Because You're Mine (Capital Theatre #2)(90)

“I know what happened,” Madeline said calmly. “And I would appreciate it if in the future you would refrain from throwing yourself at my husband. It's a nuisance he doesn't deserve…and neither do I.”

Justine straightened her dress and pulled up her sleeves. “Tell her whatever you like,” she said to Logan, her voice turning shrill. “I'm sure you'll paint yourself as the innocent victim—she may even be naive enough to believe you.” Angrily she swept from the room, the door slamming in her wake.

Logan stared at his wife, feeling as awkward as he had in his boyhood years, when he had been caught in a bit of mischief. “Maddy, I didn't invite her—”

“I know,” she said matter-of-factly. “You would never try to seduce your wife's sister, even if you were attracted to her.”

“I'm not,” Logan muttered, raking his hands through his hair until it stood up wildly.

“Here…don't do that.” Madeline approached him and reached up to smooth the dark locks with her gloved hand. Her gentle touch soothed his aggravated temper. “Justine wouldn't have gone through with it, in any event. She just wanted some attention.”

“She nearly got more than she bargained for. I was ready to kill her.”

“I'm sorry you were put in such a situation.”

He caught at her stroking hand and held it, staring into her small face. “You have every reason to be suspicious, Maddy.”

“I'm not,” she said softly, making him shake his head in frustration.

“If our positions had been reversed, I would have believed the worst of you.”

A faint, wry smile came to her lips. “I've no doubt you would have.”

Her words seemed to inflame him. “Then how the hell can you stand there and claim you trust me, when you know I wouldn't have done as much for you?”

“Why shouldn't I trust you?” she asked calmly. “You've been nothing but honorable and generous to me.”

“Honorable?” Logan repeated, staring at her as if she had lost her wits. “I took your virginity, got you with child out of wedlock—”

“When I first started work at the Capital, you made every effort to avoid me, despite the way I threw myself at you. You made love to me only when it was clear that I was more than willing, and when I became pregnant, you married me in spite of your resentment. I deceived you, and in return you've been honest and fair—”

“That's enough.” His face was taut with annoyance.“I've been a bastard to you, and I don't intend to stop any time soon, so I'd advise you to dispense with the flattery and the doe-eyed glances, because they're not going to work. Do you understand?” He didn't realize he had seized her until he felt the tender skin of her upper arms beneath his hands, the tantalizing strip of bareness between the short sleeves of her grown and the top edge of her gloves.

“I understand,” Madeline said. Her soft mouth was close to his, and Logan longed violently to kiss the hint of a smile from her lips and plunge his hands into the velvet sheath of her bodice. All he wanted from her was physical pleasure. Not her trust. Not affection.

He reached over the back of her dress, found the outline of her bu**ocks, and pulled her h*ps hard against his. “I want you,” he muttered, staring into the valley of her cle**age, nuzzling his mouth and nose into the fragrant hollow at the base of her throat. “Come upstairs with me.”

“Now?” she asked, her breath catching as he urged his aroused loins against hers.

“Now.”

“But our guests…”

“Let them take care of themselves.”

Madeline laughed shakily. “Later,” she said. “They'll notice we're gone, and they'll talk—”

“I want them to talk.” Every rational thought had left Logan's head. He no longer cared about Andrew's problems, his guests' well-being, or social appearances. “I want them to know that I'm taking my pleasure of you upstairs while they're all down here…that you're mine.” Hungrily he crushed her mouth beneath his, drinking in her taste, driven wild by the scent and feel of her. His fingers tangled in her carefully arranged coiffure, beginning to pull the pins from the golden-brown curls, and Madeline pulled back with a gasp.

“All right,” she said unsteadily, her face pink and glowing. “I'll be more than happy to…accommodate you…but the guests will stop us before we ever reach the stairs.”

Logan smiled and stole a short, hard kiss from her. “I pity anyone who gets in my way,” he said, and pulled her toward the door.

Fourteen

As the next month progressed, Madeline's condition became more obvious, making it necessary for her to limit her outings. When she went shopping or drove or walked through the park, she was always escorted by at least two servants, to whom Logan had given specific instructions. She was not to overtire herself, he had said, or venture into less than safe areas, and she was to eat regularly.

“I can't stand being treated like a child,” Madeline told Logan one morning as she sat at her dressing table. She couldn't help resenting her loss of freedom. Having once experienced what it was like to do as she pleased and go anywhere she liked, it was difficult to lead the sheltered life of the usual woman in her position. “No matter what I do, there's always someone trying to help me or take care of me…or feed me something.”