Because You're Mine (Capital Theatre #2)(82)

His expression didn't change. “No. I won't bother you tonight.”

Logan started to turn away, but she touched his wrist lightly, and he went very still. Her clear amber eyes looked into his. “I wouldn't mind,” she said. It was the closest she could bring herself to inviting him.

An awkward, charged silence came between them. Logan wrestled with temptation, knowing very well what she was offering. It was something he wanted badly indeed. He wanted to laugh in frustration at the way Madeline doggedly refused to protect herself. It was her peculiar strength, that she could take any setdown and still not close herself away. He almost envied her—it was a strength he didn't possess.

He leaned over and touched his lips to her forehead, craving her silken skin, her supple body beneath his mouth and hands…but he pulled away after the chaste kiss. “Good night,” he said gruffly.

Madeline nodded, forcing an unconcerned smile to her face, and went alone to her room. She would give him all the time he needed. She would be patient with him, just as she would with a wild creature that feared her touch…a creature that might be coaxed to eat from her hand or just as likely bite it off.

Changing into a thin long-sleeved gown, she snuggled beneath the heavy silk covers. Gradually the warmth of her body collected in the cocoon of bedclothes. Her bones seemed to ache, especially the lower region of her spine, and she changed position many times until she found a comfortable place on her side.

Sleep was elusive. Madeline listened in vain for the sound of Logan entering his room a few doors away. Gradually she drifted in and out of a fragmented slumber that gave her no peace. Waking from a vivid dream, she discovered that her legs were tight and knotted, and she flexed her calves to ease them. Immediately she was seized with a knifelike pain in her right leg, the muscle cramping and burning. She wasn't aware of making a sound, but she must have, for Logan's voice suddenly broke through the darkness, and she felt his weight as he climbed onto the mattress to reach her.

“Maddy,” he said urgently, his hands sliding over her as she gathered herself in a ball of pain. “Maddy, what the hell is wrong? Tell me—”

“My leg,” she gasped. It hurt. It paralyzed her so that no movement was possible. “Don't touch me—”

“Let me.” Logan pushed her hands away and felt for her leg. “Try to relax.”

“I can't.” But she leaned back against him and jerked as his hand closed around her calve. He found the cramped muscle and kneaded gently until the agony began to ebb. Madeline let out a sigh of relief, resting against Logan's chest as he continued to work out the soreness. When he moved to her other leg, she managed a soft murmur—“That one's all right”—but he hushed her and massaged it as well.

“What happened?” he asked, pushing her nightgown to the tops of her thighs.

“I woke with leg cramps,” Madeline replied, feeling drugged. Logan seemed to know exactly how to touch her, how deeply to ply her muscles without hurting them. “Julia said to expect it sometimes—it's common for women in my condition.”

“I never knew that,” he said, sounding disgruntled. “How often does it happen?”

“I don't know. This was the first time.” Modestly she tugged at the hem of her nightgown where it had ridden too high. “Thank you. I'm sorry to have bothered you.” His hands slipped away from her, and Madeline yawned and curled on her side.

There were sounds of him undressing in the darkness, the rustle of clothes dropping to the floor. Madeline opened her eyes and stared at his shadowy figure. “Aren't you going to leave?” she asked hesitantly.

“No, madam.” He crawled into the space beside her. “It seems that you're determined to have me in your bed tonight.”

“If you're implying that I was trying to trick you—”

“It's clear that my charms are too much for you to resist. I understand.” His arm slid around her, and his smiling mouth covered hers.

Realizing that he was teasing her, Madeline pushed at his chest. “You conceited man—” she exclaimed with a laugh, as his hand closed around the back of her head.

“Kiss me.” He held her steady as his mouth moved over hers in gentle exploration, his breath burning her cheek. His playful mood vanished, replaced by an intense concentration, a tenderness, that she had never thought he would show her again. He touched her body with his fingertips, brushing across the downy hairs on her spine, the peaks of her br**sts, the creases behind her knees. Madeline lay still beneath him, floating on a current of pleasure, trembling in anticipation as his mouth drifted across her chest.

He lingered on her ni**les for long minutes, sucking and stroking with his tongue, bringing them to acutely hard points. Restlessly she arched upward, wanting his body over her, inside her, wanting him to crush her with his weight…but he held back, drawing the smooth pads of his fingers over her body in long trails of fire.

All shame deserted her, and she found herself gasping and pleading, opening her legs for him, until finally his fingers parted her aching flesh, sliding inside with teasing flicks.

Madeline reached down to grasp the stiff, hot length of him, her touch inexperienced but ardent. Logan drew in a sharp breath and held her tightly, one large hand sliding over hers. His voice was velvety-rough as he murmured in her ear. “Maddy, yes…sweet…this way…” Growling with pleasure, he taught her what he liked, pressing mingled words and kisses across her skin.