Southern Hospitality (23 page)

Any doubts she had were allayed as she recognized his sudden defenselessness. She made quick work of the buttons down the front of his shirt, pulling it free of his waistband and opening the material to expose his chest. Closing her eyes for a moment, she savored the hair roughed texture against her palms, moving her hands back to his shoulders before burrowing beneath the material to slip it off his body.

Logan’s body was tense under her exploration. His eyes were hooded, but didn’t hide the lambent gray-blue fire as he slowly pulled on the zipper of her caftan. She tried to repress the slight shiver of excitement as he bared her body to his hungry gaze. Suddenly the soft material was in a pool at her feet, leaving her cloaked only in a scrap of silk at her hips. He didn’t touch her, seeming satisfied to study her grateful figure in the soft light.

“No, let me,” he whispered when she started to step out of her slippers. His hands closed over her shoulders, holding her in place as his eyes ran over her. He began at her rounded breasts, then slowly moved to the indentation of her waist, coming to rest on the thrust of her hips. His lips willingly followed the same path as he kissed his way down her body until he was on his knees before her. His compelling hands feathered down the length of her legs until they met at the heel of one slipper.

Tory closed her eyes against the exquisite delight. Logan removed each slipper, taking his time. Burying his face in the slight swell of her stomach, his hands moved upward to massage her firm buttocks, holding her in place. She moaned in response to the heat building in her as his lips traveled over the last barrier that veiled her from his sight.

She gazed in fascination at the top of his tousled head against her skin. Any minute she thought she’d explode from the intoxication that was building inside her. She’d made the right decision. This would be a memory she’d have for the rest of her life, no matter what happened. Tangling her fingers in his golden-brown hair, she tilted his face upward. His stormy eyes reflected her own excitement.

He rose to his feet and cupped her face gently in his hands, hands that were trembling slightly. “I can’t wait much longer. I’ve been thinking and hoping for this since that incredible night in Oklahoma.”

“Have you?” She didn’t recognize her own voice, husky with passion as his unsteady fingers removed her panties. She tried again when he pulled her into his arms, her sensitive breasts nestling into the heat of his chest. “Oh, Logan, I need you, too. Don’t wait. Next time you can be my gallant gentleman.”

“Next time? Oh, love, I hope you’re not overestimating my stamina,” he answered, triumph in his laugh as he swept her into his arms once more. When he placed her on the bed, he hastily dealt with the rest of his clothes. His hot gaze never leaving her body. “I’ve dreamed of you like this so many times since I carried you to bed that night. Leaving you alone was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.”

“You don’t have to leave tonight,” she promised, opening her arms to take him into her embrace.

They didn’t waste time on preliminaries. Both of them were already too impatient for the ultimate joining. His tongue explored her moist lips as he entered her feminine core. She wrapped her legs around his hips wanting to take all of him inside her. Their tentative, slow foreplay was forgotten. He moved over her in a steady rhythm that she gladly met.

She wanted to return every ounce of pleasure he was giving her, share the incredible tension that was growing, flowering inside her. His hands were moving over her, branding her with each touch. When his lips moved to suckle the pebble-hard peaks of her breasts, she cried out. She was spinning out of control and the only thing that would save her was holding on to the man who was taking her closer and closer to the vortex.

Impatiently, she quickened the pace. Her hands grasped his hips. The heated nucleus of her desire seemed to shatter into a thousand pieces of sparkling lights that coursed through every portion of her body. “Logan!”

He captured the sound with a searing kiss, reaching the peak of his gratification. They descended back to reality, his arms wrapped securely around her damp body. Slowly he rolled onto his side without breaking the connection of their bodies as a sweet lethargy settled over them.

Tory nestled her head in the crook of his shoulder, hiding her face against his neck. Her body was still trembling in reaction, her breath shallow. She could feel his rapid heart beat under her hand and couldn’t resist the tactile exploration of his chest.

“Tory?”

Pressing her fingers against his lips, she made a shushing sound against the taut column of his throat. She didn’t want to spoil the magic of the moment by talking. This was her night to dream. Tomorrow would be the time for talk. Until then, she would express her love with her body, giving Logan a precious memory when she said goodbye.

She sought his lips, trailing kisses as she went. Her reward was Logan’s moan of delight. As her body dissolved into his, she felt the rebirth of his desire growing inside her.

Tory climbed down from the truck and stretched her arms over her head to relieve her tired muscles. She’d been working extra hours in the week since Logan had gone to Texas. For the hundredth time she wondered how he reacted to the note she left beside him on the pillow the morning he left.

She’d woken up at dawn and knew she couldn’t face him. Leaving him peacefully sleeping, she went to the kitchen. Writing her farewell was the hardest thing she’d ever done. When she’d returned to the bedroom for her clothes, one look at Logan had tempted her to return to bed.

Memories of the night almost overwhelmed her, but she knew there wasn’t a future for them. No matter how much he tried to fit her pattern of the ideal mate, it couldn’t happen. She valued her independence too much to become involved with a man with Logan’s temperament. It was better to say goodbye now when there was less heartache. She’d turned and walked out the door, trying to ignore the tears in her eyes.

Dragging her feet, she went up the back steps to the main house. She didn’t want to be alone tonight. Maybe T.L. could distract her from her thoughts of Logan.

“Well, it’s about time you got home, young lady,” Arnette said as she walked into the kitchen. “You’re working yourself into the ground with this new store.”

“I had the last interviews for sales staff today. Next week it won’t be so bad,” Tory prevaricated. Next week wouldn’t be any different. Work was the only thing that kept her mind off her personal problems.

“Don’t sit down. You march yourself into the front parlor and help your daddy entertain his guest,” the older woman ordered. Tory hovered next to the chair she’d pulled out. “I had orders to hold dinner until you arrived, so march.”

“I really don’t think I’ll be good comp—”

“That’s an order. Besides, T.L.’s going to need all the help he can get with that one.”

“Who is it, Arnette?” Tory was intrigued by her tone of voice. There weren’t very many people who got on Arnette’s bad side.

“I don’t want to ruin the surprise. You need to experience this without any warning.”

Knowing she wouldn’t get any more information from Arnette, Tory followed her instructions. She could hear T.L.’s voice as she walked down the hall and was surprised to hear a feminine voice respond. A woman? A warning bell went off inside her head. Could T.L. have brought home a woman to introduce to the family? Is that what had Arnette in a snit?

Please tell me I’m wrong,
Tory pleaded silently as she stood in the parlor archway. The woman was tall, elegant, and looked as if she were smelling something bad. She sat poker-straight in one of the armchairs. The regal tilt of her head and the sleek, upsweep hairstyle made Tory think of royalty. The inner alarm rang again when the woman turned to regard Tory, but this time she knew her guess was more accurate. Logan must have inherited his eyes from his mother’s side of the family.

“Ah, Victoria, there you are,” T.L. practically boomed across the room. He was on his feet and walking toward her like a man reaching for a life preserver. “We have a visitor. I was truly amazed when I came home to discover that Logan’s mother decided to pay us a visit.”

He latched onto Tory’s arm, almost as if he was afraid she’d try to escape. Pulling her alongside him, he returned to Mrs. Herrington’s side. “Victoria, this is Enid Herrington. Enid, my daughter, Victoria.”

“How do you do?” Tory said formally, taking the limp, pale hand that Enid Herrington extended. Things must be pretty bad if T.L. was calling her Victoria.

“Charmed,” Enid managed, sounding anything but delighted. “Tyrone has been telling me about your little food business. You keep very unusual hours here in Arkansas.”

Tory didn’t know how to respond and looked at T.L. for some guidance. No one called her daddy Tyrone.

“Enid doesn’t believe in nicknames, Victoria. Isn’t that interesting?” T.L. raised his eyebrows and gave her a sickly smile that said,
Do something!

“It’s a shame that Logan is out of town right now,” Tory began, wondering how she could ask if he’d been expecting his mother. Or did he know she was coming and leave town on purpose?

“Actually I came on the spur of the moment, something I don’t usually do, of course. But I just had to see for myself what Preston had gotten Logan involved in down here.” She smoothed her hand over the skirt of her beige suit, which matched her beige hair and beige skin.

“Have you visited Arkansas before?” Tory asked, determined to find something she could talk about to this woman. She sat down on the sofa next to T.L. and was surprised at the strange noises he began to make at her question. He gave a short cough when she gave him an inquiring look.

“No, Victoria, I have never been here,” Enid returned, straightening her spine with exaggerated care. “I can’t think of any reason I would need to, actually. Once I’ve taken care of this nonsensical trip of Logan’s, I doubt I’ll ever come back.”

“Dinner.”

Arnette’s call to dinner cut off the sharp retort Tory was about to deliver. As T.L. made a show of escorting Enid to the dining room, Tory exchanged an understanding look with Arnette. It was possible one of them would kill the woman before her wandering son returned. If she did give into the temptation, Tory was sure Arnette would help her hide the body.

“What an interesting piano. Do you play, Victoria?” Enid asked as she walked back into the sitting room after dinner the second night of her visit.

Tory wondered if Enid Herrington had anything in her wardrobe that wasn’t beige. Tonight’s outfit was a jersey dress that did nothing to improve her coloring. Smiling at the thought, she answered graciously, “No, I don’t. Actually, Daddy bought it for the cupids. Isn’t that right, Tyrone?”

T.L. choked slightly on his brandy and glared at his daughter. “Yes, Victoria, that’s right. No one in the family plays, but I keep it in tune anyway. Arnette told me that Logan’s played it a few times during his visit. You’ve heard him, haven’t you, To—Victoria?”

“Yes, he played beautifully.” She wasn’t going to say another word until she was asked a question. Every minute in Enid Herrington’s presence reminded her of the reasons she could never have a lasting relationship with Logan. The woman was the ultimate snob. Logan couldn’t forget his years of training, no matter how many southern lessons he passed.

“How nice that he’s keeping up with it while he’s here,” his mother commented. Tory was amazed to see her give a genuine smile for the first time. “I taught him how to play as a child.”

“You did?” Tory and T.L. asked in unison.

“Yes, I did. Before my mother decided that I was going to marry Schuyler, I had aspirations of becoming a concert pianist,” she explained, her eyes beginning to sparkle at the memory. “Of course, in those days women weren’t encouraged to pursue a career. So, I married Schuyler in the biggest wedding that my mother could plan.

“Victoria, you’re very lucky that you can work at something you love,” Enid commented after taking a sip of Amaretto. “I’d like to see your new shop before I leave, if that’s possible.”

Tory quickly brought her coffee cup to her lips to keep her mouth from dropping open. Surely Enid Herrington wasn’t giving her a compliment. Had she been too hasty in judging her?

“Tomorrow might be a good day. Sunday should be slow. It’s hard to tell since we’ve only been open a week,” she found herself saying. “But I don’t have any extra catering scheduled, so we won’t be doing any extra cooking.”

“Thank you, I find catering fascinating. There’s so many functions that I organize. What’s truly amazing is how creative people can be with food. It must be quite challenging.”

“Well, if you ladies are going to discuss food, I think—”

“Now, Daddy, you don’t want our guest to think you’re rude,” Tory said hastily, stopping T.L. as he was halfway out of his chair. She reinforced her words with a fierce look. The woman might be interested in catering, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be left alone with her. “I was hoping we could get Enid to play something for us.”

“What an excellent idea, just as soon as I refill my glass,” he agreed as if he’d simply been standing up to get more brandy, instead of trying to make a getaway.

“Oh, I don’t want to impose,” Enid said faintly, already flexing her fingers.

“If you taught Logan, we’re in for a real treat,” Tory returned with genuine enthusiasm.