“Towel?” He reappeared with two in his hand.
“Thanks.” He tossed one her way. Catherine peeled off her slicker and glanced around for a closet or someplace to put her jacket.
“I’ll take it,” he said, then hung her coat on a wooden coat stand already laden with more jackets than it could probably handle. “Easier than tossing them on the couch,” he said with a grin.
A smile tugged at her lips. “You’re a man. I’m amazed they make it as far as a coat hook.”
“You shouldn’t stereotype someone before you get to know them,” he said, warm humor in his voice. “They might just end up surprising you.”
Was he throwing out a challenge, waiting for her to back away? If so, he’d be disappointed. She’d come this far, and Catherine intended to see things through, wherever they led. She wasn’t sure when her decision had been made, but a rush of excitement flooded her veins.
She licked her dry lips. “So, you’re neat. I’m impressed,” she murmured.
“I should hope so,” he said in a deep voice. “Besides, some things just weren’t permitted while I was growing up. Leaving a trail of clothes behind me was one of them.” He shrugged. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t have help to pick up after you.”
“Of course, I did. But one hit upside the head by Emma and I was cured of that nasty habit for life.”
The vision was absurd, yet Catherine believed him. Emma spoke her mind and got what she wanted. A tremor rippled through her as she realized the implications—Logan had been raised by his grandmother. He, too, spoke his mind. And she sensed he also got what he wanted.
“Besides,” he said, “Emma was right.” The light and laughter in his eyes spoke of his love for his grandmother and Catherine’s respect for Logan grew. How could she not like a man with the ability to laugh at himself? A man who humored an old woman and wasn’t ashamed to let his love for her shine through.
“The help had their hands full catering to my parents. They didn’t need two spoiled kids added to the mix.”
“So, you also aren’t afraid to admit when you’re wrong.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I told you, I’m unique,” he said with a grin. “And about me being wrong? It doesn’t happen all that often.”
“Arrogance is a male quality I’ve come across often.”
“I said I was unique, but I never denied being male.”
As if she needed any reminders. Catherine gripped the soft towel tightly in her hand. “Emma kept you grounded, didn’t she?” she asked, deliberately changing the subject.
“You bet she did,” he said, drying his hair as he spoke. When he finished, he draped the towel over his broad shoulders.
That simple gesture was all it took to bring her reaction to him flooding back. His tie hung loosely around his neck and he’d opened the restricting collar of his shirt. His hair, damp and disheveled, created a rumpled appearance, making him look even sexier than he had earlier. Catherine hadn’t thought he could get any better. She’d been wrong.
Her gaze locked with his. Those dark, compelling eyes lingered on her in what felt like a heated caress. Yet he hadn’t lifted a hand, hadn’t touched any part of her body. It was only a matter of time.
Silence grew thick around them, but she couldn’t bring herself to glance away. Just looking at Logan caused a fluttering sensation in her stomach and a delicious throbbing need between her thighs. He stepped closer and her pulse kicked into high gear. Her heart rate soared. His steady gaze never veered from hers as he eased the towel out of her shaking hands and walked around until he stood behind her.
She could no longer see him, but she couldn’t mistake his presence. His body heat melded with hers and his breathing became a sexy, seductive hum in her ear. Without warning, the warm towel draped over her head and his strong hands began a rhythmic motion as he dried her hair and kneaded her scalp. Unable to help herself, she closed her eyes and leaned back into the hard planes of his chest.
No sooner did she shut her eyes than her other senses took over. The sound of the rain beating against the house in torrential, windswept sheets sounded loud in her ears. Or was it her heartbeat she heard so strongly? The need she felt was stronger than anything she’d experienced before.
Sensation took over. The light tugging at her scalp found an answering pull in other areas of her body. His arms rested on her shoulders, his hands worked at her hair—and her breasts grew heavy as an erotic pull began deep in her stomach, sending shock waves deeper, lower…
A purring noise startled her out of her sensual daydream and Catherine was shocked to realize the sound had come from her. An unexpected crack of thunder followed, and she jumped back, out of his reach.
Her heart beat fast and furious. It wasn’t fear of the storm driving her now but unbounded desire. She shook with unrestrained need. A need so strong it both consumed and unnerved her. “I can take it from here,” she said.
“Suit yourself, but first…” He reached for the end of the towel. His ragged breathing gave her a sense of comfort. The desire wasn’t one-sided. He wiped down her face with gentle pats that shouldn’t have felt sexy but did.
“Mascara,” he explained, revealing black stains on the pale towel.
“Oh.” She bit down on her lower lip. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” As his darkened gaze met hers, Catherine knew exactly what he meant.
“Why don’t you get out of those wet clothes?” he asked.
She tipped her head to one side. “Don’t you think you’re rushing things?”
He grinned. “I didn’t say I’d get you out
