The Wedding Promise

And if that turned out to be impossible she’d place a call to Zach and ask him to come back early and pick her up.

No way would her creative juices ever have a chance to start flowing again as long as Logan Hunter was around.

The thought added fuel to her anger, and resentment burned to her very bones as she let herself out by the kitchen door and stomped back down the hill to the cottage.

CHAPTER THREE

JUST before noon, Sara heard heavy footsteps outside the bathroom window and recognised Logan Hunter’s purposeful tread.

What did he want this time?

And his timing couldn’t have been worse, she decided as she glanced ruefully down at her skimpily clad figure!

She jumped when she heard his loud rat-tat-tat on the front door.

Wrapping a huge terry towel around herself, over her undies, she padded barefoot out of the bathroom, and was halfway along the passage when he knocked again.

She stopped at the closed door and spoke through it. ‘What do you want?’ Her tone was frosty.

‘I want to talk to you.’

‘This is not a good time.’

She listened. There was no sound of retreating feet. Heaving out a frustrated sigh, she leaned back against the door and looked down the narrow hallway to the living room. A dingy little room. And bare as a baby’s bottom. Minimum amount of furniture...sofa, two armchairs, one coffee table, one ancient TV. ‘I said,’ she threw into the hallway, ‘this is not a good time.’

‘Then I’ll wait here till it is. What I want to say has to be said.’

‘Through the door, then.’

‘To your face.’

‘Sorry, but—’

He shoved the door open and sent her flying down the passage. She only just managed to keep her balance, but as she scrambled to stay upright the towel became dislodged, caught under her feet and she tripped. Flailing in the air, she fell against the wall with a sideways thud that jarred her shoulder and knocked the breath out of her.

Logan Hunter loomed over her, his arms outstretched in an offer of help that wasn’t only too late, but also unwelcome.

‘You,’ she gasped, ‘are a menace!’ She snatched up her towel and breathlessly wrapped it around herself... but not before he’d treated himself to a good eyeful of every creamy curve! Resentment swept through her with the steaming heat of tropical rain.

‘Hey,’ he protested, ‘how was I expected to know you were leaning against the—?’

‘What right do you think you have to push your way in here as if you owned the place...?’ She halted, jolted by the sudden stunned expression in his eyes. ‘What’s the...?’

‘You’re green,’ he choked out. ‘What in the world happened to you? Are you sick?’

He staggered back against the opposite wall as if the very sight of her had knocked the knees from under him.

‘All right,’ she snapped, ‘say what you have to say then get out.’

‘It’s a face mask.’ He ran a hand over his mouth, and she was sure he was hiding a smile. ‘Ruined now, of course. Cracked all to hell.’ The smile couldn’t be contained. It became a chuckle. And then a full-bodied belly laugh. ‘Hey, I’m sorry ... but if you could only see yourself—’

‘Say what you have to say,’ she gritted, ‘and get out of here!’ Out of my life!

‘First of all, then—’ his voice had a strangled sound ‘—I came in here as if I owned the place because I do own the place.’

‘When it’s rented out, you have absolutely no right whatsoever to come in here without an invitation.’

‘Which you were not about to offer, as I recall—’

‘Nor ever will! OK, that’s the “First of all” taken care of. Now, what was the real point of your visit?’

‘I came to apologise.’

‘For...?’

‘For... assuming the worst this morning. For accusing you without asking for your side of the story. I assure you it won’t ever happen again.’

For a second, she melted. He looked so sincerely repentant, she was almost on the point of forgiving him. And then she heard a muffled moan come from deep in his throat, and she knew he was laughing at her. Again.

‘Get out!’ Temper aflare, she jerked the towel even more tightly around her breasts to make doubly sure it wouldn’t fall again as she marched back along the hall to the door, which still lay open.

She stalked to one side, bracing herself, waiting for him to pass by.

‘I think,’ he said softly, ‘it would be a good idea if, from now on, you and I could keep out of each other’s way.’

‘Oh, you’ll get no argument from me on that point, Mr Hunter. I couldn’t agree more.’

‘Well, hell, finally we’ve agreed on something. Who says miracles don’t happen?’

He grinned, and the sight infuriated her. She wanted to slap him, but she stood still as a marble statue, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how close to being out of control she really was.

He left then. And as he brushed past her his arm touched hers. She hadn’t been expecting that, nor could she possibly have anticipated the shock of electricity that passed between them. It jolted her whole body and she inhaled sharply. With the inhalation came the musky scent of him.

It was heady, and intoxicating, and erotic.

She stared after him, her legs sagging, her mind reeling, as he strode away along the path.

She couldn’t have moved had her life depended on it.

She was still standing there, rooted to the floor, long after he’d disappeared around the corner.

She’d never felt such a thing before. Oh, she’d read about it, but she’d never experienced it—that sexual electricity that could arc between a man and a woman.

It was disturbing...it was exhilarating.

And it was the very last thing in the world she wanted.

Over the next week, Logan saw next to nothing of his near-neighbour...but that didn’t mean he didn’t think about her.