An Innocent in Paradise (7 page)

Had he asked her a question? Oh, yes.

“I have,” she said, resting her head on his chest because it seemed so inviting. “But it was strictly for business purposes. I was taking a test.”

“A test?” he said, rubbing her back in a slow circle. “Which test was that?”

She could hear in the tone of his voice that he was smiling. She liked that tone, too, and gazed up at him. “Dee calls it the cocktail quiz.”

“Ah. And how did you do?”

“I passed with flying colors because I'm very smart. Do you know how smart I am?”

“You've mentioned several times that you're very smart indeed,” he said.

“But you don't know how smart I really am,” she said, pointing her finger at his face, which was slightly blurry around the edges. “If you knew, you'd run for the hills.”

“You said that before, too,” he murmured, wrapping his hand around her finger. “But you're wrong.”

“I think you're very handsome,” she said, staring at him keenly.

He chuckled. “And I think you're toasted.”

She thought about it, then nodded. “I think you're right. And I'm okay with that.”

“Glad to hear it,” he said, his arms wrapped securely around her waist. “Shall I walk you to your room now?”

She looked up at the night sky, then at him. “Aren't you going to kiss me again?”

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

“Yes, please,” she whispered. “Under the moonlight, if you don't mind.”

“Well, since you ask so politely…” He touched his lips to hers in a kiss so gentle, so sweet, so warm, Grace wanted to melt in his arms.

“Just like a dream,” she uttered, feeling as if she were floating on air. Was she melting for real? She felt as light as a feather. Then she felt nothing at all.

 

Logan caught her as she slid downward, boneless and out cold. Lifting her effortlessly into his arms, he was thankful he'd decided to take a walk out to the beach to catch a few minutes of fresh air before heading to his suite for the night. Otherwise, he wouldn't have had a chance to rescue Grace from a night spent sleeping on the sand.

As he carried her across the terrace, he hoped like hell she wouldn't wake up with too bad a hangover in the morning. He had a feeling she didn't indulge very often, so she was probably going to pay for taking the cocktail quiz.

He reached her room and used his own master-key card to open it. Stepping inside, he let the door close behind him and carried her over to her bed to lay her down. Once she was settled, he glanced around her room and saw the elaborate setup she'd arranged on her table and across the top of her dresser. It was a portable laboratory complete with a serious-looking microscope, state-of-the-art laptop and some contraption with a toggle switch and digital readout screen that measured something or other. There was a small scale next to a plastic thing that held glass cylinders suspended in a row, several of which had tubes attached that wound around and emptied into nearby beakers.

If he didn't know her better, he might've thought she'd set up a still to make whiskey.

He glanced back at Grace, who was snoring softly. She would probably freak out when she woke up in the morning and realized that her boss had been the one who'd carried her to bed.

She wore cropped pants and a thin blouse and he pondered the idea of taking her clothes off. She would sleep better wearing just her underwear, right?

He enjoyed the image of her waking up and seeing herself in panties and a bra. How quickly would she grasp that it had been Logan who'd undressed her?

Ah, well, it was a nice fantasy. One he wouldn't be carrying out tonight.

But soon. Very soon.

This time, though, he would allow her to keep her clothes on because that's the kind of guy he was. Pulling the lightweight comforter over her, he turned off the lights and left her alone to sleep off the cocktail quiz.

H
e found her late the next morning, sitting in an overstuffed rattan chair in the shady portion of the terrace. She wore dark glasses and a light pink sweater and was sipping something thick and red.

“Is that a Bloody Mary you're drinking?” he asked.

Grace looked up at him and tried to smile, but it was a bit shaky. “Dear God, no. No alcohol for me, thank you.” She stared with suspicion at the concoction, then back at Logan. “It's something Joey mixed up. Supposed to be good for me because of my…um, hay fever.”

“Hay fever.” He grinned. “Is that what they're calling it these days?

“All right, fine,” she said, pouting. “I'm a little under the weather. But it's all your fault.”

He barked out a laugh. “My fault?”

“Of course.”

“This I've got to hear.” He sat in the chair next to her. “How is your hangover my fault?”

She turned slowly in her chair and faced him. “I was investigating ways to improve my job performance last night.”

“Ah. And in order to improve your skills at carrying drinks, you got drunk, apparently deciding to carry those drinks on the
inside
. And since I'm the boss, it's my fault.”

She frowned briefly. “Exactly.”

He chuckled. “That's a new one.”

She hunched a bit lower in her chair and glared at him. “It's true.”

“Sweetheart, nobody said anything about you having to drink the same stuff your customers order.”

“But I thought it would be good to know how the different drinks taste. That way I can give advice to people who ask for recommendations.”

“That's thoughtful of you, but it doesn't excuse Dee from overserving you.”

Grace grabbed his arm. “Don't you dare yell at Dee. She's my friend.”

Logan's eyes focused on her soft hand on his arm. “I have no intention of yelling at her.”

“Oh. Good.” She pulled her hand back. “It's not her fault anyway. She didn't realize what a lightweight I am.” She looked away. “Neither did I, I guess. And the drinks were in such tiny glasses, I never thought about how much I might be drinking and…”

The vulnerable look on her face almost did him in and he decided to change the subject. “Grace, do you remember seeing me on the beach last night?”

She frowned again, avoiding his gaze as she licked her lips. “I have a vague memory of that.”

“Are you sure it isn't more than a vague memory?”

“Why?” she asked, turning to look at him. “Did I say something ridiculous? Should I apologize?”

“Of course not. You were on your best behavior. We had a nice conversation about the moonlight.”

“Oh, good,” she said with relief.

“And then you asked me to kiss you.”

She cringed. “Oh, no.” Then, taking a deep breath, she said, “Apparently I shouldn't be allowed anywhere near liquor without a keeper. I'm so sorry if I embarrassed you.”

“You're kidding, right?” He regarded her intently. “The only thing I'm sorry about is that you were too tipsy to take the next step with me.”

She flashed him a look he couldn't read because of those dark glasses blocking her eyes. But she seemed to dwell on his words, letting them sink in. He hoped so, anyway, because he intended to take that next step as soon as possible.

“What are you thinking, Grace?”

She cleared her throat. “Nothing much.”

He scooted his chair closer to hers. “Are you thinking about that kiss? About what else we could share?”

She didn't answer, but he could see a faint blush rise on her pale cheeks.

“Because I'm thinking about it,” he said softly, touching her shoulder with his fingers, then trailing a path up her neck and along her jawline. “I can't stop thinking about it. I want you in my bed, Grace, wrapped up in nothing but me. And once we're in bed together, I'll take my time with you. I want to touch and feel every inch of your body with my hands and my mouth and tongue. I want to make you feel everything I'm feeling. I want to make you hot. I want to make you scream.”

Her breath shuddered out and she shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She swallowed hard and murmured, “Oh, God.”

He leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “Say when,
Grace. Tonight? Say the word and we'll be together. Tomorrow night? I won't wait much longer. I've got to have you soon.” Then he bit her earlobe and soothed the bite with his tongue. “Yes?”

“Yes.” She let out a soft moan. “Soon.”

“Good.” He touched her cheek, then stood. His body was tight and hard and he knew he'd suffer for an hour or more because of this little seduction scene. But it had been worth it. Even with the dark glasses covering her eyes, Logan could tell she had been as affected as he and that was, after all, the point. Right?

Smiling, he turned to leave. “You have a nice day, Grace.”

 

She watched him walk away and had to resist the urge to call the hotel doctor. Her heart was stuttering so wildly from his incendiary words—not to mention that nibble on her ear—that she wasn't sure it would ever calm down again.

“Wow,” she whispered. The man was potent. Maybe too potent. Because now she had to ask herself, was she ready for someone like Logan Sutherland? She had barely dated in the past ten years and after the debacle with Walter, she'd lost some confidence in herself as a woman. Of course, Logan's flattering words over the past few days had gone a long way toward helping her get some of that confidence back.

He'd also confused her completely. A few days ago, he'd made it more than clear that he didn't trust her. Lately, though, he seemed to have changed his mind. And today… She shivered again, then winced when her head pounded in response. Why had he chosen
today
of all days, to tell her he wanted her in his bed? She had been in no mental
shape to argue him out of it. She certainly would have, she consoled herself, if she'd been able to.

But no, even she didn't believe that.

The memory of his mouth at her ear, his warm breath on her skin, made her feel nearly boneless with the want rampaging through her.

So now the question was, did she trust him enough to, well, allow him to do all those things his whispered promise had suggested?

Just thinking about giving herself up to him caused ripples of lust to waft through her stomach and roam even lower.

Oh, who was she kidding? She wanted him so much, she could barely sit still. She'd never felt this way about a man before, not even Walter. And she had trusted Walter!

“That proves you're a dunce,” she muttered. She had trusted Walter and he had betrayed her, so how could she base her feelings for any man on the amount of trust she felt for him? She couldn't, so she might as well throw caution to the wind and do what she wanted to do. And, right now, all she wanted to do was Logan Sutherland. Heck, if she couldn't have trust, she would settle for lust.

“Yes,” she murmured with a cautious smile. “Soon.”

 

“He didn't mean it,” she muttered to herself that night in the bar. She refused to be disappointed, chalking it up to her own naïveté when it came to men.

After garnishing four mai tais with pineapple chunks and maraschino cherries, Grace carried the cocktails over to one of her tables and passed them around to her customers.

She'd been on duty for four hours already and Logan hadn't shown up. After seeing his imposing presence in the bar every night for the past week, she was a little frus
trated that he wouldn't show up tonight. Especially after propositioning her that afternoon.

If he didn't appear, should she go to his room? But what if he was with someone? Oh, God. She needed to forget he'd ever mentioned anything to her. Forget he'd whispered all those provocative suggestions in her ear. Forget the smoldering lust she'd been suffering all day.

He'd obviously been teasing her.

But why? Was he trying to set her up for a fall? If she came on to him, would he have his excuse to fire her? Was that his plan? If so, it was sneaky and mean.

It wasn't as if she wanted to work in the bar forever, but she had friends here now and she still cared about doing a good job. She had at least another week or two of spore collection before she would feel right about leaving, so she needed to protect herself against the possibility of losing her job.

So it was settled. She wouldn't act on her attraction to Logan. She'd already behaved like an idiot with one man. She didn't need to do it again. Walter had been handsome, too, although nowhere near as gorgeous as Logan. And look where her attraction to him had gotten her.

At least she and Walter had had something in common, for whatever that was worth. She and Logan, on the other hand, had nothing in common. He certainly had no interest in spores—that much was clear. Wasn't it important to have shared interests? What if he asked her about herself and she mentioned her fascination with biological dispersal and meiosis in the sporangium? His eyes would glaze over and he would zone out.

Of course, Grace was used to people outside of the lab dozing off when she began waxing microbiological. She could handle the general disinterest, although, privately, she didn't understand why the whole world wasn't utterly
captivated by the subject of Allerian spores and their regenerative properties. But she
really
didn't want Logan to do the zone-out thing with her. She wanted him to look at her and see more than a scientist. She wanted him to feel the same pulse-pounding desire that had been charging through her all day.

When she found herself staring out the window near the last table she'd served, she shook herself back to reality. She really needed to concentrate on her job or she'd find herself on the next plane off the island.

Back at the bar, she collected a larger order of ten drinks and arranged them on a tray. After a few deep breaths to keep her nerves at bay, she whispered the words that always helped relax her. “Helium, argon, xenon.”

Positioning her feet on the floor and flexing her leg muscles as Clive had taught her, she lifted the tray in one smooth movement onto her shoulders. Then she blinked. “Wait, neon comes before argon. And Krypton comes before… Oh, dear.”

She steadied the tray and began to walk carefully toward her next table. She would have to take extra care with her drink trays tonight because she was obviously flustered. Otherwise, she never would've mixed up the order of noble gases in the periodic table. She forced herself to concentrate as she crossed the room, talking to herself as she walked. “Now where was I? Oh, yes, krypton, xenon, radon. Now the alkali metals. Lithium, sodium, potassium—”

“Looking good, Gracie girl,” Dee said with a wink as she passed her in the aisle between tables.

“You, too, Dee.” Grace grinned. She'd never had a friend like Dee before, someone who was smart and funny and so much fun to talk to. Grace's closest friend in Min
nesota was Phillippa, and while they had a good time at work together, Grace didn't have many friends outside of the lab. Not a friend like Dee, anyway. She hadn't known her long but already felt so close to her.

Grace didn't know what she'd do without Dee, once she went back to Minnesota. They could email, of course, but that wasn't the same. The thought depressed her enough that she had to put it out of her mind. For now, she would think positively. She was here on the island because of the spores, of course, but Dee was near the top of her list of best reasons to come back to Alleria someday soon.

Grace made it to her customers' table and back to the bar before she realized she'd forgotten to name the rest of the alkalis.

What was wrong with her? It was a good thing she'd gone back to her room to rest for a few hours that afternoon. Lord knows how much more loopy she'd be tonight without that nap. She vowed never to overindulge again, knowing what a mess it made of her memorization skills, among other things.

A low-level buzz stirred its way through her system and Grace turned around to see what was causing it.

Logan.

Glancing around, she realized nobody else in the room was taking an interest in his presence but her. Where in the world had that buzz come from? She didn't know, but her insides were tingling and the pale hairs on her arms were standing up.

He stood a few feet inside the doorway and stared at her with an intensity that nearly had her knees collapsing. As she gripped the edge of the bar, he jerked his chin toward the door. Did that mean he was leaving?

“I'll take over your tables,” Dee whispered in Grace's ear as she took hold of her drink tray. “Go.”

Her friend nudged her away from the bar and Grace stumbled toward the door where Logan stood waiting. The bar crowd became a vague shadow and the raucous laughter faded to a soft drone. All she saw was him.

Heart pounding, she met him at the door. Were his eyes always that compelling, she wondered. Or was tonight special? Was there something more in the way he looked at her? She saw the tension in his features and knew he was experiencing everything she was. The sexual pull between them was off the charts, no matter what periodic table she might use to try to define it.

But oddly, Grace had zero interest in quantifying anything that lay between them. The fact that their feelings for each other existed was enough. The look in Logan's eyes said it all. He'd come for her. He'd meant what he said. He wasn't setting her up for a fall or trying to fire her. He wanted her. And in that moment, all her earlier worries dissolved. She knew she was safe with him.

He took her hand and they strode out of the bar side by side. She gazed up at him and thought,
well, not exactly safe.
She was in over her head. She knew it. She'd never been with a man like Logan Sutherland before and barely knew her next move. But she
was
a genius, after all, so she would surely figure it all out soon.