed what you wanted to believe. You even questioned me a couple of times. But instead of pushing the issue, you reveled in what there was between us. The glamorous Lily Rambeau consorting with you. You’re so hung up on surface things you never looked below it. Get off your high horse and look beneath. I think you want a way out of commitment. It’s much safer that way, isn’t it, Logan? Don’t forgive me, cut the tie that binds and move on with life.”

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