Chapter One

Logan sunk both his hands in the heavy thickness of Dee's hair and drew her closer. The honey blond tresses tumbled over his face and chest in a sensual caress. Her hair felt like silk against his skin and smelled honeysuckle sweet. He inhaled deeply, knowing that the scent of her was indelibly printed on his mind and in his heart.

She was all woman in his arms: strong, supple, sexy. He'd never known anyone more passionate, more responsive, or more giving. A tremor shook him at the feel of her lush curves sliding over the masculine angles of his hard form. Warm feminine flesh melded with hot male flesh, bringing forth a shared moan of satisfaction.

Since meeting Dee he'd started thinking about things like promises, permanency, and serious commitments. The feelings were new, exciting, and exhilarating.

He slid his hands over her bare shoulders as her lips nibbled at his. He sipped at the sweetness of her mouth while his hands stroked the smooth, bare curves of her waist and hips. Kissing Dee had introduced him to a whole new realm of sensuality, had taught him that kissing could create an aching need that was so much deeper than the physical. As she sucked gently on his tongue, his arms engulfed her and he dragged her closer.

“I love you.” His voice was hoarse with arousal. He'd never said those words to another woman in all his thirty-five years, but there was no hesitancy. He loved her. He'd fallen swiftly and completely. It was scary, but the lightness of it seared his soul.

“I love you more.”

Her husky whisper sent a shudder over his big body and made his muscles tighten with tension. Blood throbbed heavily through his veins. This time his mouth devoured hers. Their tongues slid against each other in a deep rhythm, twisting and tangling in pleasure.

When it was necessary to draw a breath, Logan gently lifted Dee until he could bury his face between her breasts. He nuzzled their softness, then slid his lips to one plump nipple and greedily suckled until it beaded in his mouth. He wasn't satisfied until he'd done the same to its mate. The soft, sexy sounds she made had him shivering with desire. Even more so when she writhed against him in demand.

He couldn't get enough of her. He never seemed to get close enough to her. His need for her was insatiable. He'd worried that his relentless desire might frighten her, but she didn't complain. She wanted him just as much.

Her soft hands on his body nearly drove him insane. His every nerve ending was tight with tension. His stomach muscles coiled and his blood ran hot. He wanted to sheathe himself in her softness. Nothing else could satisfy the savage hunger. Nothing short of total possession could sate his primitive need to make her a part of him.

Lifting his hips, he searched for the secret part of her where he could lock them together and feel whole again. He strained towards Dee's softness, seeking, seeking, but not finding.

His body didn't find the warm counterpart it sought and his sensual haze was pierced by a strident ringing in his ears.

“Noooo!” An agonized groan erupted from deep in his chest. “No! Dammit! No!”

Logan's voice was thick with anger and frustration as his alarm clock shattered the sweetness of his dream and forced him into consciousness. He slammed a hand against the clock to halt the jarring noise and allowed himself a shuddering moan.

It was just another erotic dream to threaten his sanity. His body was tight with tension, aching and soaked in sweat. He shifted his legs restlessly and groaned in an agony of need.

The recurring dreams were driving him crazy. It had been months since he'd held Dee in his arms. She'd made it clear that she didn't want anything to do with him, yet the dreams were still vivid enough to make him ache with unfulfilled longing.

Last night he'd tried to satisfy the need with another woman. He hadn't succeeded, and the dream taunted him for the useless attempt to wipe her from his mind. He didn't want anyone else. No other woman excited him the way she did. The dreams were his only link with the woman he loved, but had deliberately alienated.

Leaping from bed, he strode to the bathroom, then suffered another brief, brutally cold shower. The icy barrage didn't cool his temper. The anger he directed at himself never seemed to abate.

Dee had confessed her love to him and he'd shared her desire for commitment. Then he'd learned she was a professional pilot. When she'd described her dedication to her career and her devotion to her family's business, his confidence had crumbled. He'd panicked and had been paying every since.

Pride had been his downfall. He'd been scared and had reacted without thinking. He'd behaved like a total jerk and demanded that she choose between him and flying. He'd let his own fears and insecurities destroy their fragile relationship. He was a fool. She'd never forgive him.

He lived with the agony of not knowing whether she gave her sweetness and passion to other men because of his cruel rejection. It had been months since he'd seen or talked to her. It seemed like years, an eternity.

Logan shaved and dressed in his usual boots, soft jeans, and cotton shirt. It was barely dawn, but he left the house and headed for the barns. Within an hour of waking, he was astride Brutus, his big gelding, and was galloping across fields toward the construction site. Brutus loved to run, so his master gave him his head, and they raced across rich Kentucky bluegrass in an effort to burn off pent-up energy.

 When Logan finally reined his horse, they were perched atop a rolling hill overlooking a long, flat plateau. Below them was the nearly completed construction site of an asphalt runway and metal hangar.

The thought of having planes landing and taking off from his property created a turbulent mixture of emotions. Sometimes the idea chilled him to the bone. His aversion to flying was deep-seeded and intense, but he was committed to the expansion plans.

Jake agreed with him. His foreman said it was high time the Circle B's had its own air transportation. They raised saddle horses and the business had prospered over the past few years. They sold horses to all areas of the country, but it was becoming too expensive and time-consuming to transport their stock by truck and trailer.

So he'd invested in an airplane. The Bradford Bluegrass emblem of interlocking B's within a circle would appear on the plane just as it appeared on every other vehicle and product of the ranch.

Construction was scheduled to be completed within two weeks. The plane would be delivered soon. He, Jake Travis, and their youngest trainer, Butch Troyer, were going to take flying lessons so that they could share the piloting.

A shudder ripped through him at the thought, and his hands tightened on the reins. Sensing his tension, Brutus shifted restlessly beneath him. Logan relaxed his grip and soothed the horse with gentle words and a kinder hand.

The flying lessons would start as soon as Jake found a qualified instructor willing to live at the Circle B's for four to six weeks. That was the average length of time needed for all aspects of the training and to clock both dual and solo flying hours. Logan was familiar with the routine and was trying to mentally prepare himself for the ordeal.

They couldn't spare the time to travel any distance for lessons, so Jake was looking for someone who was willing to come to Kentucky. Logan didn't want any part of the hiring. He'd left all the details to his foreman, avoiding all aspects of the project until it was absolutely necessary to become involved.

He'd offered the training to all his employees, but Jake and Butch were the only takers. They'd gotten a lot of ribbing from the rest of the men, but it was good-natured, and they were looking forward to the training.

He was not.

He could only hope that his pride was a strong enough motivator to force him inside a cockpit. He'd planned carefully so that there was no coward's way out. He'd have to conquer his fear of flying or he'd never be able to hold his head high again.

He wasn't looking forward to the battle, but then he hadn't looked forward to much of anything lately. Even the height of the foaling season hadn't stirred much interest. He loved to work with horses, but his usual enthusiasm just wasn't there.

If fear was the best motivator, he was going to find out which was stronger, his fear or his pride. He hoped the flying instructor Jake hired would have lots of patience and nerves of steel.

 Thinking of pilots always turned his thoughts to Dee. He still couldn't reconcile himself to the fact that his sexy, ultra-feminine lover was a pilot. Reaching into the back pocket of his jeans, he withdrew his wallet and found the picture of three women with lovely, identical features.

Three sets of beguiling green eyes smiled at him and created an ache in his heart. Dee hadn't told him about her sisters, but he'd accidentally run into one of them in Lexington. She'd given him the photograph.

Triplets. They were wearing matching khaki uniforms with the name Prescott Air Service in blue over their hearts. Logan tried to picture Dee in the cockpit of a plane, but the image caused a shudder to course over him. He had to find a way to squelch the sick fear he experienced at the thought of her risking her life each day. Battling his fear was the only way he could hope to set things straight with her.

So he was attempting to combine her world and his. He was having an airstrip constructed on his property. It was a start, but just barely. He had a great deal more to accomplish before he considered himself worthy of Dee's love.

* * * * *

Darla “Dee” Prescott had five years of experience in flight instruction. She'd started teaching at the age of twenty. That's when her family had launched an air charter service on the Virginia plantation that had belonged to her mother's family for generations.

Dee had a wealth of patience. She loved people, she loved flying and training other people to pilot a small plane. Sometimes she was asked, and agreed, to spend a few weeks instructing students on their own private airstrips.

Raised as an Air Force brat, she was used to traveling around the country. She didn't mind the occasional assignment that sent her to interesting locations. Sometimes the assignments offered her a pleasant change from living and working closely with her family.

“Mr. Travis has asked that you come to his horse farm in Kentucky for at least a month,” explained Belle, Dee's mother, and the charter service's receptionist and schedule manager. “You'll have the opportunity to extend the lessons if you think it's necessary.”

“The farm's owner is presently constructing a hangar and runway. He's purchased a small transport plane and wants to train three men to fly it. I got the impression that the farm is more like a big ranch operation, and the business is thriving.”

“Why do they need an airstrip?” Dee asked. She and her sisters, Sharla and Carlie, were getting their usual Monday morning briefing from their mother.

“They raise and sell horses,” Belle explained. “I believe he said both saddle horses and some thoroughbreds. They want to be able to transport the horses by air instead of trucking them all over the country.”

“What's the name of the farm?” asked Dee.

“The Circle B's.”

“Did Mr. Travis say what the B's stand for?”

“Something to do with bluegrass, I believe,” Belle told her.

“Are all the prospective pilots men?” asked Sharla, Dee's older sister by two minutes.

Her sisters also piloted for Prescott Air Service. The three of them were triplets and nearly identical in looks. They stood five and a half feet tall, had brilliant turquoise eyes and sun-streaked, honey blond hair. Today, as most days, they were dressed in matching khaki uniforms bearing the Prescott Air Service emblem.

Their hair was the only feature that distinguished their differences. Dee's fell heavily to her waist, Carlie's was cut in a smooth pageboy with wispy bangs, and Sharla's curly, layered style fell over her shoulders like a cloak.

“I believe all three are men, but they've assured me that Dee will be adequately chaperoned. She'll be treated as a guest in the owner's home, and his household staff lives on the property. He's willing to furnish you with a car while you're there and take care of your expenses,” she told Dee.

Belle epitomized the socially and morally correct southern belle. Despite a few age lines on her face and the silver in her hair, she was as beautiful as her daughters and very concerned about proper behavior.

The pilots and their mother were sharing a rare slow morn­ing at the service. Since the office was within walking distance of the family home where they each had apartments, they spent a great deal of time together. Today, they'd arrived at work early and were discussing upcoming projects as they lingered over coffee.

“Anyone care for more?” Sharla asked, as she refilled her cup and then moved around the homey re­ception room to refill the others.

“Sounds like a cushy job,” Carlie teased, eyes dancing. “Of course you'll be stuck in Kentucky for a month, but then your social life isn't exactly thrilling here, either.”

“My social life suits me just fine,” Dee retorted. She didn't date much, but it was by choice, not for the lack of interested men.

“Mr. Travis did warn me that your students would still have their usual work load and that you might have to keep odd hours, but he agreed to be as helpful as possible.”

“The summertime is probably the busiest season on a horse farm,” said Sharla.

Carlie added, “It's also the best time to learn to fly, since the weather is more settled. They probably want to squeeze their lessons in between their other chores.”

“Is Travis the owner of this operation?” Dee wanted to know.

“I believe he's the manager or foreman or someone in author­ity whom the owner trusts to make major decisions,” said her mother.

“While you're there, you might look over their stock and pick out some horses for us,” Carlie suggested. “We've been promising ourselves we’d buy riding horses for five years.”

The Prescott family lived in the sprawling mansion on the plantation, but until their business was established, had little time for recreation. Now that the air service was thriving, they had plans to hire an extra pilot, and they were looking forward to some free time again.

“That's a good idea,” chimed Belle. “It's been years since we had riding horses on the property. Your dad had the barn restored, but never has gotten around to buying stock.”

“I don't know much more about horses than how to ride them, but if Mr. Travis raises them, he should be able to offer some advice. How many do you think we should buy?”

“I don't know,” Belle said. “We'll have to ask your Papa Bear.” Harold “Bear” Prescott had been dubbed Papa Bear by his adored daughters while they were still toddlers.

Now a retired Air Force Sergeant, he'd been nicknamed Bear while in the service. The name was more of a physical de­scription than a characterization, yet only his family dared to add Papa to the nickname.

Bear's specialty is airplane mechanics. Most of his time is spent keeping Prescott Air Service aircraft in mint condition, but his second love is the restoration of the family plantation.

“If we get too many, we'll have to hire extra help,” said Sharla. They employed a married couple as housekeeper and caretaker, but the grounds were extensive. “Horses need daily attention, and none of us can spare the time.”

“Besides, Sharla's going to get married and leave home,” Carlie reminded. “If Dee keeps going off for months at a time, I'll be the only one here to exercise a horse.”

Sharla had recently become engaged to U.S. Marshal Reed Connors, and the family was still trying to come to terms with the idea of her leaving home. The sisters were especially close and had never suffered lengthy separations.

“I'm not going to live on the moon,” Sharla chided. “I'm just moving to D.C., and I'll be here every day for work. Reed and I will be coming for visits, you know.”

Belle sniffed and reached for a handkerchief, as she did every time Sharla's marriage was mentioned. She was thrilled about the engagement, but she still got emotional about having one of her babies leave home.

All three sisters grinned. Dee and Carlie knew that Sharla and Reed were deeply in love. They were happy for the couple, but they also realized that life as they'd known it for twenty-five years was changing.

Except for Carlie's brief, disastrous marriage at the age of eighteen, the triplets had made their home with their parents, and had been devoted to their work and family.

“Have you two settled on a date yet?” Dee asked.

“We want to wait until we both have some time for a hon­eymoon,” Sharla explained. “Reed will have a month's vaca­tion coming in September. By then Dee should be back from Kentucky, and Daddy should have another pilot hired.”

Bear had been advertising for an experienced pilot to join the service on a full-time basis. The triplets had worked un­selfishly to get the business established, but they wanted and had earned more time for their personal lives.

“So you'll be spending most of July and maybe some of August in Kentucky?” Sharla asked Dee.

“I think so,” she replied. “It'll be a challenge to train three men at one time. I taught those three teenagers in Texas, but they weren't on a limited schedule It should be interesting.”

“When will you be leaving?” asked Carlie.

Dee glanced at her mother.

“Mr. Travis says they'll be ready after the holiday on the fourth. I'll schedule your arrival for the Monday after,” she said.

Belle's organizational skills were legendary, but until the air service had been launched, the skills had been utilized for so­cial activities, her daughters' education, and taking care of her family. She'd surprised them all when she'd decided to put her skills to use in the business. She argued that if she ever wanted to see her loved ones, then she had to be near the airfield.

Dee trusted her mother to take care of all the arrangements for her stay in Kentucky. Belle was a stickler about insuring the safety of her daughters, so Dee didn't worry about what she would find at her temporary home.

“I've done some checking on this farm you'll be visiting,” Belle said, causing the grins on her daughters' faces to widen. “The property has been in the same family for generations and the present owner is highly respected. I've been assured that he's a gentleman and will be a considerate host.”

“Is he tall, dark, handsome, and disgustingly rich?” Sharla wanted to know.

“Is he married?” asked Carlie.

Belle frowned a little. “He's a confirmed bachelor. One of those horsey types, I imagine, but his sister lives with him and so does his housekeeper.”

“Just so Dee is properly chaperoned,” Carlie teased, tongue in cheek.

Their childhood had been spent moving from one Air Force base to another, and the triplets had learned early in life to adjust to new surroundings. Bear had insisted that they all be trained in self-defense, so none of them was especially concerned about chaperons, but they liked to humor their mother.

“If you aren't satisfied with the arrangements,” Belle told Dee, “then you can come right back home. I made it clear to Mr. Travis that you're to have the right of refusal if you don't like their operation.”

“Does Mr. Travis have a first name?” Dee wanted to know.

“His name is Jacob, but I believe he told me he prefers to have it shortened to Jake. He and his boss will be students along with one other member of their staff. He'll be the one coordinating the training, so I imagine he'll give you all the details. I told him you would stop on a brief visit this week to finalize your plans.”

“When am I doing that?”

“We have a charter for Louisville tomorrow. I thought you could stop over in Lexington on the way back.”

Dee nodded in agreement. “What ages are we talking? Are all three men about the same age?” Having been with a student when her mother made arrangements with Jake Travis, she hadn't met him personally and didn't have a clue about his iden­tity.

“Mr. Travis is in his early thirties. He said one of the stu­dents is just out of high school, and his employer is older. He didn't mention his boss's age. I assume he's middle-aged.”

“Variety is the spice of life, they say,” Dee teased as she finished her coffee and disposed of her cup. “I'll feel like an old-fashioned schoolmarm with students in every age group.”

“I can actually picture you with your hair in a bun and a yardstick in your hand,” Sharla told her. “The image suits you. You've always been the most old-fashioned romantic in the family.”

“Me?” Dee challenged. “You're the one who's had stars in her eyes since flying into the sunset with an incredibly sexy Marshal.”

Sharla put both hands on her hips and glared at her sister. “You shouldn't be noticing how sexy my man is!” she insisted.

Dee and Carlie laughed outright, while their mother smoth­ered a smile. They were all very pleased by Sharla's first and only experience with true love. They delighted in teasing her.

“Girls,” admonished Belle, “it's not proper for young ladies to be thinking about or discussing a man's sex appeal.”

“I wonder if Dee's new crop of students will be a sexy bunch,” Carlie said, totally ignoring her mother's rebuke.

“You shouldn't concern yourself with such things,” Belle insisted demurely. “However, Mr. Travis is quite handsome, and he has lovely manners.”

“Handsome and sexy, Mother?” Dee taunted with a mischie­vous smile.

“If I hadn't sworn off men altogether,” chimed Carlie, eyes glinting wickedly, “I'd come to Kentucky and help you teach those cowboys how to really fly.”

“Carla Denise!” Belle admonished in a scandalized tone.

“Uh, oh,” said Sharla, “It's time to get to work if Mother's going to start tossing out middle names.”

“Right you are, Sharla Louise.” Dee leveled her taunt as she headed for the door and held it open for her sisters.

“Can it, Darla Joann.”

Belle clucked her tongue at her squabbling offspring. She'd been making the same motherly noises for more than twenty-five years. They ignored her, as usual.

She'd given birth to and raised three beautiful, intelligent daughters, but they did tend to be a little spirited and head­strong. They loved to tease one another, but despite their di­verse personalities, they were devoted sisters. She and Bear were extremely proud of them.

Over the years, there had always been something to worry about when raising their daughters. Right now, she was worried about Darla.

Dee was technically her middle child, and the most gentle, sensitive person she'd ever known. She had a sixth sense, a special ability to feel things that most people couldn't. Belle's maternal grandmother, Ida Batiste, had been the same.

People called it extrasensory perception these days, but in her grandmother's time, people had just accepted the fact that Ida could feel and see things that were beyond the normal person's vision.

In recent years, Dee's abilities had grown stronger. It was both a gift and a curse. Last month her unusual perception had saved Sharla and Reed's lives. That was truly a blessing.

But Dee was also plagued by the ability to know exactly how people felt about her; whether they liked her or were just pretending to like her. She knew if they were jealous, envious, or downright vicious.

Dee's unique sensitivity had caused her to become rather isolated in recent years. She was open and loving with her family, and always friendly, but she remained a very private and self-contained woman.

Last winter, she'd gone on vacation after Christmas and come home with deep emotional wounds. Belle knew that Dee had finally trusted someone with her heart, and that she'd been hurt in the process, but she'd adamantly refused to discuss the matter with her family.

Bear had wanted to find the man who'd hurt his baby and tear him limb from limb. Sharla and Carlie had tried to comfort their sister, but Dee had been inconsolable. She was just be­ginning to recover her normal, sunny disposition.

A frown marred Belle's features as she wondered if sending Dee to Kentucky was a good idea. She hadn't discussed the decision with Bear. He didn't approve of her meddling, but a mother had to do what was best for her babies.

Anyway, Dee would go there tomorrow and learn the truth. It was up to her to make a final decision about accepting the assignment.

Chapter Two

The late June sunshine was bright and warm as Dee flew her Cessna through the blue skies over Kentucky. She'd taken a charter to Louisville at noon and then headed back east to­ward Lexington. Now she was nearing the property where she'd land just long enough to meet her prospective students.

As she neared the coordinates she'd been given for the horse farm, she gradually decreased elevation and flew closer to the ground to search for Circle B's airfield. Once she caught sight of the paved strip, she circled the property and radioed her approach to their base operator.

Touchdown was smooth and easy. The winds were calm and the strip was paved, either new or recently resurfaced. Its ex­cellent condition would be a real benefit to student fliers; eas­ing their takeoffs and landings.

The two men at the edge of the tarmac waited for the plane's engine to die before approaching the aircraft. They watched intently as a slender, shapely, uniform-clad body stepped from the cockpit.

Then their eyes widened with admiration and pleasure. They'd known Prescott's flight instructor was single and female, but they hadn't known or expected that she would be young, blond and gorgeous.

As Dee climbed from the cool cockpit of the plane, she was engulfed by sunshine. A soft, sweetly scented breeze filled her lungs and brushed her skin, refreshing her after hours spent in the confines of the Cessna.

She was a true sensualist who loved to feel the sun's warmth on her face and the wind against her flesh. She had keen in­stincts and a unique ability to judge the physical and spiritual hospitality of most places she visited.

Dee always trusted her instincts, and so far, this little chunk of Kentucky was very pleasing to her senses. A serene smile was extended to the men who met her halfway to the hangar.

“Miss Prescott?” queried the older of the two. The tall, sol­idly built man reached her in a few strides and offered a hand in greeting. “I'm Jake Travis. Welcome to the Circle B's.”

Dee liked the feel of the strong, work-roughened hand that dwarfed her own. Her first impression of Travis was favorable. His hazel eyes were honest and welcoming without being flir­tatious. She made steady eye contact for several seconds, mak­ing certain there was no sign of the chauvinism or an underlying resentment of her gender.

“This is Butch Troyer, one of our trainers and one of our wannabe pilots,” said Jake.

Dee turned to the sandy-haired youth and extended her hand. The younger man's grasp was brief, but his grip was firm. He was a head shorter than Travis, with a lanky build and a too-thin face. His eyes were blue and endearingly shy, but he didn't hesitate to enthuse over her landing.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Prescott. You sure did set that plane down nice and gentle. It was a pure pleasure to watch.”

His praise was sincere, but the teacher in Dee didn't want him to think it was always mat easy. “That's because you have some nice, smooth asphalt,” she countered. “It makes a lot of difference in the landing.”

“Everything's new,” Jake explained. “The strip was just finished last week. Our plane won't be delivered until Friday. I hope you didn't need to see it today.”

Dee shook her head, tossing her long, heavy braid from side to side. “We won't be flying it for a while. There's a lot of classroom work to do first, and I usually do most of the dual time in my Cessna. It's equipped with an extra set of controls for training.”

“We'll get to fly that plane?” Butch asked in an awed tone as he gazed at her aircraft.

“It's a lot more streamlined than a cargo plane,” Dee ex­plained. “We'll train on it and then adjust for your carrier when everyone's comfortable with the controls.”

Butch couldn't seem to take his eyes off the plane, and Dee smiled with gentle understanding. “You're welcome to check it out, if you like,” she told him. “Climb all over it if you want.”

Butch's eyes lit with excitement. He shot another glance at Dee and then to Jake.

“Go ahead and look it over,” the foreman told him. “I'm going to take Ms. Prescott up to the house to meet the boss.”

“You're sure you don't mind?”

“I'm sure,” she said. “If you're going to learn to fly, you need to get familiar with every inch of it.”

“Right!” said Butch, her reasoning putting wings on his feet as he flew toward the plane.

Dee watched him, appreciating his enthusiasm. Students who were genuinely thrilled with planes were by far the easiest ones to teach.

“Butch's been impatient ever since we mentioned the idea of taking flying lessons. He's a first-rate horse trainer, but I'm beginning to think his real passion is airplanes,” said Jake as Dee turned her eyes back to him.

“He seems genuinely interested,” she teased.

Jake shared a grin with her, admiring the way her eyes spar­kled with amusement. They were beautiful eyes, their color just a shade greener than the turquoise in his belt buckle. She also had a sense of humor. That was a must for functioning with his crew.

“I'll take you up to the house. It's a pretty long walk across the fields, so we'll go by truck.”

They fell into step and headed for a dusty pickup parked near the hangar. Jake opened the passenger door for her and offered a hand of assistance. Then he closed the door and moved to the driver's side. Dee made a mental note to mention his good manners to her mother.

“Are you on a tight schedule today?” he asked as he put the truck in gear and headed down a narrow dirt road.

“No,” she said, brushing a wispy curl off her face. “I had a charter this morning, but I don't have anything else scheduled until evening.”

“Have you had lunch?”

“Yes, thanks. I ate in Louisville.”

“How long can you stay? Would you like a complete tour of the property?”

“Not this time,” she told him, turning her face to catch the breeze through the window. “I only stopped to meet everyone, then I have to be on my way. I want to be back in Virginia by late afternoon.”

Jake nodded. “Well, you've already met Butch and me. The boss'll be your third student. He's supposed to be at the house. He can answer any questions you have about your contract and show you the guest suite you'll be using.”

“He and his sister are in residence now?”

“Yeah. Patti just graduated from college, and she's spending the summer at home trying to decide if she wants to get a job or go back to school for her master's degree.” His tone was a mix of affection and exasperation, implying that the woman in question didn't know what she wanted to do.

Dee was surprised. She'd thought the owner's sister would be much older. She'd imagined a career woman, a widow, a spinster, or a divorcee. She hadn't considered other reasons a woman might be living at home with her brother.

“Mattie Walters is the cook and housekeeper. She lives here, too, in an apartment on the top floor of the house. She's been with the family since Patti was a little girl. She's a real nice lady, and I'm sure the two of you will get along just fine.”

“Do most of the employees live on the properly?” she asked.

“I have a small house down by the river,” Jake explained. “It comes with the job. A few years ago, we converted an old smoke house into two efficiency apartments. Butch and our other trainer, Grif Myers, bunk there, but most of the help lives off the property.”

The staff sounded like a tightly knit family, and Dee won­dered how well they worked together. She was extremely sen­sitive to high levels of tension amongst the people she worked with, so she avoided situations where there was constant emo­tional turmoil. That's why she never agreed to long-term train­ing schedules until she'd gotten a feel for the overall atmosphere of a prospective training center.

“This certainly is some beautiful country,” she commented. From the air she had seen miles and miles of white board fences that framed patchwork fields. The truck was moving down a narrow road that wove between grazing pastures. In the dis­tance, she could see rolling hills and dense woodlands. A wide, winding stream seemed to meander across the entire property.

“We've been lucky so far this summer,” said Jake. “We've had plenty of rain, but no flooding. It's been good weather for crops and livestock.”

“Mother said you raise saddle horses. Do you raise a lot of crops, too?”

“Mostly alfalfa and oats for the livestock,” he explained. “In years past, a lot of tobacco was raised in this area, but not so much anymore. We run a few head of cattle, but just to supply beef for the local area.”

“How far are we from Lexington?”

“We can be there in a half-hour or so, depending on how fast you drive,” he said, throwing her a teasing glance.

Dee matched his smile, then turned her attention to the huge white house that came into view for the first time. As they rounded a corner and passed through an ornate iron gateway, she got a full view of a sprawling, two-storied house that matched her own mansion home in size and grandeur. It was another plantation home like the many that dotted the old South.

The house didn't have stately pillars like her Virginia home, but a wide verandah circled the entire building, and was adorned with an inviting collection of wicker swings, gliders, and rock­ing chairs. The homestead was guarded by heavy willow trees, and an abundance of flower beds provided a riot of color to the picturesque scene.

“What a gorgeous place,” she enthused, feeling a deep, un­expected affinity for the gracious old home.

“It is that.”

Jake swung the truck around the circular drive and parked near the front porch. Dee opened her door and was immedi­ately assaulted by the sweet, heady scent of honeysuckle. A profusion of flowering vines wove through the latticed rails surrounding the verandah.

She inhaled deeply as she stepped from the truck. “I love the smell of honeysuckle.”

Jake grinned. “Then you're going be right at home here.” He lightly grasped her elbow and ushered her up the porch steps to the front door.

When she stepped through the door into a large foyer, Dee was bombarded with sensation. The big old home seemed to open its arms and envelop her with welcoming warmth. The feelings of belonging, of coming home, were so strong that she was temporarily disconcerted.

She'd been in plenty of houses that she found warm and aesthetically pleasing, but she'd never experienced such a dra­matic sense of affinity with someone else's home.

Jake led her through a wide archway and into a huge, brightly lit living room with several long windows and an in­credibly high ceiling. The windows were framed by sheer, lacy Priscilla curtains that allowed the sun to bathe the room and spar­kle with prismatic beauty on the crystal of an old-fashioned chan­delier.

The room's carpeting was a shade between blue and gray. The furnishings were a high-back, early American sofa, a loveseat, and easy chairs in a pleasing blend of dusty blue and pale green. The overall effect was bright and pleasing to the senses.

“What a wonderful room!” she exclaimed in delight.

A soft, feminine voice responded. “Thank you.”

Dee and Jake turned toward another doorway as the owner of the voice moved closer. Dressed in cut-off jeans and an over­sized T-shirt, the young woman looked like a teenager, but her eyes shone with the wisdom and intelligence of added years.

“I just had the room redone this spring,” she said, joining them. “My brother thinks it's too pretty and feminine, but I think it's perfect.”

Dee returned her smile. “I think you're right.”

“Patti,” said Jake. “This is Ms. Prescott. She's a flight in­structor; here to decide if she wants to tackle the job of teach­ing us men to fly.”

The younger woman's hair was pale blond and just touched her shoulders. An abundance of soft curls bounced as she nod­ded her head in greeting. Blue eyes were brimming with cu­riosity, but her manners were above reproach.

“Welcome to the Circle B's. I heard your plane land. I don't know why anyone would take-on the awesome task of teaching three hardheaded men to fly, but I sure wouldn't mind having another female on the property. After four years of college dorm life, this place seems awfully quiet.”

“Quiet?” Jake argued, giving Dee the impression that he made a habit of disagreeing with the boss' sister. “How could anybody call this place quiet?”

Patti ignored his question and gave Dee a grin that made her elfin features radiate mischief. “Notice that he didn't at­tempt to correct my remark about hardheaded men.”

Dee's smile widened as she glanced from Patti to Jake. There seemed to be a very strong attraction between the two of them, yet she had a feeling neither was willing to accept the fact. Still, the vibrations were strong.

While Patti's eyes challenged, Jake was shaking his head in resignation.

“My father was a career Air Force sergeant,” Dee offered. “So I'm more used to hardheaded men than any other kind.”

“That's good,” Patti replied, “because my brother—”

Jake interrupted her. “Where is your brother?”

“He's in the office, snarling at someone on the telephone.”

“Probably Ross Parker. He wants us to board that mean-spirited stallion of his until his trainer gets back from vacation.”

“The horse that nearly killed two of his men?”

“The very same,” said Jake, frowning.

Conversation halted and all three of them turned to the in­side doorway as they heard the heavy sound of boots moving toward them across hardwood floors. A shiver of unexpected anticipation hit Dee, unsettling her with its intensity.

She tensed, eyes widening and heart racing, as a tall, broad-shouldered man strode into the room and closed the distance between them. Her breath hissed out in shock as silvery blue eyes immediately locked on her.

“Dee!”

The sound of her name on his lips was incredibly intimate, and stunned everyone in the room—especially her.

She didn't want to hear his husky voice brimming with pleasure. She didn't want his gaze locked on her in amazed delight. She never wanted to be anywhere within miles of Logan Bradford.

She hated him. She'd never hated anything or anyone in her life until she'd met Logan Bradford. She'd learned how to hate at the same time she'd learned how to love with all her heart. She'd given him her love, and he'd thrown it back at her. She hated him with a passion intensified by the depth of emotion he'd introduced her to.

Her eyes frosted with displeasure, then shot from Logan back to Jake. If Logan was the boss of this operation, she didn't want anything to do with it. “I think there's been a serious mistake here.”

Logan flinched at her tone. Normally a very private man, he'd been caught off guard by the sight of the woman who made passionate love to him nightly, but only in his dreams. He fought to contain the heady rush of pleasure that left him raw and vulnerable.

She didn't share his elation at seeing each other after months of separation, and that knowledge reinforced his defenses. His expression grew tight and guarded, his posture stiff and eyes challenging as he took the offensive.

“What's wrong, Dee? You couldn't have been here more than a few minutes. Are you finding the backwoods of Ken­tucky so unappealing already?”

Dee's eyes flashed, displaying a depth of fiery spirit that would have seemed unlikely a minute earlier. She rarely lost her temper, but when she did, people took notice.

She knew Logan was referring to her rejection of his mar­riage proposal six months ago. He was suggesting, that she'd refused him because of where he lived, and that had little to do with her decision.

“I'm a professional flight instructor,” she informed him stiffly. “I don't have to love a location before I can train people to fly.”

Logan went pale beneath his tan. For a stunned second all he could do was stare at her. He'd been so damned pleased to see her that he hadn't considered why she was here. Now he took in her attire and shuddered. The jumpsuit she was wearing matched the one he'd seen her sister wearing at the Lexington airport, and bore the emblem of Prescott Air Service.

He'd deliberately let Jake handle the hiring of an instructor, avoiding the project for as long as possible. He'd known Dee was a pilot, but not an instructor. Never in his worst nightmare had he imagined his foreman would hire the one woman in the world he didn't want to know about his aversion to planes.

If Dee's emotions hadn't been in such a turmoil, she'd have realized that he was more shocked than she was. Nobody could fake so violent a reaction.

Patti immediately realized the depth of her brother's re­sponse. “Logan?” she injected in confusion and concern.

“Leave us.” He couldn't find the strength to soften his com­mand. His eyes never left Dee, but his order was directed at his sister and foreman.

Patti started to protest, but Jake nudged her toward the door. “I could use something cold to drink,” he said, following close behind her until they were out of the living room and headed for the kitchen.

“Did you hear his voice when he said her name? Did you see him close up when she gave him the cold shoulder?” Patti's whispered questions came in a fierce rush after they left the room. “You know the only woman who could affect him that way is the one who nearly destroyed him last winter. How could you bring her here?”

“Her name is Darla,” Jake growled. “I've only heard Logan mutter the name Dee. How the hell was I supposed to know?”

“You should have done more checking.”

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a pilot willing to travel to a training site? I was lucky to find someone with her qualifications and reputation. I didn't demand a personal history of her love life.”

“Maybe you should have.” Patti snatched a pitcher from the refrigerator and poured them glasses of iced tea.

In the living room, Logan and Dee continued to stare at each other. Both of them were breathing hard, having sustained an emotional blow that was more debilitating than an unex­pected physical attack.

Dee was trembling violently. Coming face to face with the only man she'd ever loved and lost would be upsetting under normal circumstances. In her situation it was unbearably painful. Anger seemed the safest outlet for emotion.

“Is this some kind of sick joke?”

Logan struggled with the need to touch her; to reach out to her in some fashion. He tightened his hands into fists and stood stock-still. He didn't want to antagonize her, but he was on the defensive.

“I was as surprised to see you as you were to see me,” he responded without emotion. “Did you actually come here with­out knowing that I own this place?”

His question triggered immediate resentment. Was he ego­tistical enough to believe she'd have come if she'd known the truth? Dee trembled with the effort to control emotions she'd kept in tight check for six months.

“If I'd had any idea you owned this place, I'll guarantee you I wouldn't have come within an inch of it.”

 She'd just recently begun to feel good about herself , to regain some self-respect and enthusiasm for the future. A place that had seemed so welcoming was rapidly becoming an emotional booby trap.

Logan's eyes devoured her, taking in every tiny detail of her appearance; the honey gold satin of her hair; the flashing bril­liance of her eyes, the womanly body that could drive him wild with need. His dreams didn't begin to compare with the reality.

He knew she didn't want to hear how much he'd missed her, so he decided engaging her in an argument would at least make her open up and keep her near while his senses feasted.

“Are you in the habit of accepting jobs without doing a background check?”

Dee bristled. “I was told that Jake Travis was in charge of hiring a pilot. Since my mother always does a thorough back­ground check, I had no reason for concern. All she told me was that the owner's family had lived here for generations, and the name of the place had something to do with bluegrass.”

“Bradford Bluegrass,” Logan supplied, fighting a savage urge to drag her into his arms and plunder her mouth with his own.

“Believe me,” she snapped. “If I'd heard the name Bradford, I would have run screaming!”

Logan had assumed that she was a charter pilot for a small firm, but he knew very little about her career. He hadn't known that she could be hired for extended periods. He hadn't thought about her working so much with men, and he didn't like the idea at all.

“You have no problem moving in with a complete stranger and working strictly with men?” The thought made him in­sanely jealous, even though he hadn't thought anything of hir­ing her himself. He wondered how often she was at the mercy of strangers.

His censorious tone infuriated Dee. He had absolutely no right to pass judgment on her. “I was assured I would be prop­erly chaperoned,” she snapped, “not that it's any of your busi­ness who I live or work with!”

“It's my business if you work for me.”

“Well, rest assured, I have no intention of working for you,” she insisted fiercely. “You can consider our association at an end from this minute forward. There's no way in hell I'd work for you.”

Her scathing dismissal fueled Logan's anger. He knew she had every right to despise him, but the loathing in her eyes and tone were still a grim shock. They'd parted in anger, yet he hadn't realized just how much she hated him.

He'd nurtured the hope that someday she'd understand and forgive him for his callous actions. That had obviously been another mistake. Her present attitude didn't leave much room for understanding and forgiveness.

Frustration heightened his self-disgust and triggered defensive anger. He had only a few seconds to decide if he wanted to send her out of his life again or find a way to keep her close while he battled his other demons.

The internal struggle was brief. There was really nothing to decide. He wanted her near him. He ached for her in a way no other woman could satisfy, so he changed tactics.

“I thought your work was all-important to you. I thought you prided yourself on your professionalism,” he reminded grimly. “Your professional manner sure won't win any awards today. I'm a prospective client, and you're being as nasty as hell.”

The blood pounded in Dee's temples at an alarming rate. Her eyes glazed with fury. She felt as though she might ex­plode. “How dare you!” she gasped, enraged.

She'd loved him to distraction, given him everything she had to give, but all he'd given her in return was a macho demand that she abandon her career to become his full-time playmate.

“How dare you criticize my professionalism? What makes you think you have a right to judge me? The only thing you ever really wanted from me was sex. No woman in her right mind would exchange a respectable career for a shaky future with the worst kind of chauvinist!”

The muscles of Logan's jaws worked furiously. His chest was tight, his breathing constricted. He wasn't a chauvinist. He'd spent months trying to correct his mistake. He hurt, too, and he wanted a chance to make it up to her. Taking a deep breath, he mustered the courage to tell her the truth, but pride kept the words lodged in his throat.

“I'm leaving,” Dee exclaimed, shaking with the effort to control her temper and her emotional upheaval. “You can tell Mr. Travis that I'm not interested in a contract. He can start looking for another instructor.”

She turned to leave the room, and Logan reached out a hand to halt her. The instant his fingers made contact with her arm, electricity leapt between them. She swiftly jerked out of his reach.

“Don't touch me!”

The rejection hit him hard. He was having a rough time dealing with his own rioting emotions, but he didn't want to let her go. Reaching out a hand again, he grasped her arm more firmly and whirled her closer to him.

Dee didn't even think, she just reacted from sheer protective instinct and the sudden terror of being too close to him. She drew back her hand and slammed it against the side of his face.

The sound of flesh slapping flesh, and the uncharacteristic violence of Dee's attack, stunned them both for an instant. The room went deadly still, the only sound was the harshness of their breathing. They glared at each other like sworn enemies.

Dee's control was near shattering. Her pride and self-respect were taking a beating. She'd never struck another human being in her life. She couldn't even bring herself to smash a bug, yet she'd slapped Logan with enough force to numb her hand and leave a welt on his face.

She knew she was dangerously close to losing all control. Her legs were shaking, and she was in danger of collapsing in a quivering heap on the floor. Instead, she turned on her heel and marched toward the front door without another word or glance at his angry, flushed features.

The violent slamming of the front door brought Jake and Patti from the kitchen. Logan was staring after their departed guest, his fingers brushing the red, hand-shaped mark on his face.

“Go after her,” he told Jake, his tone deep and rough as he fought the need to follow Dee. He couldn't risk alienating her even more. It would take a lot of time and patience to win her trust again, and he needed Jake to secure that time for him.

“Do whatever it takes. Triple her pay, promise her anything, but get her signature on that contract.”

“Logan!” Patti protested. She was one of the few people who understood her brother's intense fear of planes. She knew how hard it was for him to face his fears, and she didn't want his pain intensified by a woman who'd already caused him so much heart ache.

Jake's brows met in a frown. “Are you sure?” “I'm sure,” Logan snapped. “Whatever it takes.”

Chapter Three

Dee was fighting hard for control as she walked down the road Jake had used to bring her from the airstrip. She was trembling violently and tears welled in her eyes, but she fought back any visible sign of her shattered emotions. She concen­trated on getting back to her plane and getting home as fast as she could manage.

A low, wounded moan escaped when she heard the approach of the pickup truck behind her. She fervently prayed that Logan wasn't following her. She didn't think she could bear another confrontation with him right now.

The truck drew near and a horn tooted softly. Dee ignored the summons and dredged up reserves of control. She heard the vehicle being shifted into park and realized the driver had stopped to follow her on foot.

“Ms. Prescott.” It was Jake's voice. “Please let me drive you back to your plane.”

He laid a tentative hand on Dee's arm, and she came to a halt. Her throat was too tight to allow a response. Glancing over her shoulder, she made sure Logan was nowhere in sight, then she nodded her head in acceptance of the lift.

When they were both in the cab of the truck, Jake imme­diately put it in gear. He offered her an apology as he drove, but kept his gaze averted from her sad, shimmering eyes.

“I'm really sorry about the mix-up. I had no idea you and Logan knew each other.”

“And that we couldn't stand each other?” she managed in a shaky, strained voice.

“That either,” he added, grimacing. Jake thought Logan's opinion differed, but he didn't argue. “I want to assure you that nobody deliberately deceived you or brought you here un­der false pretenses. You have to know that Logan was as sur­prised as you were.”

Dee didn't doubt that he’d been surprised, but she was just too shaken to consider anyone else's reactions and motives.

When she didn't respond, Jake continued, “He usually takes care of all the hiring himself, but other than writing the checks, he hasn't wanted much to do with this project. We tried to hire someone from Kentucky first, but with no luck, so we started looking out of state for an instructor. He was pleased when I told him I'd found someone willing to come here, but he didn't ask for details.”

Dee recalled the argument with Logan that had destroyed their brief, passionate relationship. He'd been very blunt about his opinion of pilots. He'd wanted her to give up her career. He hadn't wanted her involved with flying in any fashion, and he'd behaved like a totally irrational jerk.

Since that time, Dee had gradually accepted the fact that his irrational behavior was simply a means to an end. Logan had wanted to put an end to their affair, so he'd chosen a method that was so unreasonable he knew she couldn't accept it.

Not many women these days were willing to give up hard-won careers to become a rich man's possession. She'd actually considered it, she'd loved him that much, but she also loved her family. They would have been so hurt.

The realization that he'd wanted an excuse to dump her was what had ultimately caused the most pain. It would have been kinder to tell her the truth; that he'd enjoyed their time together, but not enough to make a long-term commitment and com­promises. Instead, he'd left her feeling used and discarded.

“Logan still wants you to work for us,” Jake offered when the silence in the truck got too heavy. He didn't think his passenger wanted to talk, but he was running out of time.

Dee snorted at the thought of working for Logan Bradford. If he wanted anything, she doubted it was flight instruction.

“I'm dead serious, Ms. Prescott.”

“Dee,” she automatically insisted, well past the stage of for­malities.

“Dee,” Jake corrected, his tone growing heavy. “Please don't let your personal differences with Logan interfere here. I know you had a shock today, but don't write us off in haste. We're in desperate need of an instructor. You must know how hard it is to find someone who'll travel, and we've already got a quarter of a million dollars tied up in this project. If we don't get our training before winter, it could cost us another year.”

Dee tried to harden herself against his persuasive arguments. She didn't want to concern herself with his problems She was having a hard enough time coping with her own.

They pulled to a stop near the hangar and Jake turned to give her his full attention. “Give it a little time,” he coaxed. “It's really important that we start lessons this soon, and I can guarantee that you won't have to spend as much time with Logan as you will with Butch and me.”

Dee didn't like being reminded of Butch and his youthful enthusiasm. She'd always been too much of a softy, but this time she couldn't allow herself to be swayed.

Jake knew he wasn't making any headway. She didn't look very receptive to his pleas. “I don't need your signature on a contract until you've had time to consider the job, and you can alter the contract to suit yourself.”

“You need to be looking for someone else,” was her only comment as she climbed from the truck.

Jake jumped from the driver’s side and followed her across the pavement. “I promise I'll keep searching, but you know there's not much chance that I'll find anybody.”

It wasn't her problem. She wasn't committed to anything, Dee argued to herself. She'd have her mother do some looking, too, but she wouldn't let it worry her. The Bradford crew wasn't her responsibility.

“We're having a big community barbecue for the Fourth of July. Why don't you come and bring some friends,” Jake sug­gested on impulse. “Give yourself a chance to get to know everybody. Maybe you'll realize that working here wouldn't be so bad. You might even get to like us.”

Dee slowed her progress as she reached her Cessna. She turned and looked him directly in the eyes. “I don't have any­thing against you or your crew, Mr. Travis.”

“Jake.”

“Jake,” she repeated. “But I have to be honest with you. No matter how much I like you, Butch, the staff, or this prop­erty, I have no intention of working with Logan.”

“We'll double the fee you were offered.”

Dee's eyes widened. She was already being offered a gen­erous salary. Did Jake have the authority to offer anything he wanted, or had Logan believed money would sway her deci­sion?

“Money isn't the issue,” she insisted.

“We'll triple it.”

Her eyes narrowed and renewed anger washed over her. “I'm not for sale, at any price, and you can tell your boss that there are still some things money can't buy!”

When she started to turn away, Jake gently touched her arm. “I'm sorry,” he said with quiet sincerity. “I didn't mean to offend you or show any disrespect. I'm a desperate man, and we need your help. Losing a whole year will cost us more in the long run.”

Dee wanted to tell him that it wouldn't do any good to lay a guilt trip on her. She couldn't and wouldn't work with Logan Bradford.

“I'll ask my mother to do some checking for you. Maybe she'll find an instructor who can take my place.”

“What will you tell her?” he asked. “If anyone learns that you rejected the position, then they're going to be curious as to why.”

Dee closed her eyes and stifled a moan. She hadn't thought about that. How was she going to explain this to her mother? Her parents didn't know anything about Logan, and her sisters knew very little.

She did a thorough check of the plane. It was automatic for her to explain the process as she moved around the Cessna, and Jake's attention was diverted as he followed her, asking questions.

The subject of employment was dropped, but Dee had to think about it again when she was alone in the cockpit. How could she explain her rejection of the contract without telling the whole truth, or flat-out lying?

The question plagued her all the way home. The trip didn't take long enough for her to formulate a reasonable excuse for not taking the assignment, and she really didn't want to discuss her personal feelings on the subject.

Belle had assumed that her stop in Kentucky would be a simple matter of introductions. What would she think when Dee rejected the assignment? She was still too shaken to dis­cuss the subject rationally, so she decided to tell her mother that she had some reservations.

No. That wouldn't work. If Belle was going to be asked to find a replacement, then she'd have to know the truth. Dee hated being put in such a difficult position. She was damned if she did, and damned if she didn't. It was a no-win situation.

And of course, both her sisters would have to be in the office when she arrived home. She entered the reception area and gave her eyes a few seconds to adjust to the change from sunlight to interior lighting.

Then she glanced from Sharla to Carlie. She could tell by their expressions that they immediately picked up on the emo­tional distress radiating from her. Sometimes she felt like a walking radar station.

“What's up?” Carlie asked, not even bothering with a hello.

“Where's Mother?” asked Dee.

“She and Daddy are going out to dinner, so she left early. We're minding the store.”

“Did you run into trouble in Kentucky?” asked Sharla.

“What I ran into in Kentucky was Logan Bradford,” Dee explained in a curt tone. She slapped her flight pad down on the reception desk and busied herself with work, but she could feel the waves of concern emanating from her sisters.

Sharla and Carlie exchanged frowns. They knew very little about the man in question, only that he'd hurt Dee. Sharla had met him briefly, and personally thought he was hurting, too, but Dee had refused to discuss him with her.

“Where did you run into him?” asked Carlie.

“He's one of the B's that goes with the Circle B's,” Dee explained. “I didn't realize it until Jake Travis took me to meet his boss.”

“Did he know you were the pilot his foreman had hired?”

“Apparently not. Jake said he didn't want anything to do with the hiring, so I was a big surprise for him, too.”

Dee still hadn't turned from the desk to look at them. It was a bad sign, and meant that she wasn't coping with the shock too well. She couldn't hide her reaction completely, but her sisters knew she was trying to minimize the affect it had on her.

Carlie moved close and laid a comforting hand on her sis­ter's back. Feeling Dee's stiffness, she began to rub her shoul­ders. They all knew how sensitive Dee was, and how much she hated confrontational scenes.

“Was it really unpleasant?”

Dee sighed deeply and tried to relax. Until Carlie had touched her, she hadn't realized that her muscles were still knotted with tension.

“It was the pits.”

“How did Logan react?”

Dee had only to close her eyes to bring a vivid picture of him to mind. She didn't want to remember the way his eyes had flared with pleasure or the sound of her name on his lips.

She didn't want to think about how utterly gorgeous he was or how her heart had raced at the sight of him. He was poison, and she couldn't allow herself to forget past mistakes. She wouldn't survive another such mistake.

 “You'd have thought we were old friends, and that we'd parted on friendly terms, that miserable rat.” For all she knew he might have a love 'em and leave 'em attitude toward all the women he met.

“He had the nerve to berate me for being willing to live and work with strangers,” Dee added in disgust. “And then he suggested I was being unprofessional by refusing to work for him!”

She turned and looked at her sisters. “I might have behaved in an unprofessional manner, but not without provocation. Just being near Logan Bradford is enough to provoke violence!”

Sharla and Carlies’ eyes widened in surprise. Dee rarely raised her voice in anger. She had plenty of spirit, but it took a gross injustice to rile her.

Sharla's tone was tentative. “You weren't provoked to vio­lence, were you?”

Dee blushed and glanced at her right hand. She could still feel the stinging heat of her flesh against Logan's.

“You didn't actually punch him, did you?” Carlie asked in amazement. The idea was inconceivable.

Dee's expression was a mixture of satisfaction and guilt. “I guess that was a little unprofessional, but he had it coming.” Maybe he hadn't deserved it today, but he'd touched her, and that had triggered her desire to strike out against him. It was a need she'd harbored too long.

Sharla needed the words. “You actually hit him?”

“Yes, I hit him,” snapped Dee.

Her sisters exchanged stunned glances. It was nearly impos­sible to imagine Dee physically assaulting someone, especially a man who had to be twice her size.

Carlie decided they all needed a stiff jolt of caffeine. The office was comfortably furnished and had a small bar stocked with beverages for the family and customers. She went to the refrigerator and got colas for she and her sisters.

“It sounds to me like you still have some strong feelings for the man,” she declared.

“You're absolutely right,” said Dee. “I hate him.”

Her sisters got their second big shock of the afternoon and nearly choked on their drinks. Hate was a word that Belle had always forbid in their home. Her daughters were allowed to despise bullies or have an intense dislike of spinach, but the word hate had never been tolerated.

“You hate him as in wishing he were dead?” asked Sharla.

That was the criteria their mother always used for the black emotion called hate.

Dee frowned and dropped her eyes to her drink. She'd never wished anyone dead. Even though she couldn't stand Logan, she couldn't honestly say she wanted him dead. What she wanted was to see him suffer the way she had.

“Will you tell us what happened between the two of you?” Carlie asked as she sat down in an easy chair.

Sharla stretched out on a matching sofa. “Maybe if we know the whole story, we can understand how you feel.”

A wave of depression swept over Dee as she allowed herself to think about the time she'd spent with Logan. There was no way she could tell her sisters the whole story, she was too ashamed, but she needed to talk about her relationship with Logan.

“We met during the Christmas holiday, when I went to Flor­ida for a week,” she said, pacing the room.

“And you fell head over heels in love,'“ Sharla suggested softly.

Dee's expression was pained, but she nodded in agreement. “We were so wrapped up in each other that we didn't bother to discuss the more mundane aspects of our lives.” Warmth radiated through her at the memory of such long days and nights of loving. She'd never known a time so filled with sen­sual exploration and pleasure.

“When our vacations were over, Logan asked me to marry him. He said he couldn't bear the thought of being parted for any length of time, and he thought I should just fly back to Kentucky with him.”

“He must have been serious if he wanted to marry you and take you home with him.”

“I don't think he really wanted to marry me, he just wanted me to live with him a while. He changed his tune when he learned I was a pilot. You'd have thought I confessed to being a hooker. He was stunned, and insisted that I would have to give up flying. No wife of his was going to be risking her life day in and day out,” Dee mimicked Logan's exact words. They were forever engraved in her mind.

“He refused to accept the fact that I had obligations to my family, and that I wasn't willing to give up my career for him. He was totally irrational, saying he had plenty of money to 'take care of me.' I was furious.”

“That's understandable,” said Sharla, “but it sounds like the two of you parted ways without resolving anything.”

“What's to resolve?” growled Dee. “He was just using my career as an excuse to dump me. I provided entertainment for his vacation, and if I didn't want to continue to entertain him on his own terms, then he wasn't interested.”

Carlie and Sharla exchanged glances again, their eyes filled with questions. Dee seemed to be describing two different men. They knew she wouldn't have fallen hopelessly in love with the man she was trying to dismiss as a worthless cad. She was much too good a judge of character.

“Maybe he's never been in love before,” Sharla suggested, thinking of how hard Reed had fought falling in love. “Maybe he was afraid of losing you and reacted badly. You didn't really have enough time to work out a compromise.”

“Are you suggesting that I don't know what I'm talking about? That he might have really wanted me for a wife, not just a playmate? You're wrong, so don't try to defend his actions.”

“You know Sharla always has to play the devil's advocate,” reminded Carlie, trying to calm her. She didn't like to see Dee so agitated.

“Nobody's defending Bradford. He hurt you, and that's enough reason to want him tarred and feathered, but you might be doing yourself an injustice by believing that you loved him more than he loved you.”

“I did,” Dee could be very stubborn.

“Maybe he has some macho hang-up about a woman having to prove her love by following her man anywhere,” suggested Sharla. “Or maybe he's one of those men who thinks he has to be the sole supporter.”

“Bullshit.”

Sharla and Carlie gasped in feigned shock and then grinned.

“That's what you call a combination four-letter word,” Carlie teased. “And you've already used one other bad word this af­ternoon. I hope Mama Belle doesn't have this office bugged.”

The teasing brought a smile to Dee's face, but her eyes re­mained sad. “I don't know how I'm going to explain this all to her. I promised Jake I'd have Mother help him find another instructor, but I don't really want to discuss it with her.”

“Did you rip the contract to shreds, or anything?” Carlie asked.

“No. I never actually saw a contract, but it doesn't matter. I don't intend to work with Logan.”

“What did you think of his house and his staff?”

Dee sighed heavily. “I really liked Jake and Butch. They're the other two men who want the training. They were friendly and enthusiastic. I also met Logan's sister, Patti. I didn't even know he had a sister.”

“What about the Circle B's?”

Another sigh escaped Dee. “It was absolutely gorgeous. It smelled of honeysuckle, and it felt so good.”

The wistfulness in her voice didn't surprise her sisters, nor did her description of feeling the property. Dee always reacted to locations and situations with all her senses. She felt things as much as she saw them.

“It's a shame you have to give up,” said Sharla. “Is there any way you can resolve your differences with Logan?”

Dee's eyes flared. “I don't even want to try!”

The next question was more hesitant. “Are you still in love with him?”

“No!” Dee knew her protest was too swift and too defen­sive, but she couldn't help her gut reaction. Any leftover feel­ings she had for the man were negative.

Sharla had her doubts, but she made a suggestion. “Maybe you should take the assignment. If the two of you have to work together, you'll get a chance to put the past behind you. Then you can put him out of your life.”

“Sharla may be right,” injected Carlie. “You need to put Bradford out of your life. The best way to do that is to meet him on his own turf and see how the two of you get along on a normal basis.”

Dee was shaking her head in vigorous rejection of their theories. She didn't want to admit just how much seeing Logan had shaken her, and she didn't think the two of them could work in harmony. Old lovers might make the best of friends in some cases, but not this one.

“I have no desire to work things out with Logan. I don't want to be anywhere near him.”

“If you really don't love him anymore, then why aren't you willing to forgive him?” asked Carlie. She couldn't remember Dee ever carrying a grudge.

“It seems like that kind of hate can only do you harm,” she added. “Remember what you told me when I divorced Bill? You told me to vent my anger and then put the negative feel­ings behind me. You were right, and it worked for me.”

“If you're not sure how you feel about him, wouldn't it be better to find out?” Sharla suggested tentatively. “You can't hide from yourself, Dee. You loved Bradford, and he hurt you. You won't be happy until you've confronted the conflicting emotions and resolved them. One way or the other.”

Dee was shaking her head again. They didn't understand, and she couldn't explain without telling them the secret she'd promised herself not to tell. Being near Logan could only cause more heartache. She might not love him, but she still had strong feelings about the way their relationship had ended.

“It just wouldn't work. If you'd been there today, you'd un­derstand. The two of us can't be in the same room without tempers flaring. It's asking for trouble.”

Sharla and Carlie were quiet for a while as they considered Dee's response. “Maybe you're right,” Carlie conceded. “Maybe it's better to just forget the man, his home, and his need for a flight instructor.”

Sharla nodded in agreement. “Some things are better for­gotten, I guess. Especially if you've seen him, and you know that you're completely over him.”

The ringing of the telephone prevented Dee from respond­ing. She was closest to the desk, but she ignored the summons. Sharla finally rose from the sofa and answered.

“Prescott Air Service.”

“Mrs. Prescott?” asked a deep male voice.

“I'm sorry, she's gone for the day. This is Sharla. How may I help you?”

“This is Logan Bradford.”

“Yes, Mr. Bradford?” Sharla spoke his name aloud so that her sisters would know to whom she was speaking. They both turned their attention to the conversation.

“Dee was upset when she left my house today. I wanted to make sure she got home all right.”

“She's fine, Mr. Bradford. Dee's a professional pilot. She's trained to fly well even when she's having a bad day.”

There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line.

“When she left,” he finally continued, “she said she wouldn't work for me, but the offer's still open. I hope she'll take some time before making a final decision. Did she mention our Fourth of July barbecue?”

Sharla's gaze shot to Dee. The fourth was only a few days away. “No, she didn't.”

“I'd like her to come. It wouldn't commit her to anything, just give her a chance to get better acquainted.”

Sharla didn't think it was likely, not in Dee's present state of mind. “I'll mention it to her.”

Her tone wasn't encouraging, and Logan's voice deepened. “I wanted to come after her today, but I knew she'd had a shock and needed time. If she doesn't come to Kentucky on the fourth, I'll be there on the fifth.”

Sharla made a face, but her tone remained professionally polite. “That sounds like a threat, Mr. Bradford.”

“It's a promise, Ms. Prescott.”

She didn't doubt that he would keep his promise. “I'll pass along your message. Thank you for calling.”

Sharla hung up the phone and looked at Dee. “Bradford said you were invited to a barbecue on the fourth. He says if you don't come to Kentucky, he's coming here.”

Dee visibly paled. “Why?”

“He didn't explain. Unfinished business, I guess.”

“Damn! Damn! Damn!” exclaimed Dee with unusual feroc­ity. “I don't want him anywhere near here.”

“If he was so interested in seeing you again, why did he wait until now?” asked Carlie.

Dee knew she owed her sisters an explanation. Their concern was genuine. They were always supportive and ready to defend her. “I didn't tell him where I lived when I left Florida. He eventually had me traced and called, but I told him I was seeing another man, and that he'd be in the way.”

“Whoa! Major ego buster,” said Sharla.

“It was either that or a restraining order, and I didn't want to involve the police.”

“He didn't hurt you, did he?” asked Carlie, obviously shaken by the thought.

Dee's face softened with compassion. Carlie's husband had been a bastard, and he hadn't been above hitting his wife. “Logan never resorted to physical violence. He was furious, but I'm not afraid of him.”

“Only of the way you feel about him,” Sharla surmised.

Dee's expression was tight. She honestly didn't know how she felt about Logan, except for the ongoing anger and resent­ment. She'd thought she'd put him out of her heart and mind forever. After today's confrontation, she knew she hadn't been totally successful.

“Do you and Reed have plans for the holiday?” Carlie asked Sharla.

“He has to be out of state.”

“Then why don't the three of us go to a barbecue? I'll admit I'm curious about this guy. We can check him out, lend Dee some moral support, and help her shake off any lingering con­fusion over Logan Bradford.”

Her suggestion hung heavily in the room for a few minutes. Then Sharla spoke. “Dee?”

She looked from sister to sister. They were the best; always her champions, always fiercely protective. Sharla was older by mere minutes, but she loved playing the role of big sister. Carlie thought she was tough and was always ready to fight her sisters' battles.

Dee normally depended on her own serenity to keep them in balance, but not where Logan was concerned. This time she welcomed their interference, yet she had some serious doubts about the wisdom of the decision she made with an affirmative nod of her head.

Chapter Four

They flew to Kentucky on July fourth. The barbecue was scheduled to begin at four, so they were circling the Circle B's airstrip at half past that hour. They planned to arrive after most of the guests were assembled, so that their host would be occupied with hosting duties.

Sharla was flying her Saratoga. Like many experienced car drivers, she couldn't stand to sit in the passenger seat and allow someone else to handle the controls. She always pi­loted when the sisters traveled together. Dee and Carlie didn't mind humoring her. She was the best.

“Ooohhh...” Sharla enthused as she brought the plane in for an incredibly soft landing. “Brand new asphalt.”

“Everything's new,” said Dee.

“They didn't even buy a used plane?”

“Ordered it special.”

“Dam, I wish I had instructor certification.”

“I wish you did, too,” said Dee. She couldn't help feeling guilty about leaving Jake and Butch in a spot. It wasn't her responsibility to train them. She had every right to refuse the assignment, yet she'd agonized over the decision for days. She didn't want the job, but she wished she knew someone who did.

There was one helicopter and another small plane at the end of the runway near the hangar, so they knew more of Brad­ford's guests had arrived by air. That meant it was a pretty big party. The base operator had informed them that they'd be met and driven to the house.

Butch Troyer was helping transport guests, so he was close at hand when the unfamiliar plane landed. The boss hadn't been expecting anyone else by air unless the Prescott pilot decided to come. When the plane came to a stop, he saw the Prescott Air Service logo and grinned widely.

Within a few minutes, his eyes had widened and his mouth dropped open in disbelief. Not one, not two, but three beautiful women stepped from the plane. And they all looked just alike; breathtaking, confident, and chic.

They had to be sisters, maybe triplets. They were so much alike he couldn't tell which one he'd already met. None of them had her long braid. Their hair was all twisted in little knots on top of their heads, and they were dressed the same.

“We're going to roast in these jeans,” Carlie grumbled as she and her sisters left the air-conditioned comfort of the cock­pit for the shimmering afternoon heat.

“These jeans were the best we could do without a special shopping trip,” put in Sharla. They'd decided to wear matching white jeans that hugged their hips and tapered down long, shapely legs to end just above their ankles.

When they'd been younger, their mother had delighted in dressing them in matching outfits. The sisters rarely dressed alike these days unless they deliberately set out to cause a sensation, as they had today.

They'd paired the jeans with short-sleeved silk blouses in the same button-front, tailored style, but in different colors. Carlie wore red because it was her favorite color. Sharla wore dark purple, and Dee wore a deep turquoise that enhanced the brilliance of her eyes. Their blouses were a sharp contrast to the spotless white of their pants, and white hurache sandals completed the outfits.

Butch's eyes were still rounded and his mouth was hanging open as they approached him. It had been a long time since the Prescott triplets had attempted to stun people with their looks, so his expression was evidence of their success.

“I guess we haven't lost our touch,” Carlie murmured.

“We'll knock ‘em dead,” Sharla assured. “And if we don't take an immediate liking to anyone, we won't even bother to tell them who's who.”

Dee appreciated the thought, but knew it wasn't likely. As far as she could tell, everyone who lived and worked at Brad­ford Bluegrass was likable and friendly. Since Carlie and Sharla didn't have a snobbish bone in their bodies, they'd prob­ably feel right at home in no time.

She wasn't feeling quite so confident, despite their support. She'd agree to come because she'd really wanted another chance to visit, but she'd hoped that having her sisters with her would make her feel less vulnerable. Now she wasn't so sure the old method would work.

“Ms. Prescott?” Butch attempted when he'd regained his composure and approached the women.

All three of them nodded in response to the appellation, and he turned a dull red. Dee instantly took pity on him, attempting to put him at ease.

“These are my sisters. Butch,” she said, identifying herself to him. “This is Sharla.” She motioned to her left, and then to her right. “And this is Carlie.” It was her habit to stand in the middle.

“Butch is a trainer here, and he wants to become a pilot,” she explained.

Both her sisters offered their hands, and Butch shook them briefly. He was sure the one in purple had been in the pilot's seat. “But that means Sharla was flying the plane,” he said, still confused.

“We're all pilots,” explained Carlie. “We just have different specialties and different planes.”

“Carlie actually does the kind of cargo hauling you want to do,” Sharla told him, “but she isn't certified as an instructor. Dee does the training, and I usually handle the charters, but we can all pilot a variety of planes.”

Now the young man really was in awe. “Wow!” was the only response he could manage.

“Feel free to check out Sharla's Saratoga if you want,” Dee said, knowing how much he'd enjoyed looking at her plane. “It's a lot different from the Cessna.”

Butch shot an admiring glance at the airplane. “You're sure you wouldn't mind?” He sounded as though they'd offered him a special treat, and his enthusiasm brought smiles to their faces. Sharla and Carlie realized why Dee had taken an im­mediate liking to him.

“Sharla treats that plane like a baby,” Carlie told him. “But she doesn't mind someone else admiring it.”

“I'll be real careful,” he promised.

“We trust you,” said Dee.

“Are you our escort to the party?” Sharla gently reminded him that they were waiting for a ride to the barbecue.

Butch blushed again, stammered an apology for keeping them waiting in the sun, then lead them to the car he was driving. He'd thoughtfully left it running with the air condi­tioner cooling the luxurious interior.

“This is the boss's car,” he explained. “We didn't want to pick up guests in a truck, and Patti's car is too small, so we're using this one. It's three years old, but it's like new 'cause it mostly sits in the garage. The boss drives his truck most of the time.”

Dee sat in the front with Butch. The car's interior was leather, and the scent enveloped her as she sank into the plush bucket seat. She didn't want to enjoy anything that belonged to Logan, but it was difficult not to like his car.

“Doesn't your boss have a special lady in his life?” Carlie asked with poorly disguised curiosity. “I'd think he'd use his car for dates.”

Butch shot a glance at Dee, and the slight action told her that her relationship with Logan wasn't a secret anymore. She wondered just what he'd told his family and staff. Details of their disastrous affair had probably created a wealth of gossip here in his domain.

“Logan doesn't date much,” Butch finally responded. He didn't elaborate, and his hesitancy spoke of his loyalty to his boss.

“Are there a lot of guests today?” Sharla asked. “I noticed a couple other aircraft.”

“Nearly a hundred,” he told them. “They're mostly neighbors and friends of the family, but a few customers flew in for the weekend. It's a good time to look at this year's crop of foals.”

“We've been thinking about buying some riding horses for our place in Virginia,” said Carlie.

She didn't add that the idea had been put on hold since Dee's last visit, but the comment put Butch at ease. He described some of the livestock they might want to look at. The short trip to the house was made without any farther dis­cussion of Logan, which pleased Dee.

She was feeling more nervous by the minute. Her palms were sweating and her stomach was rolling. Her pulse hadn't regulated since landing on his property, and the closer they got to the house, the worse she felt.

She'd hoped that facing him again would be easier, espe­cially since Sharla and Carlie had accompanied her. Now she wasn't so sure. Any meeting had to be better than their disastrous accidental meeting, she supposed, but she was still sick with apprehension.

The pain, anger, and guilt had to be put behind her. She'd learned that she wasn't the type of person who could live with that kind of emotional baggage, yet now she was wondering at the wisdom of confronting Logan on his own territory. If it hadn't been for her parents, she'd have made him come to her if he wanted to talk.

“I see what you mean about this place,” Sharla commented as they traveled the tree-lined road that lead to the house. “It's really lovely.”

“Now I understand your original assessment,” Carlie added.

The Bradford Bluegrass farm had the kind of tranquil beauty that Dee normally found soothing. Under different circumstances, she'd have loved to spend time exploring the property. Regardless of her qualms about being here, the place touched her in a strangely appealing fashion. She allowed herself a pang of remorse for what could never be.

Logan was standing on the front porch as his car came into view. He'd received a call that three women had landed a small plane, and he'd known that Dee had come. His elation was tempered with dread. He'd promised himself to be totally civ­ilized. What he felt was impatient and primitive.

He wanted Dee desperately, wanted her near him, regardless of the private doubts and fears he still needed to conquer. He had to find a way to regain her respect, and he couldn't do that if she refused to spend time with him.

Despite the fact that Logan had a photograph of the triplets, and he knew how much alike they looked, it was still discon­certing to see them climb from his car. He descended the porch steps as they approached, presenting a united front that was easily recognizable as a defense against him.

Even though Sharla had run into Logan on one occasion, seeing him in his own environment was different. Carlie was no less impressed, and Dee felt her sisters' immediate reaction to his sheer male magnetism. No woman could be totally im­mune to the man.

He was half a foot taller than the triplets with a breadth of shoulders that would nearly double their width. Heavily mus­cled arms were dusted with golden hair and left bare by his short-sleeved navy dress shirt. He had thick, pale blond hair that was cut military short. His blue-gray eyes were sharply piercing, but carefully guarded, giving the appearance of a man suppressing incredible power and energy.

His gaze quickly shifted from one of them to the other, then focused on Dee. The green of her blouse deepened the color of her eyes. She was easily identifiable by the sparkle of ani­mosity in her gaze. Still, the sight of her made his blood run hot. Heat rocked through him, but he fought down his natural responses.

“I'm glad you came,” he said, his voice sandpaper rough, yet incredibly seductive.

“Your invitation was too delightful to refuse,” she chal­lenged lightly.

Logan's full lips thinned. He doubted that his threat was her only reason for coming, but he didn't care. After another minute of intently scouring Dee's features, he glanced at her companions.

“Sharla.” She introduced herself and held out a hand to him. “We met briefly at the Lexington airport.”

Logan's lips curved rakishly at the reminder. He'd forced himself to go to the airport in an effort to get used to the idea of being around planes again. When he'd run into Sharla, he'd mistaken her for Dee, and demanded a kiss. She'd accepted his demand without thinking him a pervert.

“I remember,” he said. His eyes glittered, and his grin was potent. “You took pity on me.”

“Excuse me if I don't think you're the least bit pathetic,” she teased, trying to lighten the heavy tension that seemed to have paralyzed Dee.

When her sister didn't make any at­tempt at introductions, she added, “This is Carlie. She's the baby of the family.”

Logan released Sharla's hand and reached for Carlie's. Her eyes weren't nearly as friendly as Sharla's, and he knew she was prepared to dislike him. He had a gut feeling that this sister wasn't too fond of men in general or him in particular.

“Carlie,” he greeted. His gaze locked with hers in honest, open appraisal. He didn't try to impress her with flattery or social graces.

“I'm only the baby by a few unfortunate minutes,” she ex­plained, responding more to his commanding presence than she would have to flowery compliments. “But my sisters never let me forget those minutes.”

The disgust in her tone won another of Logan's brief grins, and Dee's heart did a little somersault in her chest. There was no doubt he was a charmer. It wasn't an overt, practiced charm, but rather an inherent masculine appeal that flattered any woman he chose to honor with his attention.

She felt almost envious until he turned his gaze back to her. Something flickered in his silvery eyes that made her heart pound in alarm. She warned herself not to relax her guard.

Logan resented the fact that he had to take his new guests to join the rest of the party. He wanted time to get to know Dee's sisters, and he wanted time alone with her. But he knew he had to be on his best behavior, even if it killed him.

Jake and Patti were in the living room when he ushered the triplets into the house. They both stared in amazement, but their reaction wasn't unusual or offensive.

“Damn!” said Jake.

Patti recovered first. “Watch your language, Travis,” she scolded good-naturedly.

“You'll have our guests thinking we're a bunch of heathens.”

“Sorry.” He apologized, but didn't sound the least bit re­pentant. “Which one of you is Dee?”

Sharla and Carlie each pointed a finger at her, and Dee gave him a brief smile. Jake had been kind on her last visit. She didn't have any reason to be rude or defensive with him. She actually felt like they were old friends.

“Hi, Jake. Any luck finding a new instructor?” she asked, deliberately bringing up the sensitive subject.

“Nope,” he replied. Logan had ordered him not to even try. “Is there any chance you'll reconsider?”

“Nope.”

“Damn,” he said again, earning himself a silent reprimand from Patti.

Logan interrupted the exchange to introduce everyone, and then shepherded them all toward the backyard where dinner was being served, picnic style. The late arrivals caused quite a stir, and more introductions were necessary, but the furor soon settled and everyone filled plates to eat.

Sharla and Carlie stayed close to Dee, and she was thankful for their support. Logan was kept busy with the duties of host, but she could feel his eyes following her everywhere. Although she filled her plate with delicious-smelling food, she couldn't eat. Her nerves were raw, and she was being bombarded with a variety of sensual reactions from everyone in attendance.

As usual, whenever she found herself in a crowd, she was nearly overwhelmed by the avalanche of sensations. She felt waves of curiosity from Logan's quests. There was open admi­ration, a lot of speculation, a little envy, and a lot of curiosity, but no real hostility. Still the sensations were unnerving in such abundance.

She knew a few people were dissecting her and her sisters, wondering if their hair was naturally blond and if they were on the prowl for men. A few men, young and old, single and married, were wondering if they slept around. That didn't bother her, either.

Those were normal responses, and they weren't alarming.

After a while, she began to relax a little and was able to ignore the jumble of perceived sensations. Overall, the Prescotts' reception at the barbecue was congenial.

The next few hours passed without incident. It was only Logan's continued attention that bothered Dee. No matter where he was or what he was doing, she could feel the strong vibrations from his presence. His gaze found her wherever she moved.

He might be biding his time, but she knew he was deter­mined to confront her about their failed relationship. Dee sensed it, accepted it, but dreaded it. She wasn't anxious to dredge up all the hurt and humiliation, yet she needed to air her grievances and put the whole affair behind her. Then maybe she could get on with her life.

As the afternoon slipped into evening, everyone finished eating. Logan and his staff moved tables and cleared a space on the patio for dancing. Japanese lanterns were lit and a three-piece band set up equipment. The air was quickly filled with popular selections of country and western music.

Sharla and Carlie were immediately tapping their toes, but Dee panicked at the thought of Logan asking her to dance. She didn't want to be in his arms. Neither did she want to make a scene, so she decided to go indoors and search for the ladies' room.

The sound of laughter and music was muted as she entered the house. The sun was fading, and Dee welcomed the cool shadows of the big house. She was happy that the bathroom was unoccupied, and that no one saw her as she continued to move from room to room, acquainting herself with the welcoming feel of the Bradford family home.

The kitchen was as big and open as the living room. There was a formal dining room that didn't appear to get much use. She guessed that the next room she entered was a family room because it had a more lived-in appearance with a wide-screen television and an enormous entertainment center.

The last room she entered was opposite the living room and on the left side of the front entry hall. As soon as she stepped through the doorway, she knew it was Logan's room; a com­bination office and library that held his scent.

The light was dim, but she could see a large desk piled with papers. Bookcases lined one wall and an open fireplace took up most of another. Despite the tingling awareness of being in his private office, Dee was compelled to step further into the room.

Pale moonlight was filtering through floor-length curtains behind the desk, and she moved closer. Behind the curtains were French doors that led to the side yard and a small pool. She slid one of the doors open and music from the backyard poured into the room along with the scent of honeysuckle on a cool breeze.

She breathed deeply, feeling strangely comfortable for the first time since their plane had touched down on Bradford prop­erty. She didn't care to analyze the sudden contentment that settled over her, she simply relaxed and enjoyed the solitude.

The soft strains of one slow, sultry ballad after another lulled Dee's senses as she gazed at the stars collecting around the moon in a velvet sky. A heavy sigh escaped her.

Crowds unnerved her more these days than they had when she was younger. Her extrasensory perception was growing stronger with each passing year, and sometimes the strain of it was nearly suffocating. There was little she could do but seek the solace of solitude.

Her family was understanding and supportive. She was lucky in that respect, but sometimes she yearned for someone special to share her problems; her ups and downs, her hopes and dreams. She envied the love Sharla had found with Reed.

She wanted the same type of commitment, yet Logan had destroyed her hopes of finding a mate she could trust without reservation. He'd captured, then crushed her heart, and she no longer had faith in a happily-ever-after for herself.

For the last six months, she'd been in an emotional vacuum, a highly charged state of limbo. Memories of him had haunted her, preventing her from looking for­ward to the future.

Accompanying her thoughts of Logan, Dee felt a chill run up her spine. The fine hairs on the back of her neck tingled, and she knew he was close. She turned and saw him silhouetted in the doorway opposite her.

He didn't say anything in the way of greeting. He shut the door behind him and slowly walked to his desk, his gaze never leaving her. Then he snapped on a small lamp that rearranged the shadows of the room.

Dee fought off the panic that threatened to overwhelm her. It seemed an eternity since they'd been together. During their brief, but passionate affair, they'd never been alone without wanting to touch each other in some fashion.

He was a virile, sensual man with a seemingly insatiable appetite for tasting, touching, and loving. He'd spent hours stroking her hair, caressing every inch of her skin, and making love to her until she'd been mindless with pleasure. They hadn't been able to touch enough, get close enough, or sate the desire that raged between them.

Scalding, achingly familiar heat raced through her veins, making her limbs heavy and her pulse pound in her ears. There was no denying that he was still devastating to her senses, but she was determined to resist what she knew was nothing more than carnal magnetism.

Small talk seemed ridiculous, so Dee didn't attempt to break the heavy silence that pulsed between them. Being alone with him was enough of a strain on her frayed nerves.

Logan was remembering the same long hours of sensual exploration, of sweet, slow loving and fast, frenzied mating. He ached, unbearably and continuously, with needs that were too long unfulfilled and that no other woman could satisfy.

His body was swiftly, painfully aroused at the sight of Dee. Just being alone with her brought him to an urgent, throbbing state of arousal, yet he knew she wasn't interested in his needs. She hated him. He wasn't sure how to overcome past mistakes, but he knew he had to try. He couldn't let her walk out of his life again. He didn't think he would survive.

His only hope for salvaging their relationship was that she seemed to hate as passionately as she had loved. If he could still spark such violent emotion, then maybe there was a chance to rectify the mistakes he'd made.

Long, tension-filled seconds passed in silence. Then another few minutes passed as they stared at each other. Silvery blue eyes were locked with glittering green ones. Neither pair seemed capable of breaking the contact. Logan gradually moved closer until he was within inches of her, and she forced herself to face him without flinching.

“I've missed you,” he finally confessed in a barely audible tone.

The gruff admission shivered over Dee like a caress. If her back hadn't already been pressed tightly against the door, she'd have retreated more.

She wished she could tell him that she hadn't missed him, but it wouldn't be completely true. She'd missed the closeness they'd shared, the immediate, soul-satisfying rapport they'd de­veloped, and the incredible loving. She also missed the dreams he'd shattered. She found herself pining for the joy of life he'd stolen from her, that she hadn't found a way to reclaim.

“You're the one who put an end to what we had,” she re­minded him in a carefully measured tone.

“I was a fool.”

Dee's heart stopped, then raced madly. She didn't appreciate her body's violent response to his growled statement. She didn't want to believe him, didn't dare trust him. She couldn't even trust her own instincts where he was concerned. For all she knew, he might be playing her for a fool so that he could seduce her again. She refused to be a plaything that he accepted or rejected on a whim.

“You were a fool,” she agreed after a few more seconds of strained silence.

She wasn't going to make it easy for him. Logan's eyes roved over her lovely features. Her expression was tight and filled with simmering anger. He knew she had every right to an apology and explanation, but the words were still hard for him. He'd never been good at begging.

“Can you forgive me?”

“Never.”

The retort was swift and as sharp as a dagger to his heart. He forgot his pride and struggled to understand why she was still so furious and unforgiving. He'd never physically abused her, and he was sorry for hurting her feelings with his callous demand that she choose between her career and marriage. He was more than willing to make it up to her if she'd give him half a chance.

“How can you be so quick to deny what's between us?” he demanded in frustration. “You might tell me you hate me until hell freezes over, but the attraction is still so strong that I'm shaking with it.”

Dee wanted to put her hands over her ears and shut out his evocative declaration, but she didn't want him to realize how vulnerable she was. When she found her voice, it was high and sharp.

“That's your problem, not mine.”

Logan's eyes flared with anger, then determination. He took a half-step closer and slid a hand inside the collar of her blouse to the soft curve of her neck. “Is it just my problem, Dee?” he taunted. “Is that why your pulse is so frantic? I know you're not afraid of me. You can keep stoking your anger forever, but you can't deny wanting me as much as I want you. That much hasn't changed.”

She forced herself to remain stiff and unresponsive to his touch, even though her insides were quivering like jelly. The feel of his warm, callused hand and caressing fingers ignited smoldering embers of fire in her. She didn't welcome the heady rush of desire.

“I can't deny the body chemistry,” she whispered through still lips. “But I can guarantee you that my heart and soul are a lot less forgiving.”

Logan's body clenched with anger. The muscles knotted in his arms, but his touch was gentle as he used his thumb to tilt her face to his. He seared her with molten eyes. His voice was low and gruff.

“Then I guess I'll have to be satisfied with just the body,” he whispered as his mouth descended to hers, capturing her quick rush of shocked breath.

Chapter Five

Dee was so stunned by the feel of his hard, hot lips that she momentarily froze. A furious protest rose in her throat. She lifted both hands to his chest to shove him away, but Logan wasn't an easy man to push. The hard muscles under her hands flexed, but didn't give. Then he stepped closer, crushing her hands between their bodies.

He was an inferno of heat that threatened to engulf her. Dee shuddered, digging her fingernails into the soft cotton of his shirt. She tried to shift her head, but he moved a hand to her nape. He held her still with a gentle, but firm grip. Then his other arm slipped around her waist, pulling her so tightly against him that she could feel every hard angle of his big body.

She gasped at the blanketing contact, and Logan's tongue moved into her mouth in a deep, searching foray that stole what was left of her breath. Her chest heaved in protest, but she was sinking in a quicksand of emotion.

She'd forgotten how big and hard and hot he was. She'd forced herself to forget how incredible it felt to be pressed against his solid length. She'd tried not to remember the deli­cious taste of him, of how ravenous his mouth always was and how his hot, searching tongue always reduced her to a quiv­ering mass of need.

Dee was so brittle with tension that she feared she'd shatter into a million pieces. She remained unresponsive, but she gradually stopped fighting him. It had been so long, and his unmistakable hunger was an insidious threat to her control. His heart thudded riotously against her palms. His muscles were coiled with tension, his arousal turgid.

He was holding her firmly, but as though she were utterly precious to him. His mouth was alternately urgent, then coaxing.

His tongue was warm and wet and seeking. She was melt­ing, inch by trembling inch.

Logan could hear the blood pounding in his head. His whole body was clenched with desire. He was hot and aching and needy. Months of celibacy and erotic, torturous dreams had made him nearly insane with hunger for this woman. The taste and feel of her inflamed him beyond reason. He wanted her desperately, but he wanted her to want him just as much.

He knew the instant she stopped fighting him. He knew she wasn't frightened of him, and he pressed his advantage by mut­tering his need against her lips while sucking in a ragged breath.

“Kiss me, Dee. Put your arms around me and hold me.”

His voice shook with the force of his desire, and Dee quivered in his arms. She couldn't fight him anymore, but she was wag­ing a savage battle with herself. He was offering heaven and hell. She'd be the worst kind of fool to subject herself to either.

Logan wrapped both his arms around her and crushed her close to his body. She threw her head back, and his lips fas­tened on the pulse throbbing erratically at her throat. A tiny moan escaped her. His blood boiled, then rushed like molten lava to pool in his loins.

He pulled her hips closer and ground himself against the feminine cradle of her body. His mouth clamped on hers, growing more urgent and demanding in a frenzied effort to demolish her defenses.

Dee's head was reeling, her body pulsing with an excitement she could no longer deny. His raw need shattered what was left of her resistance, making her go soft and pliable in his arms. When his tongue thrust into her mouth, her tongue met it in a feverish demand.

A groan rumbled from his chest, and he kissed her as if she were the best and only reason for living. His hands slid be­tween them to guide her arms over his shoulders. Then he dragged her as close as humanly possible.

He felt her nipples pebble against his chest, and his desire raged out of control. He clutched her hips, lifting her to grind his throbbing arousal into the softness of her abdomen. His kisses grew feverish; his hunger insatiable.

He pressed her against the wall to lock her closer while freeing his hands to explore the soft curves of her hips, waist, and breasts. They shared strangled moans of pleasure as his palms cupped her tightly budded nipples.

“So sweet,” he murmured in a husky, heavy tone. He made love to her with his mouth. His kisses grew longer and deeper, his tongue filled her mouth in thrusting, seductive rhythm while his hands adored her.

He had to have her, had to be a part of her again, had to bury himself in her heat and softness. He knew how tightly she would sheathe him and how perfectly they fit together. He knew she could satisfy longings that were beyond the physical. They were made for each other, and he was going out of his mind.

Logan slid his hands down her rib cage to her hips. His fingers clenched the rounded fullness as he slipped a knee between her legs and slowly lifted it until her feet were off the floor, and she was riding his thigh. Her arms tightened around his neck. Her nipples stabbed at his chest and the tiny cry of arousal she uttered made his head spin.

He wanted her. Right here. Right now. Standing up, on the desk, or on the floor. Anywhere. Any way. He wanted her with a desperation that threatened his control and scared the hell out of him.

His mouth eased off hers long enough to drag in a scorching breath. He opened his eyes and gazed at Dee. Her eyes were closed, her long lashes resting on flushed cheeks. Her lovely features were bathed in moonlight, and he could see that she was just as aroused as he was.

A moan tore from his throat as he peppered her face with kisses while murmuring incoherent compliments and sweet words of longing. One of his hands found the waistband of her jeans, and he deftly flipped the snap, then parted the zipper.

The feel of his hand splayed on her stomach jolted Dee out of the sensual haze she'd been drowning in. A shudder racked her body as sanity returned, and she struggled to resist the temptation that was Logan.

“No!” The hoarse cry of denial wasn't nearly as firm as she intended it to be. The pathetically weak sound was nearly lost as Logan's mouth fastened on hers again.

Dee jerked her arms from his neck and flattened her hands on his shoulders to force some space between them. At the same time, she twisted her mouth free and squirmed to escape the muscled thigh that had her pinned between the wall and his hard body.

“No!” Her second refusal was louder and much more force­ful.

Logan's hands circled her waist to steady her as she tried to force more space between them. “You can't mean that,” he insisted in a raw tone.

Dee was fighting for breath and control. She didn't look him in the eyes, but she felt his shocked gaze burning over her face.

“I mean it,” she assured him.

“I'm on fire!” he growled hoarsely.

He didn't need to tell her that. They were both inflamed beyond reason, and that's why she had panicked.

“You started it,” she accused, managing to shift her body from intimate contact with his.

“You were with me all the way,” he reminded fiercely. He kept one hand locked on her waist. He used the other to force her chin up so that she couldn't avoid looking directly at him. “Don't pretend that you don't want me just as much as I want you!”

His blistering gaze seared her, but Dee didn't blink or shift her eyes. “My body might want the sex, but I don't want you,” she declared baldly.

He might have ignored her protests if her eyes hadn't been glittering with so much blatant disgust. He ground his teeth together and fought to rein his desire. His muscles were tight with tension, his body hard and heavy with need.

“Why?” he forced himself to ask as he dragged air into his heaving chest.

Dee took advantage of his confusion to squirm out of his reach, but she was still pinned between him and the door.

“How can you ask why?” she argued angrily. Her fingers trembled uncontrollably as she concentrated on smoothing her blouse and refastening her jeans.

Logan grasped her head between his hands and forced her to give him her full attention. He allowed a small amount of space between them, but only because he needed to protect himself from more brutal enticement.

“I'm asking because I don't know why the hell you're de­nying us something we're both aching for.”

“Because it's wrong!” she snapped. “Because I don't even like you. Because you have a hundred guests outside. Because somebody has to consider the serious consequences of irre­sponsible, unprotected sex!”

Anger surged through Logan, replacing some of the sexual tension. Her passionate insistence that she didn't like him pierced his heart. Her suggestion that he was irresponsible stung his pride.

“I can protect you,” he snarled. “I was always willing to protect you.”

“Sometimes,” she argued, shifting so that no part of their bodies was even brushing.

“All of the time,” he shot back.

“Not all of the time!” she accused fiercely. “Not one hundred percent of the time. And you weren't too concerned about the times we forgot!”

“Because I loved you!”

“Well, you have a hell of a way of showing it,” she snapped, eyes flashing fire. “You wanted everything your way and damn the consequences.”

Consequences? The only consequences of unprotected sex between them would have been an unplanned pregnancy. Logan stiffened in shock as everything suddenly fell into place. Understanding dawned; the reason she hated him so fiercely, the reason she rejected him while wanting him, the reason she panicked at the thought of making love.

“You're pregnant?” he whispered hoarsely. He shook his head as if to clear it. His eyes swiftly roamed her body, then locked on her face. “No, you couldn't be. You'd be showing, even with your first.”

He watched all the color drain from Dee's face. Her eyes became guarded, her expression distraught. He knew she hadn't intended to expose so much.

“What happened?” he demanded, grasping her by the fore­arms and keeping her from dodging past him to the door. “Were you pregnant? Why didn't you get in touch with me?”

Her expression grew mutinous, and Logan's frustration in­tensified. When he'd traced her after their separation, she'd told him there was another man. Had she been pregnant and unsure who the father was? The idea enraged him, and he shook her in agitation.

“Were there other lovers?” he demanded tightly.

 “No!” Dee was startled into an honest retaliation, then in­stantly wanted to recall the damning truth.

“Then the consequences must have been a pregnancy. You were carrying my baby and you didn't let me know?” he de­manded, outraged.

Tears welled in her eyes, and she went as white as a sheet. Her legs would have folded, and she'd have crumpled to the floor without his support.

“Dee!” His voice quivered in a combination of fear and rage. “What did you do?”

For an instant the bleakness and misery in her eyes were so intense that it hurt him. She shook her head from side to side in denial, but Logan wasn't sure whether she was too ashamed, too afraid, or just too upset to tell him.

“Did you harm our baby?” he finally managed in a strangled whisper.

A sob tore at Dee's throat. Had she hurt their baby? Could she have done anything to save him? Would he have lived if she'd cut back on work and gotten more rest? If she'd taken her vitamins and eaten better? If she hadn't been so emotionally distraught? The doctors had told her she wasn't responsible for the miscarriage, but their assurances hadn't appeased her in­credible guilt.

“Dee!” Logan barked, tightening his grip on her arms and giving her a rough shake to snap her out of her numbed state.

His voice was raw with leashed fury. “Have you had an abortion?”

A sob caught in her throat. She blinked back tears and stared at him, stunned out of her pained stupor. He thought she'd deliberately destroyed their baby? Didn't he know her at all? Could he have given her any more proof that his vows of eternal love had been nothing more than lies?

An unwelcome flash of insight helped her realize that she'd needed to unburden herself about the baby. She'd been des­perate to mourn their son with his father, but she'd never dreamed he would accuse her of harming the life they’d created.

Logan watched her eyes harden into a mutinous glare. Her mouth thinned into a tight line. When she didn't answer him, he took her silence as a confession of guilt. Her refusal to deny his charge came across as a defiant admission that she'd aborted their baby and knew there was nothing he could do about it.

“Damn you,” he ground out roughly. “Damn you to hell!” Pain and rage warred within him. His blood boiled, shooting a fiery path through his body, glazing his eyes, and exploding in his skull. His body quaked in an effort to control the need for violence. His fingers bit into Dee's arms, and it took all his considerable strength to loosen his grip enough to shove her out of his reach.

She watched him rake both hands through his hair as he deliberately turned his back on her and put some distance be­tween them. She knew he was devastated and fighting for con­trol. She'd faced the same emotional devastation—alone.

Any impulse she had to comfort him died a quick death. Where had he been when she'd needed comfort? She'd learned she was pregnant after he'd brutally rejected her. She'd been so hurt and humiliated that she'd refused to see him, and had lead him to believe there was another man in her life. That's when she'd discovered she was pregnant.

She'd tortured herself for weeks about whether or not to contact him. She'd been sick and frightened and so alone; too ashamed to share her secret with her family. She'd felt used and cheap. Then she'd lost the baby, and nothing or no one could have consoled her. He didn't have to condemn her to hell. She'd been living in it for months. She'd only begun to pull out of the quagmire of depression when she'd come to Kentucky and run into him.

He might be comforted by the fact that their baby hadn't been deliberately aborted. Dee considered trying to explain, but she couldn't find the courage or strength. In his present state of mind, she doubted he’d even believe the truth. Regardless of what he believed, nothing was going to bring their baby back.

For a long time, only the sounds of their ragged breathing could be heard in the room. It was minutes later before they were both in control of their ravaged emotions, but it would be still longer before either could forgive.

Once Logan had a grip on the rage that threatened to con­sume him, he was hit by a wave of crushing guilt. If he'd swallowed his pride and told her the truth in the beginning, they wouldn't have separated in anger. She wouldn't have been alone and pregnant.

He had only himself to blame for the unplanned pregnancy. She'd been innocent and admittedly unprotected while his pas­sion had raged out of control. He'd promised to protect her, but he'd been careless, and she'd had to face the consequences. The knowledge didn't lessen his pain or his rage at her decision.

“When?” he was finally calm enough to ask.

Dee had dropped into the chair behind his desk. She turned to look at him when he spoke, but his question didn't imme­diately register in the confused jumble of her thoughts.

“When what?”

“When would the baby have been born? When did it die?”

She answered without thinking. “He would have been born in October. He died on March 30th.”

“He?” His dangerously low tone alerted Dee to the mistake of telling him any of the details. She clamped her lips shut and promised herself not to tell him another thing about the baby he thought she'd killed. .

“You knew it was a boy?” Logan demanded. “Did you have tests run, or do they tell you that kind of thing at abortion clin­ics?”

Dee glared at him in icy silence. Her strength was returning, and she rose from the chair. She didn't have to respond to any more of his insults. She wanted nothing more than to escape Logan Bradford's presence and his home.

“Sharla and Carlie will be getting worried about me.” She managed a calm tone, ignoring the glacial look in his eyes.

They were already looking for her. Once Dee's emotional upheaval had subsided a little, she'd begun to feel her sisters' concern. They'd be scouring the house soon, and she didn't want them to find her with Logan,

“Your personal bodyguards won't like losing sight of you for so long, will they?”

“No, they won't.”

“Did they know about the baby?” he asked. His question was intended to wring more information out of her, but it caused a surprising flash of alarm in her eyes.

“They don't, do they?” he demanded. “'You would have been too ashamed to tell your family since you hadn't even told them about me,” he guessed accurately.

Dee clenched her teeth in anger. She was a fool. She wasn't good at hiding her emotions, and he was very good at reading them.

She'd inadvertently handed him a weapon to use against her, and she hated the way his eyes gleamed with the knowledge. Her family was more important to her than anything else in the world. They'd be shattered by the fact that she hadn't con­fided in them. She didn't want them hurt by her mistakes.

The sound of Sharla's voice carried into the room from the direction of the kitchen, and Dee stiffened. She wanted him to swear he wouldn't divulge her secret, but she had no way of obtaining his silence.

“What's it worth to keep me quiet?” he taunted, knowing exactly what she was thinking and deciding to take advantage.

Her temper flared. “I won't make any bargains with my body, if that's what you're hoping,” she snapped. “I don't want to upset my family, but I won't prostitute myself to keep you quiet.”

Logan's mouth twisted in distaste. His eyes were as hard as flint when they locked with hers. “You don't have to worry on that account,” he mocked. “I've suddenly lost all interest in your sweet little body.”

His mocking dismissal stung, but Dee tried not to let him see how much. “Since that's all you ever wanted in the first place,” she accused, “then I guess there's no use discussing blackmail.”

She knew the accusation struck a nerve by the narrowing of his eyes.

Despite the fact that Logan was outraged by her actions, he wasn't ready to let her walk out of his life. He wanted more time. “I still need a flight instructor.”

“You can forget that, too. There's no way I'd sentence myself to spend hours in a classroom with you.”

“That suits me fine,” he countered. “I've lost the desire to take lessons. But I have a whole lot of money wrapped up in this project, and I have two men who need the training. You agree to cooperate, and I won't share your secret with your sisters.”

Dee could hear Sharla and Carlie's voices coming closer. She had crossed the room and grasped the door handle when Logan's hand settled over hers. She didn't look at him, but she could feel the heat of his body and the warmth of his breath as he whispered near her ear.

“What's it going to be, Dee? Should I invite them in for a chat or are you going to come work for me?”

Both suggestions were abhorrent to her. He knew it and was delighting in baiting her. She wasn't sure whether or not he'd follow through on his threats, but she didn't want to take a chance.

“I'll call and let you know,” she hedged.

His low, wicked laughter was completely devoid of humor. “I don't think so. I want your promise. Here and now, or I'm going to do my best to make your life a living hell.”

“What makes you think you haven't already accomplished that?” she snapped, turning her eyes up to his with a look of loathing. They glared at each other for a few tension-filled seconds. Then footsteps approached the door from the hallway.

“What's it going to be?” he prodded, his eyes cold and chal­lenging.

Dee knew Sharla would be feeling some of her chaotic emo­tions. Anger and frustration warred, but concern for her family finally overrode all else.

“All right. You have my promise. I'll teach Jake and Butch, but I want you to promise to stay away from me.”

Logan's grin wasn't pleasant. “I live here, remember? You'll be a guest in my house, and I'm the one with the blackmail material. I don't have to promise you anything.”

Dee angrily slapped his hand off hers and twisted the knob. She jerked the door open, and came face to face with her sisters.

Sharla and Carlie were bombarded with visual and sensual evidence of Dee's turmoil. Their eyes sharpened, and they tensed, ready to defend her if necessary,

“We were getting worried,” said Sharla.

“I'm sorry, I should have stayed close to you.” Dee attempted a reassuring smile, but it wasn't the least bit convincing.

“Are you all right?” Carlie demanded. The light in the hall­way was dim, but she could still see how disheveled and upset Dee was.

“I'm fine, but I'm ready to go home. If you two want to stay a while, I'll wait for you in the plane.”

“We're ready if you are,” Sharla insisted.

Logan didn't try to delay their departure. He wanted a few hundred miles between him and Dee until he'd had time to cool down and come to terms with what he'd learned tonight.

“I'll have Butch bring the car around to the front door,” he said, as he brushed past all three women and strode toward the back of the house.

“Whew!” said Carlie when he'd disappeared from sight and out of hearing range. “I was ready to tear into him, but I think he's even angrier than you are.”

Dee didn't comment. She didn't think it was possible for anyone to be more furious than she was at the moment.

She wanted to rant and rave and curse the day she'd met Logan Bradford. What she didn't want was to explain herself to her sisters, so she was forced to contain her rage.

“I hope Logan will make our excuses,” Sharla commented as the three of them moved toward the front door. “Except for our host's somewhat abrupt farewell,” she added, “everyone has been really nice and friendly.”

“We'll send them a thank you note,” said Carlie as they stepped onto the porch to wait for their transportation. She'd had a good time, but she wanted to get Dee away from here.

“I'll have Butch say something to Jake and Patti,” Sharla decided as the man in question pulled Logan's car to a stop by the steps.

* * * * *

Much later that night, Logan paced the darkness of his bed­room like a caged tiger. His emotions were still churning, and his body was still strung as taut as a bow. Worst of all, he still wanted Dee.

The burning ache had intensified rather than diminished. He'd had her in his arms, stroked her soft, sexy body, and felt her catch fire for him. The taste and feel of her was too vivid. No other woman inflamed him the way she did. The memory of her kept him hard and aching.

He'd tried drowning his sorrows with alcohol for a few hours, but when he'd been on the verge of crying in his beer, he'd sobered up fast. He'd also been tempted to slake his sexual hunger with any available, willing woman. There'd been a few at the party, but none who deserved to be treated so badly. It wasn't their fault Dee had left him feeling raw and needy.

She'd promised to return. Had she lied? Would she keep a promise that had been coerced from her? If she didn't, he'd make a trip to Virginia and raise some hell. He wasn't letting her get away with jerking him around like this. He was going insane.

He wanted what she'd stolen from him. His masculinity and his child. He wanted to sate himself with her beautiful body, and give her another baby. Once he'd had his fill of her, he didn't care if she stayed or not, but he wanted a child.

A son. He'd fathered a son, and he hadn't even known until it was too late to protect him. The thought tore an anguished moan from him. He and Dee had made a baby together. He'd planted his seed in the heat of passion, and she'd destroyed the fruit of their love. How could she have done such a thing?

He wasn't getting any younger, and he wanted a family. Dee was going to bear a child for him. If she didn't want to marry him and help him raise a child, then he'd fight for custody and raise him or her himself.

When she returned—not if, but when—he was going to give her a few days to settle in and get comfortable, and then he would be relentless. The fierce desire that flared between them wasn't likely to die until it was thoroughly quenched. He'd wear down her defenses until they were lovers again.

The thought sent another hot rush of blood to his loins. There was no doubt that his body was willing and able to follow through with a plan of seduction. He wouldn't be sat­isfied until she was begging and helpless.

Chapter Six

By Friday of the week following the fourth, Dee was in a state of total exhaustion. She'd made every effort to banish Logan from her mind, but she hadn't succeeded. She wasn't sleeping, she had no appetite, and she couldn't seem to shake off the depression that had settled over her since leaving Ken­tucky.

Her family had been patient and considerate. They hadn't bombarded her with questions. They respected her privacy, but they'd made it clear they were willing to listen if she wanted to talk. She just couldn't talk about Logan.

She'd cleared her training schedule in preparation for the assignment in Kentucky, so she didn't have any students right now. She'd been helping Sharla with charters and Carlie with cargo, trying to keep herself too busy to think. By the end of the week, she was dragging.

“You look exhausted, Darla Jo,” Belle admonished when Dee entered the company office on Friday afternoon. “You've been taking on too much work this week.”

“You might be right, Mother,” Dee admitted as she turned her flight log over to Belle. “A cool shower and bed sound pretty inviting.”

“Well, I hope you're going to make time to eat. If you don't feel like cooking, you can have dinner with your dad and I.”

“Thanks, I might take you up on the offer after I get clean and change into something cooler.”

“Sharla's going out with Reed, but Carlie said she'll have dinner with us,” explained Belle. “Would you rather wait until later to discuss the new contract from the Circle B's?”

Dee stilled. “New contract?” she asked in a wary tone.

“It came this morning. Most of the details are the same; the training time, working conditions, and salary. The only change is that you'd have two students instead of three. Mr. Bradford has obviously decided not to take the training.”

Dee nodded. She hadn't told her mother much about their visit to Kentucky, only that there had been some indecision and that everything had been put on hold. She'd secretly hoped that Logan would find someone else to train his men and leave her alone. The new contract confirmed the fact that he intended to follow through with his threats.

“Mr. Bradford won't be taking the training from me,” she explained.

“Are you still planning to go there and train the other two?”

Dee clenched her teeth, furious with Logan for putting her in so difficult a position. She didn't want to go to Kentucky, but she had a feeling he would come after her if she refused. He couldn't force her to do anything, yet he could cause a lot of heartache. Either way, she and her family would come out losers.

For days she'd mentally reviewed their arguments.

It had been a relief to unburden herself to Logan; sharing the guilt she'd carried so long. It had also been a mistake to give him information he knew she didn't want told. She'd considered telling her parents and sisters the whole truth so that his threat would be useless, but she just couldn't bring herself to hurt and disappoint her family

“I'm still considering it,” she told her mother. “Logan Bradford is an old acquaintance I don't want to renew.” That was as much as she cared to admit. “But everyone else at the Circle B's was kind, and it's a beautiful place.”

“They want you to move in this weekend and start work Monday,” Belle informed her. “I don't want you to go unless you're absolutely sure.”

Dee swallowed a moan. He wasn't allowing her any more time. The new contract was a reminder that he wasn't going to let her off the hook.

“I'm too tired to think about it right now. I'll read the con­tract and decide later,” she said, accepting the bundle of papers from her mother. “Sunday will be soon enough to go to Ken­tucky if I don't start lessons until Monday.”

Belle watched her leave the office, wondering if any contact with Logan Bradford would prove a disaster for Dee. Appar­ently, the two hadn't worked out their differences.

Later, after reading the contract several times and doing more soul-searching, Dee joined Carlie and her parents for dinner. She told them she'd decided to go to Kentucky. Not wanting them to worry, she made it sound as though she wel­comed a chance for a change of scenery.

Carlie wasn't convinced, but she didn't say anything during dinner. After the sisters said good night to their parents, they took a brief walk outdoors while heading for their individual apartments. It was another sultry evening filled with the sounds and scents of summer. Twilight enveloped them, and Carlie took the opportunity to question Dee about her trip.

“What made you decide to go to Kentucky?”

Dee sighed. “A combination of things,” she admitted. She'd come to the conclusion that she had to take the assignment and prove to herself that she had the strength and courage to deal with Logan Bradford. She wanted him out of her system forever.

“Are you sure it's a wise decision?”

“No.”

“If you have serious doubts, then why don't you tell them to find someone else?”

“I tried, without success. At this point, Logan isn't going to settle for anyone else.”

“What kind of hold does he have on you?” Carlie asked softly. “Surely it's nothing so terrible that you're afraid to fight him on this.”

“It's complicated,” was all she admitted. “I could refuse to go train Jake and Butch, but that's not really in anyone's best interest. I loved Logan, and I thought he loved me. I was wrong. I need to put it behind me and get on with my life. I won't be able to do that until I can immunize myself against him. I want to be near him and not feel anything. This is a chance to do that.”

“You haven't really known him that long, and only while both of you were on vacation,” Carlie commented. “Maybe you'll find out he's a jerk in real life. He could be spoiled, opinionated, pompous...”

Dee agreed. “Arrogant, overbearing, obnoxious . .”

“Bossy, spiteful...”

“Domineering, judgmental...”

“Malicious...”

“Selfish...”

“Ill mannered...”

“He probably has tons of bad habits,” Dee injected, looping her arm through Carlie's as they strolled around the house. “Probably chews tobacco and spits on the floor.”

“Probably guzzles beer and belches like a pig,” Carlie added, enjoying their game.

“Probably kicks his dog...”

“Probably hates cats...”

“Probably swears like a sailor...”

“Probably tracks mud on clean floors...”

“Throws his dirty clothes all over the house...”

“A real slob...”

“Leaves the toilet seat up,” Carlie concluded with a grimace, and they were both chuckling as they reached Dee's apartment door.

“Dr. Carlie Prescott predicts that you'll be cured of any adolescent crush on Mr. Logan Bradford within two weeks of living with the man,” Carlie teased. “I may not be the most clairvoyant person in this family, but I'm considering fortune-telling. What do you think?”

Dee felt like laughing for the first time in days. She gave Carlie a parting hug. “I think I like your prediction. You may be right about Logan. When I get to Kentucky, I'm going to keep a running list of his imperfections. I should be cured in no time.”

She tried to find comfort in that thought for the rest of the night and all day Saturday. By the time she was flying to her temporary home on Sunday afternoon, she'd almost convinced herself that she could live in Logan's house and remain unaf­fected.

Arriving at the Circle B's, she learned from Jake that his boss was gone on a buying trip to New Mexico. The knowl­edge brought a rush of conflicting emotions. Dee realized that she wasn't as brave as she'd pretended, and she was glad for the reprieve. It was important for her to concentrate on setting up her training program. It was much easier to do without worrying that he might show up at any moment.

Jake loaded her cases into his truck and took her to the house where she was warmly greeted by Mattie Walters. The housekeeper was a small, middle-aged woman with short, curly silver hair, twinkling brown eyes and an abundance of energy. The two women had met at the barbecue, but hadn't had a chance to really get acquainted.

“Patti decided to go with Logan, so I'm the official wel­coming committee,” she said. “You and Jake just follow me, and I'll show you where you can put your things. Then we'll have a chance to visit a bit.”

Mattie led the way to the room at the back of the house that had been readied for Dee. The housekeeper threw open the door and stepped aside to let them enter.

It was a huge room with a king-sized, solid oak bed and matching furniture. The style was old-fashioned, but the room was done in delicate shades of mauve and blue. Dee could see Patti's hand in the decorating.

As soon as Jake set down the luggage, Mattie told him to get lost while she helped their guest get unpacked. She mentioned that men were handy to help, but they shouldn't dally in a young lady's bedroom.

“Gee, Mattie, I can take a hint, you don't have to be so blunt with your dismissal,” he teased. “I don't want to invade anyone's privacy.”

It was obvious that he and the housekeeper had an amiable relationship. Dee could sense genuine respect and affection in their teasing.

“I always say it's more practical to be blunt. That way no­body misunderstands,” Mattie clarified.

Dee laughed and Jake threw his hands up in mock surrender. “I'm outta here. Dee, when Mattie dismisses you, we'd be happy to have you check out the room we've set up for lessons. You can let us know what changes need to be made.”

“Carlie's an hour or so behind me,” she explained. “I couldn't bring all the equipment on the Cessna, so she's bring­ing the ground simulator and some other supplies.”

“If you have work to do, just go along with Jake,” Mattie insisted. “I can unpack for you. When Logan and Patti are gone, I don't have enough to do around here anyway.”

“I'm not in a hurry,” Dee assured her. “I can't do much until Carlie comes, so I have time to get organized in here first.”

“Patti says you're to use her car for running back and forth to the airfield. Jake can bring it from the garage and leave it in the drive. That way you won't have to wait for one of the men every time you want transportation,” said Mattie.

“I'll do that now and head back to the field,” Jake told them as he stepped into the hallway.

“I'll be out shortly,” Dee called to his retreating figure. Then she turned her attention to Mattie.

“This room was the master bedroom when John and Martha, the senior Bradfords, were alive. It's the only bedroom down­stairs. You have your own bath,” she explained, waving her hand toward the inside door, then moving to the French doors to pull back the drapes.

“I keep heavy drapes in here. They keep out the cold in winter and sun in summer. There are sheers underneath, so you can adjust them any way you like. The doors have a safety lock so you can secure it twice if you feel the need.”

Dee didn't try to interrupt, just nodded her head and started opening her suitcases.

“You're on the outside corner of the house and have a small patio. The sidewalk from the right leads around to the big patio where we held the barbecue the other night. From there it leads to the barns. The sidewalk to the left leads to the pool. It's too small for a crowd, but it'll cool you off if you want to use it anytime.”

“The kitchen's in the middle of the house. You've seen the family and living rooms, I imagine. The only other down­stairs rooms are the formal dining room, another bathroom, and Logan's office. It's kind of a big, sprawling place, but not the least bit hard to get used to.”

“I'm sure I'll be fine,” Dee managed before the housekeeper continued her dialogue.

“Since this isn't a complete apartment, you'll be taking meals with the family. Anytime you feel the need for a snack, just go to the kitchen and help yourself. I'm not one of those fussy people who throws a fit when someone enters my kitchen. I always say a person should eat when they want to eat. If our schedule doesn't suit you, then make your own.”

“I'm not hard to please,” Dee injected as Mattie stopped to catch her breath.

“I have breakfast ready at seven o'clock,” the older woman continued while throwing open closet doors and dresser draw­ers. “You can situate your clothes anyway you like. There's plenty of space, and I always say it's best for a person to do their own arranging.”

In half a second she continued. “Lunch is at noon, supper's at six. Patti says it's supposed to be called dinner after six, so I tell her we'll eat at five minutes before the hour. It's just a little joke we've always shared. We eat early 'cause the men are hungry by then, and I like to get the kitchen cleaned by a reasonable time. I'm not as young as I used to be.”

The older woman talked as fast as she moved, and she moved with the speed of a hummingbird. Dee stopped trying to watch her, but listened carefully as she busied herself ar­ranging her clothes in the dresser and closet.

She hadn't brought a lot of extra clothing. She normally dressed more casually when training at a private residence, but she'd wanted to appear very professional while in Logan's ter­ritory.

“The laundry room is between this room and the kitchen, but you have to go down the hall. There's no door from this room,” Mattie explained. “You don't have to worry about do­ing any laundry unless you want to. I have little enough to do, so I don't mind taking care of that. Just drop your dirty clothes in the bathroom hamper, and I'll collect them every morning. I'll be more than happy to tidy your room, too.”

“I don't mind straightening the room,” Dee said. “I'm used to keeping my own apartment, so making the bed and picking up after myself are habit.”

Mattie nodded in an approving fashion. “I change all the linens every Monday morning, so you can strip the bed or leave it. I'll remake it for you that day.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Dee. “I'm happiest when I can be outdoors or giving lessons.”

“And I'm happiest when I'm busy,” Mattie added, closing Dee's cases and storing them in the top of the closet. “Patti and Logan spend most of the day outdoors, too, so I have plenty of uninterrupted time to keep things organized inside the house.”

She propped her hands on her hips and quickly surveyed the room, satisfying herself that all was well. “If you're hun­gry, help yourself to anything that appeals to you. I'll fix some­thing light for supper since it's just you and me. Or you're welcome to invite your sister to join us when she comes.”

“I imagine Carlie will want to fly right back to Virginia,” said Dee. “And I had a big lunch, so something light sounds fine. I'll take care of everything at the airfield and join you again at five minutes ‘til six.”

Mattie chuckled and reached for the door. “We'll get along just fine. If any of those boys gives you any trouble, you just let me know. They're a pretty good bunch, but boys will be boys, and Logan wouldn't want you to put up with any she­nanigans. He's always been the chivalrous sort, though he'd deny it to his last breath.”

“I don't usually have trouble dealing with men,” Dee told her with a smile. She appreciated the older woman's offer of support, but ignored the comment concerning Logan's charac­ter. “But thank you for the offer.”

“You're welcome,” said Mattie. She was still talking as she left the room and pulled the door closed behind her. “Just make yourself at home. Jake will have Patti's car out front. I'll see you in a little while.”

Dee sighed softly as the door closed. Now that she'd arrived and found Logan gone, she could allow herself to relax and enjoy her surroundings. The room she'd been given was lovely. The carpet was mauve, textured and plush. The artfully draped windows faced west and provided plenty of late afternoon sun­light to brighten the room, while the air conditioner kept the temperature at a comfortable level.

She couldn't have felt more welcome. Everything about Logan's home was warm and inviting. Everything but the man himself. She hoped he stayed away for the whole time she was in residence. Dee enjoyed new challenges, and she was looking forward to teaching Jake and Butch to fly.

She was anxious to see the area they'd furnished for a classroom. Once Carlie brought her supplies, they'd be ready for training. It would be a pleasure to get on with her job. Then she'd have a lot less time to worry about Logan.

Her bathroom was decorated in the same shade of mauve used in the bedroom, but coupled with rich cream-colored walls and tiled floor. It wasn't very large, but it had a big bathtub and shower stall. Dee took the time to glance in the mirror, smooth her hair, and splash a little water on her face. Then she headed out of the room and out of the house.

A sporty blue, late-model Corvette was parked near the front porch steps. Dee whistled in admiration as she caught sight of it. Patti must be a generous person to allow guests to drive this car, she thought as she eased herself into the low bucket seat.

It took her a couple minutes to familiarize herself with the controls, but then the powerful engine was purring, and she was following the road she knew led to the airfield.

The hangar was another pleasant surprise. Half of the long building was used as a garage and storage area for planes. The other half was partitioned into the two smaller work areas, one for a radio room and the other for a classroom.

As teacher, Dee had been given a big desk and a blackboard, which she would definitely use. Despite the austere style of the building, the walls were freshly painted, a serviceable car­pet covered the concrete floor and there was air-conditioning. Straight-back chairs were accompanied by several more com­fortable chairs.

When Carlie arrived, Butch and Jake helped to unload more supplies. The ground flight simulator was transported to the classroom and readied for use. Dee hung several graphs and charts around the room and made sure she had everything she would need before seeing her sister off again.

Shortly after Carlie was in the air, the men headed for the barns to do their evening chores. Dee made her way back to the house to join Mattie for supper.

While they ate, the housekeeper continued to describe the normal routine of the Circle B's, providing her with more information than she normally would have obtained in several weeks. The two women shared the duties of cleaning the kitchen and then carried their coffee to the patio.

The temperature had hovered in the nineties all day, but a gentle breeze helped make the heat more bearable. They carried aluminum lawn chairs to the shade of an old oak tree and made themselves comfortable.

As soon as they sat down, a big, aging Labrador retriever rose from his resting spot near the trunk of the tree and ambled over to put his head on Dee's lap, begging for attention.

“Well, I'll be,” Mattie said. “That's the first time I ever saw old Ace get up and move for anybody but Logan. He's paying you quite a compliment. He used to raise a fuss every time a stranger came near the house, but he doesn't worry himself over much anymore.”

“Hi, there, old man,” Dee crooned in a low tone as she patted the broad, black head of the Lab. The inky fur was liberally sprinkled with gray. “You must be getting up there in years.”

“He's seventeen years old this summer. Logan's had him since he was just a pup, and the two of 'em are real pals. Ace moped around here something terrible when Logan was in the service. Then he came home, and that dog refused to leave his side. Everywhere Logan went, Ace went.”

“The service?” Dee repeated in surprise. Logan had never mentioned being in the military.

Mattie shifted her eyes, looking uncomfortable for a minute. “The Navy,” she explained, then quickly changed the subject back to the dog.

“Patti thought Logan should have old Ace put to sleep this summer. She's afraid he's going blind and suffering in his old age.”

“Oh, no,” Dee countered, scratching Ace's ear and feeling the contentment of the old dog. She had an unusual affinity with animals and usually knew if one was in pain.

“Ace might have had a rough start in life, and he might have a lot of old scars, but I'll bet he's had a cushy life,” she declared.

Mattie's eyes were sharp as they rested on Dee's lovely fea­tures. “How did you know that?” she asked in surprise.

Dee glanced at her. “Know what?”

“That he had a rough start and has collected lots of scars over the years,” Mattie clarified. “Has Logan told you about Ace?”

Dee shifted her eyes back to the dog. She hadn't meant to hint at her uncanny knowledge of animals. Few people could understand her extrasensory perception. It was hard to describe the feelings she experienced when it came to human beings. Explaining about animals was nearly impossible. She didn't discuss it, especially with people who didn't know her well. She'd never even mentioned it to Logan.

 “He didn't tell me where he got Ace.” She managed to side­step the question without lying.

 “It was an accident,” Mattie explained. “Ace was one of a litter of pups the neighbors owned. He was about eight weeks old, all clumsy and long-legged. Logan happened to be riding near the road and saw the pup get hit by a truck. The driver didn't even stop to see if the dog was dead or alive.”

Dee nodded and kept petting Ace.

“Anyway, Logan got the dog to the vet. It was touch and go for a few days. John, Logan's dad, thought maybe they shouldn't try to save him because he had several broken bones and an injured lung. But Logan insisted. He refused to let the dog die. Sat up with him most nights and carried him around until his legs healed. They've been firm friends ever since.”

Dee nodded. Something about Ace had made her think of old scars. That's why she'd made the unusual slip of the tongue that Mattie had been quick to notice. The dog didn't seem to be suffering in the least. He was healthy, yet she had a feeling that he was growing tired; the kind of tired that couldn't be remedied with sleep.

“I always say old Ace is part cat, because he's had more than nine lives. He's been shot a few times, run over by a truck, kicked by a horse, and tangled in barbed wire, but he's a survivor. At one time, he was the local Romeo, and serviced all the female dogs within ten miles of here. Now he's content to lay under this old shade tree.”

“It's funny how people say, 'It's a dog's life,' and mean that life is rough,” Dee commented, “because some dogs have a better life than people, and without the stress of coping with a lot of emotional problems.”

Mattie agreed. “You can say that again. I've got a friend who treats her dog like one of the family. Let's it eat at the table and sleep with her.”

“We never had pets when I was growing up,” Dee men­tioned. “My mother has allergies and we moved too often to make it practical.”

“Old Ace and a few of his offspring are the only dogs we've had around here. He's outlived them all, but he doesn't roam like he used to. Like I said, Logan's about the only one he thumps that heavy tail for anymore.”

Ace had flopped beside Dee's chair. His head was hot and heavy where it rested on her foot, but she didn't make any attempt to move him. Mattie continued to make small talk as they drank their coffee. Once their cups were empty, they put them on a nearby table and two tawny cats jumped into Dee's lap.

“Well, I'll be,” Mattie declared in amazement. “Every critter on the farm must have decided to say hello. Those cats hardly ever leave the barn. They don't usually make up to people. Just shoo 'em away if you want.”

Dee stroked both cats and gave Mattie a smile. “Animals just naturally gravitate to me,” she admitted. “I guess they know I'm an easy target. I have a real soft spot for little crea­tures. Maybe it's because I had to settle for goldfish as pets.”

Mattie laughed at the idea of petting a goldfish. “You'll have plenty of opportunity to fuss over animals around here. There's always a new litter or baby. Dolly, there on your right knee, has a litter of kittens in the barn. They're about three weeks old and getting frisky. The one on your left knee is Tom. He's probably the father, but it's hard to tell about these things unless you actually witness the conception.”

Dee smiled and stroked the cats. Dolly was a calico and Tom was tiger-striped. Their fur was silky smooth, and she imagined they had some pretty offspring.

“I'd like to see the kittens.”

“They're in the main horse barn. That's the one closest to the house. Jake will probably show you all around the property tomorrow, but feel free to explore. You probably won't be stuck in the hangar all day, will you?'

“We've decided to start with a couple hours in the morning and a couple in the evening.”

Mattie approved. “That sounds reasonable. Jake's a little pressed for time with Logan gone, but he should be back early in the week.”

The thought wasn't reassuring to Dee. She was rapidly learning to like everything about his home and staff, but she wasn't anxious to put herself to the test of living under the same roof with him.

She needed a little more time, and hoped he'd stay away longer than expected. Mattie's earlier question about Ace led her to believe that the family knew she and Logan had been acquainted before she was hired for the training. She just didn't know how much they knew.

Her sisters were the only people who'd witnessed the after­shocks of their argument on the fourth, but Patti and Jake were aware of the tension between them. Jake hadn't said or done anything that suggested he was taking sides.

Patti might have a different attitude. She seemed close to her brother, and maybe a little protective. The whole situation could become difficult if Logan involved the family and staff in their personal problems. Dee had always thought he was too private to openly express his emotions, but then she'd re­alized that she really didn't know him at all.

Despite her conflicting emotions, Dee settled down to bed that night feeling totally at peace. She gave some thought to sleeping in his parents' bedroom, yet felt no disquiet. She couldn't help but wonder where Logan's bedroom was located, but she didn't investigate the second story. She was a guest and, despite Mattie's suggestion that she explore, she didn't want to invade anyone's privacy.

Chapter Seven

For the next couple of days, Dee settled into a slow-paced routine that included early-morning training sessions, explora­tions of the Bradford property, and getting to know all of Logan’s staff.

Everyone she met was friendly and anxious to please her. Before long, she realized that Logan's employees knew he was interested in her on a personal level rather than a professional one.

She was being privately labeled Logan's woman, whether she wanted to be or not. No one actually said anything that she could refute, yet everyone treated her with cautious respect. They thought their boss was trying to win her affection, so they went out of their way to tell her what a great guy he was.

On one occasion, Jake mentioned that Logan was a hard worker and never asked his men to do anything he wasn't will­ing to do himself. On several different occasions, he praised Logan's talents in handling the horses, saying that he was the best in the business.

Butch mentioned that Logan was an honest and fair man to work for. The young trainer admitted to idolizing his boss, and praised him for being a strong, dependable man with a wonderful reputation in the community.

Mattie explained, several times and in great detail, that he was a concerned employer who cared about his staff and was generous with those who worked for him. She also mentioned that he'd raised Patti since their parents' death when she was still a youngster, and that he was a loyal, devoted family man.

Grif Myers, the senior horse trainer, even managed to get in a word about what a fine specimen of manhood Logan was, and that single, hard-working young men were hard to find these days.

Everyone seemed to be in agreement about their boss's strengths and attributes. According to the Circle B's staff, their boss was a prince among men.

Dee wondered if Logan realized how much his employees cared for him. She knew they wouldn't be trying to impress her by outlining his more admirable traits unless they were genuinely fond of him and concerned about his happiness.

As far as she was concerned, his employees were the loyal, dependable ones. They easily won her respect and af­fection. Still, she was far from persuaded that he deserved their high marks in character.

By the time Butch and Jake had finished their classroom training on Wednesday evening, Dee was certain they were the most cooperative students she'd ever taught. Despite the fact that they had to fit classes into their long work days, they were still attentive. Both were intelligent and learned quickly, mak­ing them easy to teach.

In a short three days, Dee and Mattie became firm friends. The two of them shared the house, meals, and lots of inter­esting conversation. When Dee wasn't working in her class­room or accompanying Jake around the property, she helped the housekeeper weed the garden, pick vegetables, and pre­serve some of the produce.

The weather remained hot, but not unlike the weather Dee was accustomed to in Virginia. The house was cool and always offered a pleasant relief from the heat. At night, Dee showered and slid into bed feeling tired, but with the satisfaction of having accomplished something worthwhile.

Not long past midnight on Wednesday, after being asleep in bed for just a short time, she dreamt of Logan. It was the first time he'd invaded her dreams in several weeks, and it was an incredibly erotic dream that left her trembling and shaken.

Her mouth was dry, her breathing rough, as she dragged herself to consciousness, kicking the sheet off while fighting the effects of a dream that seemed so real it left her heart racing. Despite the air-conditioned comfort of the room, she was hot and sweating, restless and frustrated.

She slid her legs over the side of the bed and sat up to rake the hair off her face and neck. She always left it loose when sleeping. Right now it felt like a woolen blanket clinging to her neck and shoulders.

Dee pushed herself off the bed and realized her legs were shaking, then damned the vivid memories of Logan that left her weak and wanting. She hated herself for recalling every nuance of his voice and every tiny way he knew to drive her mad with desire.

Her skin tingled, her breasts felt tight and achy, and her body throbbed with a need that no amount of wishful thinking could will away. She paced to the French doors, drew back the drapes, and stared into the moonlit night, but this time her restlessness couldn't be soothed by the quiet beauty of the night.

The crescent moon warded off complete darkness. The sky was dappled with stars and fireflies twinkled in abundance. A distant security light kept the area around the back of the house dimly lit.

She found herself wishing she'd brought a bathing suit with her. It was tempting to make use of the pool, but she wasn't bold enough to skinny dip. Sliding open the door, she decided to at least escape the bedroom until she could regain control of her senses.

Her pajamas were hot pink and very skimpy, little more than silk boxer shorts with a matching tank top. They hugged her body and left a lot of bare skin, but she didn't expect to en­counter anyone at this time of night.

It was a short walk to the pool, and she made it in silence. The night air was warmer than that of the bedroom, but not uncomfortably so. Dee inhaled deeply, enjoying the heavily scented sweetness of the air, and trying to calm her riotous emotions.

How could her subconscious torment her with memories of Logan's loving, she wondered in irritation. Was she a glutton for punishment? Some kind of masochist? Why couldn't she completely banish the man from her memories? If she had to dream about him, why did the dreams have to be so real, leav­ing her so weak and wanting?

Why couldn't she just stop wanting him? He'd betrayed her trust in the worst sort of way, yet she still yearned for every­thing he'd offered her. She didn't want to be his plaything, nor did she want to be a helpless victim of her own desires.

She had to let go of the memories. She knew that, but how was she supposed to do it? No other man interested her. No other man sparked a fraction of the passion Logan could stimu­late with just his hungry eyes. Was she doomed to be forever held in the grip of an unrequited love?

The pool was small, kidney-shaped, and darkly shadowed. Dee didn't mind. She didn't intend to swim; just to dip her feet into the water and hope it would help her relax a little.

Mattie had told her there were underwater lights, but she didn't want to use them. She felt less vulnerable in the darkness.

The thin barrier of her silk shorts wasn't much protection as she sat down on the edge of the pool. The concrete deck was cool and damp, the water even cooler as she slid both feet into the shallow end by the steps.

As soon as she was seated, she flipped her hair over her shoulders and gazed around her. It wasn't until then that she noted the dark shape in the pool. Her heart lurched in her chest as she recognized Logan's form gliding toward her be­neath the water.

He surfaced close to the steps where her feet were resting. His naked body glistened with pagan beauty, muscled, sleek, and all male. The sight of him made her breath catch, her pulse accelerate, and her limbs quiver. She cursed herself for ever leaving the bedroom.

“Dee.”

His voice was deep and throaty. The way he said her name made her pulse pound with a mixture of apprehension and anticipation. He was thigh-deep in the pool; his masculine form boldly exposed. Water swirled through the dark golden curls on his chest and ran in rivulets down his powerfully mas­culine body.

Seeing him while she was still emotionally and physically disturbed by her dreams was an unwelcome shock that she desperately wanted to conceal.

“Logan,” she returned in a quiet tone that belied the emo­tions running rampant within her. “I didn't realize you were home.” She didn't have to add that she wouldn't have risked a late-night stroll if she’d known he was back.

Despite all that had transpired between them, including the anger and resentment that were still strong, neither of them had the energy or inclination to argue.

“We got back half an hour ago. I've been driving since six this morning. I needed some exercise.” In a few succinct sen­tences he explained his presence at the pool.

Dee could feel his weariness, and that shocked her. Logan was the one person who had always confused her senses, leaving them in chaos. She'd never been able to read him like she did other people. Now she studied his facial features with wary eyes. He looked tired and strained, but his eyes gleamed brightly in the shadows. His scrutiny was intense, and she quickly averted her gaze.

Deciding to make a hasty retreat. Dee started to pull her feet from the water, but he moved swiftly to stop her. One of his wide, cool hands settled on her hot thigh, and her nerves sizzled. She felt a jolt of sensation from the tip of her toes to the top of her head. It was more than a little alarming.

“I need to get back inside,” she insisted huskily.

“No,” he countered in a rough growl, “you can't run and hide forever. It's a waste of time to try.”

“It's my time,” she challenged, but as he stepped closer, her heart leapt with excitement. She continued to fight him men­tally, but her body had a mind of its own. There wasn't an inch of it that didn't respond to the memory of how incredible he could make her feel.

Their gazes eyes clashed; hers wary, his determined. Dee caught her breath at the sensual intent she read in his heated gaze. He might hate her, but there was no doubting that he wanted her. Desire radiated from his big body, enveloping her in a cocoon of heated sensuality.

One of Logan's hands slid around her waist and the other under her hips. He shifted her until he could step between her legs and pull her close. Then he lifted a hand to sink it into the heavy thickness of her hair.

The feel of his hard, naked body between her thighs trig­gered a gasp from Dee. Her hands automatically splayed against his chest to ward him off, but Logan pulled her head closer until he could trap her mouth with his own.

No! Dee's mental cry was anguished. She couldn't bare the incredible tension. She wanted him too much. Still aroused by her own erotic dreams, she didn't have the strength to deny him, but knew it would be a stupid mistake to let Logan make love to her.

His mouth was cool, wet, and demanding. He wasn't rough, but the hungry little bites he took of her lips were more effective than any force he might have used. He shifted closer until he was firmly nestled against the cradle of her body with only thin silk to separate them. Then he sunk both hands in her hair and held her head captive while he continued the gen­tle, persistent assault on her mouth.

Dee's fingers flexed against his chest, and she gradually re­laxed the pressure she was exerting to keep him at bay. He felt so good, so very good. His skin was cool and damp; his chest corded with muscle. His heart was pounding wildly against her palm.

It had been this way since the first time they met; she touched him and he responded. That had always been Dee's undoing—his swift, honest reaction to her lightest touch. He had a deeply sensual nature that perfectly matched her own. The knowledge was a potent aphrodisiac.

He shuddered when she finally opened her lips to allow the hot penetration of his tongue. Dee moaned at the evidence of his tightly leashed control, and a tremor shook her to the soles of her feet.

One of Logan's arms enveloped her to draw her closer while his other hand cupped the back of her head. She flat­tened her hands against his chest, but stopped trying to push him away from her. His nipples harden against her palms, and her own nipples puckered painfully in response.

His mouth devoured hers, his tongue plundering the heated sweetness he found. Dee's tongue welcomed him in a ritual of mating until they were both gasping for breath.

Then Logan's head dipped and his strong arm arched her upward so that he could nuzzle her breasts with his face. His lips found a thrusting nipple beneath the silk. He sucked it into his mouth and lathed it with his tongue.

Dee cried out softly at the exquisite sensations racing from her breasts to her womb. She began to writhe in his arms, and her hips involuntarily thrust against the hardness of his arousal.

“Logan, stop!” she cried in a last-minute attempt to halt the avalanche of passion. “You have to stop it!”

His voice was thick and hoarse with arousal. “I can't stop it,” he growled in a mixture of raw desire and self-disgust.

“It's eating me alive! I wish to hell I could stop wanting you, but I can't.”

Her hands slid up his body until her fingers were locked tightly in his hair. His mouth searched until finding the bare skin where her shorts and top parted. He shoved the flimsy material out of his way and began to suck deeply on her nip­ples again. She uttered a soft cry at the exquisite pleasure.

Her fingers clenched in his hair as fire raged through her. The involuntary arching of her hips brought the softness of her body into searing contact with the hardness of his.

“Dee!” Logan's cry was hoarse with urgency. His mouth sought hers while he pressed her flat on her back and stretched himself along her length.

“It's not right!” she found the strength to insist before his mouth took hers again. Then she was drowning. Her heart and mind knew all the reasons she shouldn't make love with him, but she wanted him, body and soul.

Logan was burning, on fire with need. The blood pounded in his head and surged with violence through his veins to his loins. Everywhere their bodies touched, his flesh was scorched and straining.

Dee's mouth offered the hottest sweetness possible. His fin­gers clung to the silk of her hair while the silk of her pajamas and skin enticed him beyond reason. Her budded nipples in the plump cushion of her breasts were stabbing him to relent­less excitement. A sheer layer of silk was all that kept the straining strength of his arousal from the sheathe he so des­perately sought.

“Dee?” His tone asked and coaxed at the same time. His body thrust against hers in persistent demand.

Her arms were locked over his shoulders and around his neck. She gasped for breath as his mouth left hers just long enough to issue a plea. When she didn't respond, his lips cap­tured hers again. The kiss was deep, and hot, and needy.

Another low moan escaped her throat and was lost within their mouths. Logan moaned, too. His hands glided from her hair to the bare flesh beneath her top, then lower. He caught the elastic band on her shorts and peeled the offending fabric off her hips.

As his turgidly aroused flesh surged between her legs, she arched against it, giving him all the response he needed. He wanted to take her, to bury himself in her fast and hard, with­out thinking, just feeling. But he forced himself to be as slow and gentle as possible. He knew Dee wasn't sexually active, and despite the driving force of his need, he didn't hurt women.

She gasped as he filled her. Her eyes flew open and slammed into the silvery brilliance of Logan's gaze. The savage hunger startled her because he was keeping his body under such tight control. She felt an intense need to shatter that con­trol, and she dragged his head down to hers as she arched wildly beneath him.

Logan lost it. Every ounce of control was destroyed by her surrender and impatient demand. He dragged her closer and gave in to the need to lose himself in the hot, wet softness of her body.

Strangled cries of release were forced from both of them as they swiftly reached completion. Their arms tightened as they clutched each other closer. Then they clung as they fought the aftermath of such violent loving.

When Logan had regained some strength, he pulled Dee's top over her head and tossed it aside. Then he eased her in the water to cool and cleanse their overheated bodies.

She twisted her hair and pulled it over her shoulder so that it wouldn't get soaked. Other than that, she had very little energy and was content to relax against him. He supported them both at the shallow end of the pool until his strength returned.

The feel of her soft, pliant body in his arms soon had re­newed desire coursing over Logan's body. He'd been without her too long, was too hungry, to be sated with one quick cou­pling. He wanted more, right now, before Dee had time to reconstruct barriers.

Taking his time, he began to scatter kisses over her neck and shoulders. She trembled against him, and his kisses be­came more feverish. Within minutes, his body was hard and throbbing again. He leaned his back against the side of the pool, grasped Dee's hips, and eased her onto his straining flesh.

Satisfaction was longer coming this time, and they were both gasping for breath, their lungs tortured, before they were tem­porarily sated. Dee didn't have enough strength left to lift her arms, but Logan supported her as they sunk low enough in the shallow water to cool themselves.

The next time strength returned, he lifted her from the pool and carried her to her bedroom. He intended to put her to bed and leave, but the sight of her beautiful, naked body spread on tangled sheets set his body on fire again. He rested a knee on the bed beside her, and leaned over to steal another kiss.

One kiss wasn't enough. He wanted to take more time to caress her breasts with his hands and mouth. He wanted to feel her nipples tighten to rigid hardness under the stroke of his tongue. He wanted to feel the slide of her soft thighs around his own. He wanted to stay buried inside the pulsing heat of her body.

He wanted to hear her cry his name in passion. He wanted her begging and writhing beneath him. He needed to know that she was as much a victim of the passion as he was. He wanted hours, days or weeks, whatever it took.

The taste of her was like a drug in his veins. He couldn't resist. Didn't even want to try. Tomorrow, he promised him­self; tomorrow he'd regain some control and try to sort out his tangled emotions. But tonight, he was a man in need. To­night he was blind and deaf to everything but the wanting.

Dee's needs matched Logan's. She didn't want to think, or worry, or question what they were doing. She just wanted to share the passion and feel whole again. Logan was like a miss­ing part of her soul, she only felt whole when she was in his arms.

She wanted to wallow in the sensual and emotional satis­faction he supplied. Tomorrow she'd worry about the rightness or wrongness of their loving. Tomorrow would be soon enough for self-loathing and considering consequences.

Chapter Eight

A knock at the door woke Dee the next morning. She strug­gled to prop herself on her elbows and drowsily realized she was naked. While pulling the sheet up to cover herself, she glanced at the clock. A groan escaped as she noted that it was after ten o'clock, and she'd overslept for the first time in years. Breakfast was long past, and so was the normal starting time for her morning training session.

Another knock had her calling, “Who's there?”

“Just Mattie,” responded the housekeeper as she opened the door a few inches and poked in her head. “This is the first time you've missed breakfast, and I just wanted to make sure you're all right.”

Dee managed a sleepy smile for her. “I'm fine, thanks. I must have forgotten to set the alarm.” She didn't think so, but it was possible.

“No problem,” said Mattie. “Logan and Patti got back late last night, so she's sleeping in, too. I'll fix you both something to eat when you're ready. Logan said not to worry about the lessons, because he's gonna need Jake and Butch for most of the day”

The thought of Logan brought warmth creeping up Dee's chest, neck, and face. She dipped her head to hide the rush of color. “Was there anything else?” she asked.

“I was just gonna collect your dirty laundry, but I don't need to unless you want something cleaned today.”

“No, there's nothing to worry about, but thanks,” said Dee. Her hair was a tangled mess, so she used one hand to drag it off of her face, being careful not to let the sheet slip from her other hand.

“Then I'll see you later. Just come on out to the kitchen when you're ready to eat,” the housekeeper added as she closed the door.

Dee collapsed backward on the bed and stared at the ceiling in numbed shock. Memories of the previous night made her go hot all over, then totally cold. She and Logan had made love for hours. How could she have done it? How could she have been so stupid? So totally irresponsible?

Logan had caught her unaware and vulnerable. She hadn't had time to erect her usual defenses against his potent virility. It had been too long, she'd missed him too much, and they'd both been too needy.

Dee wanted to lay all the blame on him, but she knew she was equally guilty. She'd wanted him just as badly as he'd wanted her, and they'd both succumbed to the desire. What in the world was she supposed to do now? How was a woman supposed to react in such a situation?

They'd made love for hours last night—repeated, unpro­tected sex. Was she a complete fool? What in God's name would she do if she was pregnant? How could she bear to carry another child so soon after losing her first?

She'd taken the same risk the first time she and Logan had been together because everything had seemed so right, so ut­terly perfect. She hadn't felt any uneasiness or shame about sharing his bed then, but this was different.

Back then, she'd been relatively innocent and hopelessly in love. She couldn't claim either now. She felt like the last six months had aged her beyond her years, yet her behavior last night had been immature and negligent. Was she becoming one of those people who allowed sex to control every aspect of their lives?

Kicking the sheets aside in agitation, she climbed from bed. Her body was stiff and sore from hours of Logan's intense lov­ing. After months of abstinence, his passionate, unselfish atten­tions had left her exhausted and had taken a toll.

As soon as she entered the bathroom, Dee saw her pink pajamas on top of the hamper. Logan had obviously brought them from the pool. She didn't know if he could be credited for thoughtfulness on her account or a selfish desire to keep everyone in the household from knowing how intimate their relationship was.

It didn't really matter, Dee thought as she stood under the pounding spray of the shower. What was done was done. She couldn't change it, but she could make sure it didn't happen again.

She shampooed the chlorine from her hair and scrubbed every trace of Logan's loving from her body. When she was finished, she felt refreshed and in better control of herself. She decided to forget last night and make sure there was no repeat performance.

Since arriving at the Circle B's, she'd dressed in her Prescott uniform each day, always aware that Logan could arrive home at any moment. She was serious about proving her profession­alism, but today she was too tired and irritable to consider the uniform. She'd already missed her morning lessons, so she donned a pair of tan shorts and a sleeveless blouse in a tan and green floral print.

Dee knew it would take quite a while for her hair to dry, even after a few minutes with the blow dryer. She was tempted to leave it loose, but decided to braid it. Logan hated for her to restrain it in any fashion, but she wasn't going to pander him. It was bad enough that she remembered every sweet word he'd ever whispered while stroking her hair.

When she started to make her bed, Dee noticed that it had already been straightened a little. She and Logan had com­pletely destroyed it, so she assumed, he'd made some reparation before leaving her.

When had he gone? Had he left her as soon as she'd fallen to sleep, or had he awakened early and slipped from the room without waking her? Was he sharing the same doubts right now or was he feeling smug? Was he as drained as she was? Or was he used to long hours of strenuous sex?

Dee left her bedroom and headed for the kitchen. She sin­cerely hoped he didn't think her moment of weakness would set a precedent for her remaining stay in his home. She couldn't correct last night's mistake, but as she began her day, she vowed that it wouldn't happen again.

Logan's train of thought followed just the opposite pattern all morning. After having Dee in his arms for most of the night, his appetite was more than whetted. He ached. One night wasn't nearly enough. He wanted her with him all the time.

With the need came a new determination. He'd taken her by surprise last night, but she'd be quick to build up the defenses again. Despite the fact that she was a sensual, sexy lady, she was also stubborn.

He was the only man in her life. He was her first and only lover, and he intended to keep it that way. He would never forgive her for destroying their baby, but he could damned well enjoy her body.

Tension coiled low in his loins at the thought. He'd awakened with her in his arms and had wanted her again, but had forced himself to leave her bed. She was too addictive, and he didn't like the way she threatened his control.

As the morning hours passed, he couldn't help but wonder if she'd conceived another child during the night. The thought brought a thrill of satisfaction, even though he was still furious with her. Their loving had been totally unplanned. They hadn't done anything to prevent a pregnancy unless she'd gone on the pill after the first one.

So it was a possibility. Too often in the past week he'd found himself thinking of babies. He'd never been one to fantasize, but he wanted a family, and lately he'd been visualizing a son who shared his and Dee's characteristics. Sometimes his mind would conjure images of baby girls, three of them with heads full of blond curls.

“Hey, boss!” Jake's shout drew him out of his introspec­tion. Even though they were working together, they had to yell over the sound of machinery. They'd been baling and loading hay most of the morning, but they were finishing their last load

“Yeah?”

“You want me to take this one in?”

Butch was driving the tractor pulling the baler while Jake and Logan stacked the hay on the wagon. The two older men had been taking turns pulling wagons back to the barn, where more hired hands were doing the unloading.

“I'll drive,” Logan replied, jumping from the wagon to change the hitch from the baler to the second tractor. Jake would ride the wagon, and Butch would follow with the rest of the equipment.

They were all hot, tired, and dirty. Their shirts had been stripped off hours ago. Dust and hay clung to their bared torsos, and as soon as the last load was stored in one of the smaller barns, Logan sent the men on lunch break while he headed for the washroom in the big barn.

He paused just inside the door to let his eyes adjust to the dim lighting, but when he started to turn toward the water pump, he halted in his tracks at the sound of light, feminine laughter. It wasn't just any feminine laughter; it was Dee's, and the sound slammed into him like a fist.

Her laughter was so soft and sexy, it mesmerized him. He'd heard it often when they'd been lovers, and the sound was burned into his memory. His body reacted immediately to the reminder.

He strained to pinpoint her exact location, and the next sound he heard was a husky chuckle of sensual delight. His muscles clenched.

A small noise above him had Logan lifting his eyes to the hay loft. It sounded as though Dee was squirming in the hay, giggling as someone teased or tickled her. The idea brought a swift surge of black, raging jealousy.

Who the hell was she playing with in the hayloft? Every man on the farm had been helping him work the hay. None of the men could have gotten to the barn before he did, so who was with Dee? Had she met someone at his barbecue? Someone who could have enticed her to come back?

He'd kill him, whoever he was. He'd use his bare hands to strangle the life out of any man who touched her. With that thought, Logan took the few steps up the wooden ladder to the loft. His eyes were as hot as molten steel as his head topped the last rung, and he saw Dee.

She was sprawled in loose hay with her legs spread in front of her and her back propped against more bales of hay. Her eyes were shining with delight, and she continued to giggle while halfheartedly fighting-off an attack by six frisky kittens.

Logan's fury was swiftly replaced by a rush of hot desire. Her husky laughter did strange things to his insides. She looked sexily disheveled and so completely irresistible that he envied the kittens crawling all over her.

Long tendrils of hair had escaped her braid to curl around her flushed face. The top few buttons of her blouse were un­done, exposing creamy skin and the curve of her breasts. Her eyes sparkled with unadulterated delight as the kittens vied for her attention.

“Easy there, you little monster,” she gently scolded one who was using her breast as a stepping stone. “Sheathe your claws.”

She grabbed the offending kitten and gently pried his claws from the fabric of her blouse. Then she held him close to her face and cooed to him as she rubbed her cheek against the softness of his fluffy coat.

Logan felt like someone had kicked him in the gut. Every muscle in his body knotted as he watched her cuddle each of the kittens. Dee's inherent sensuality had always excited him more than other women's blatant sexuality.

“I wonder if anyone would mind if I named you Trouble,” she murmured to the squirming calico who'd become her favorite of the litter. He had a penchant for mischief. He was the runt, but made up for size with spirit, energy, and unending curiosity. As soon as she let go of him, he tried to dive inside the collar of her blouse to explore.

“Little heathen!” she chided, grabbing him before he could sink his claws into her flesh. At the same time, she sensed Logan's presence, and her gaze flew to his. There was no mistaking the dark glitter of desire she saw there.

Her body's response to him was instant and intense. The light was dim in the loft, and all she could see of him was his head and shoulders, but that was enough to set her pulse racing. She fought to conceal the fierce excitement he generated.

Logan watched the sparkle in her eyes die, and something inside of him died a little with it. She couldn't have made her opinion of him any more clear. All the joy and innocence left her expression to be replaced by wariness.

Her reaction and his response to it dampened his desire and renewed his anger. The woman was a menace to his peace of mind, but he wasn't going to let her play havoc on his emotions. What he wanted from Dee was strictly physical.

“If I'd known you wanted to romp in the hay, I'd have been happy to oblige you,” he taunted in a deliberate attempt to annoy her.

He succeeded. Dee clenched her teeth in annoyance and quickly straightened her blouse. Was this the type of treatment she could expect for the next few weeks? Was Logan hoping to enjoy her body whenever he wanted, then use demeaning sexual innuendo to get even with her for all the wrong he thought she'd done him?

She decided to ignore his statement and returned her attention to the kittens. Five of them were settling down for a nap. She laid the runt down beside them, and stroked his back while he settled down, too.

Her deliberate snub inflamed Logan. He wanted to climb into the loft and demand her full attention, but he didn't dare. If he touched her now, he wouldn't be content with anything less than hard, pounding sex. The memories of last night were still too potent, and he'd been in a state of semi-arousal all morning.

“Are you going to stay up here all day?” he asked in a less offensive tone.

Dee shot a wary glance at him. “Just 'til they're settled. They're still babies, and they need their sleep.”

The mention of babies was a mistake. Dee realized it as soon as she saw Logan's features harden. She felt a pang for having reminded them both of the child they'd lost.

“Too bad you didn't feel so protective of ours,” he ground out roughly.

Dee lowered her lashes to hide the pain his words inflicted. She could correct his impression that she'd aborted their baby, but she didn't have the heart to try. She selfishly wanted him to realize that she wasn't capable of doing such a thing. All the explanations in the world were useless unless he could give her the faith and respect that came with true love.

Whatever she felt about his harsh comment would remain a mystery to Logan because Dee was effectively shutting him out again. Her defensive barriers were firmly in place, but he could only blame himself. He'd never known how to handle her or her incredible sensitivity.

Sometimes she was fierce, and he could deal with that as­pect of her character. But when she withdrew inside herself, he didn't know how to reach her. He ended up making them both furious.

“It's lunch time,” he finally declared in a neutral tone.

“I just ate,” she said, rising to her knees and brushing the hay off her clothing. She was ready to leave, but didn't want to move toward the ladder while he was still on it.

After another minute of watching her tidy her clothes, Logan realized that she was stalling. He wanted to make sure she got down the ladder, and she wanted him out of her way.

“Come on,” he said. “You might have eaten, but I'm starved, and I have hay all over me. I'll help you down and then I can wash off.”

She could see bits and pieces of hay clinging to the sweat-dampened expanse of his shoulders and chest. Hours of work in the hot sun had turned his flesh to bronze, and his arm muscles rippled when he gripped the top of the ladder.

She didn't want his help. She didn't want him touching her, even impersonally. He was too much of a temptation, and her body was highly attuned to his presence. Still, she knew they could spend the rest of the day in a stubborn standoff if she refused.

“I'm coming if you'll get out of my way,” she finally said, moving closer.

Logan gave her a mocking glance and started down the ladder. His eyes never left her as she turned her backside to him to follow. His body tightened at the sight of her long, bare legs and supple thighs exposed by the cut of her shorts.

Once his feet touched the floor, he stepped away from the ladder, but moved forward again as soon as Dee's feet touched the last rung. Even as he cursed himself for stupidity, his arms went around her, trapping her in their circle as he grasped hold of either side of the ladder. He was too dirty and sweaty to press himself against her, but he held her captive in his arms.

Her breath caught as she felt the heat of him against her back. “Logan,” she warned.

“I know,” he whispered as he buried his face in the curve of her shoulder. “I know I shouldn't touch you,” he growled near her ear. His lips sought the pulse at the back of her neck and he sucked her tender flesh. “I know we drive each other crazy,” he added, feeling her shudder.

“You're poison,” he accused roughly, “but you're in my blood, and I can't get enough of you. You might as well stop fighting it.”

“No!” she managed in a gruff whisper as goose bumps shivered over her body. “Last night was a mistake—a stupid, irresponsible mistake.”

Her words sent a little thrill over Logan. He was willing to bet she wasn't on the pill, and that meant she could already have conceived. “Because we needed each other so much, or because we didn't use any protection?”

“Both!” Dee declared huskily. “It's insane to want each other when we don't even like each other. And it's even more insane to take that kind of risk.”

Logan wasn't taking any risks. He knew exactly what he wanted; her pregnant with his child. “What's insane is trying to ignore something that's stronger than both of us.”

His decisive tone sent a wave of desperation over Dee. If he wasn't interested in keeping some distance between them, that meant she was on her own. He wouldn't help her fight the attraction, and she wasn't sure she could fight it by herself.

“Turn around and kiss me,” Logan commanded, his voice low and thick with arousal. Just being close to Dee and smelling her sweetness was more enticement than he could ignore.

“No!” she argued, holding herself rigid within the circle of his arms.

“I'm filthy,” he countered while gently thrusting his hips against her buttocks, “but if you don't make the first move, I'm going to turn you around and drag you as close to me as possible.”

Dee felt his hardness and her knees grew weak. She was holding herself as rigid as possible, but she started to tremble when he issued his gruff threat. It was too easy to imagine herself crushed against his naked, sun-baked chest. Her breasts swelled at the thought, but she forced herself to breathe deeply and control her wanton desires.

“Dee,” he challenged with increased warning. “I want your mouth. Either give it to me, or I'll take it.”

Frustration had her turning in his arms, but she planted her hands on his chest and kept a careful distance between their bodies. Her eyes flared with irritation as they locked with his, but the open hunger she found caught at her breath.

“You're a fool for wanting to further this relationship,” she charged.

He ignored the warning. “Kiss me.”

Didn't the man ever hear anything he didn't want to hear? “Logan! No!”

“I want your mouth,” he insisted. “I want a whole helluva lot more, but I want your mouth first.”

Didn't he know the meaning of the word no? “It's not that easy,” she argued, trying to make him see sense.

“If it's too hard for you to handle,” he growled, “then I'll take care of it.”

His mouth swooped down on hers. His lips were hot and his tongue swiftly probed her lips for access to deeper targets. Dee decided to let him have his kiss, but to remain completely detached. Maybe then he'd learn that she wasn't interested in playing games with him.

Logan got wise to her quickly. “If you don't kiss me back,” he warned while he nipped her lips. “Then I'm going to have to get really serious and use more than my mouth to convince you.”

“You're dirty and you smell bad.”

He chuckled at her attempt to discourage him. “I know, and you're going to be just as bad if you don't cooperate.”

Finally, in aggravation, Dee grasped his hard head between her hands and slammed her mouth against his. For an instant they warred, tight lips against tighter lips. But she couldn't fight him for very long. His tongue plunged through her teeth to caress her tongue. His kisses were deep, delving, and addicting. She always forgot all her complaints when he kissed her.

As the kiss lengthened, she slowly relaxed, and her body gravitated closer to his. He shifted his hands from the rungs of the ladder and grasped her forearms, not wanting her any closer while his control was so fragile or he'd soon be wanting to completely lose himself in her softness.

They kissed long and deep until they heard someone shout­ing for Logan. It was lunch time, and he dimly realized Jake was calling him to eat.

They broke off their kiss and each took a step backward, breathing roughly. Neither could believe how quickly the other made them lose control or how hard it was to resist each other.

Logan wanted Dee all to himself for about a month. A night or two, a week or two, wouldn't be nearly enough. He wanted unlimited time to sate himself with her.

Dee wanted distance between them. She didn't like being reminded of how little control she had where he was concerned. She didn't like being reminded of her weakness for his loving, and she wasn't a risk-taker.

“This has to stop,” she insisted huskily.

“Why?” he challenged.

“Why?” she repeated in amazement. “You know all the rea­sons why!”

Logan turned toward the pump and washbasin. “We're both consenting adults,” he reminded.

Dee clenched her teeth and locked her hands into fists. She watched him sluice water over his face, chest, and arms, then roughly rub himself dry. She struggled for a reasonable re­sponse to his offhand declaration.

“Whatever hopes we had for a future were destroyed,” she finally managed. “I don't want a casual affair, and I don't want to risk another pregnancy.”

“I wouldn't call what we have casual,” he replied in a low drawl. He turned back to Dee and pinned her with his eyes. “And it's a little late to worry about conception. You could already be pregnant.”

Dee went pale at the thought. She searched his face, but couldn't decide how he felt about the possibility. He didn't seem overly concerned.

“Doesn't that worry you?” she asked in a suspicious tone.

Logan didn't hesitate. “I don't care if you get pregnant. I want a child.”

She sucked in a harsh breath. “You can't mean that.”

“I mean it.”

“And you think I'm willing to have a baby just because you'd like one?” Her tone and expression were shocked, her eyes wide with disbelief.

His features hardened. “I'm damned sure you wouldn't abort another baby of mine.”

Dee couldn't believe what she was hearing. He didn't pretend to love her, want to marry her, or have a family. He wasn't implying that their relationship had any future. He just wanted her to give him a child.

Had he deliberately seduced her with the hope that she'd get pregnant? “What makes you think I'm not on birth control pills?” she snapped.

“You aren't, are you?”

She refused to verify his arrogant assumption. Neither would she lie.

Logan smiled at her stubborn refusal to respond. Her silence was all the answer he needed. They both knew that she could already be pregnant.

“I don't guess there's anything more to say on the subject,” he declared, heading for the door.

Dee followed and grabbed his arm to stop him. “Logan!” she snapped. She blinked as they stepped into the sunlight and quickly pulled her hand from his arm.

“Dee?” he queried maddeningly.

“Don't you walk away from me,” she snapped. “I'm not about to accept this attitude of yours.”

One of his brows rose in arrogant response. “What do you plan to do about it?” he taunted.

Her eyes narrowed and her temper flared. “If I were a man, I might consider beating the hell out of you!”

Logan roared with laughter. He had to give her credit for spunk. He was glad that all her fiery passion wasn't limited to sex. It increased the chances that their child would be strong-spirited.

His laughter didn't do anything to lessen her outrage. “You're pretty damned sure of yourself, aren't you?” she chal­lenged. But her temper was rapidly dissolving into pain. “Well I've got news for you, I intend to fulfill my contract and then I'm leaving, whether or not I'm pregnant. And there's absolutely nothing you can do to stop me.”

The threat had Logan's eyes narrowing again. “You'll never keep me from claiming another child,” he warned. “If you try, I'll have you in court so fast it'll make your head spin.”

Dee didn't attempt a response. The two of them just glared at each other for long, tension-filled minutes. Each was convinced they'd been wronged by the other, and neither was prepared to compromise.

Then Jake was calling for Logan again. Mattie had fixed lunch for all the hands, and they were waiting for him. He turned abruptly and left her standing alone in the barnyard.

She watched him stride toward the house, her emotions in total chaos.

Chapter Nine

Days passed with Logan and Dee carefully avoiding each other. They shared meals, but made a point not to be alone at any time. They maintained an attitude of polite indifference when in the company of other members of the household, or when they accidentally ran into each other on the farm property.

Logan didn't stop wanting Dee, but he needed to prove to himself that he could master the desire. He didn't like the power she had over him, nor his own lack of control when he was with her.

Thoughts of her accompanied him everywhere, day and night. He couldn't stop thinking about the baby she'd aborted. It was like an open wound that festered, yet he couldn't reconcile his image of Dee with the cold-hearted woman he'd labeled her.

He watched as she gradually charmed every man, woman, and animal on his property. He saw the genuine pleasure in her eyes when she cuddled a kitten, stroked a horse's neck, or fussed over his aging dog. If she was faking her caring attitude, it was the best performance he'd ever seen. She really seemed to thrive in his world.

And he was making some progress in her world, but slowly and painfully. He couldn't sleep, so he forced himself to spend more time at the hangar and review all her training information. He still broke out in a cold sweat when he took the controls of the simulator in his hands, but the sick fear wasn't as bad as it once had been. It would still be a long time before he was comfortable with piloting again.

Dee was relieved that he didn't challenge her decision to keep a safe distance between them. She found it difficult enough being exposed to him on a daily basis. Instead of learning things about him that she didn't like, she found too many things she liked too much.

He was courteous, thoughtful, and hard-working. He wasn't a particularly demonstrative man, but his love for his sister was obvious, as was his respect and affection for Mattie. He was an opinionated boss, but he listened to complaints and suggestions from his employees.

He was gentle with and knowledgeable about his livestock. Whenever Dee saw him working with the horses, she was amazed by his endless patience. The more she saw of him, the more confused she became. He wasn't living up to her opinion that he was a callous jerk.

They never discussed her work. Jake and Butch ate a lot of meals with the family, and they often enthused about their training, sharing their progress. Logan listened, but made no comments.

Discussions of the flight training seemed to make Patti and Mattie uncomfortable. Dee could sense their unease whenever the subject arose, but she couldn't understand what prompted their tension.

She couldn't gauge Logan's reactions at all. He seemed to block out all emotion when everyone else talked about flying. She couldn't help but wonder if his attitude had anything to do with his original demand that she give up her career.

If he hated the idea of piloting, then why had he decided to buy a plane and pay to have his men trained to fly it? She wondered if he had decided against learning himself, or if he intended to take instruction elsewhere.

Logan never came to the hangar when she was working with Butch and Jake, yet she sensed that he spent time in her makeshift classroom when she wasn't there. She even suspected that he used the flight simulator, but she didn't have any evidence.

For all she knew, Butch or Jake could be acting as a go-between and repeating her instructions to Logan. It wouldn't do him much good in accumulating ground or flight hours, but he could still learn that way.

Since he'd come home from his buying trip, Dee had become more reserved. She wasn't quite as comfortable with Mattie, Butch, or Jake. They seemed to accept the fact without being offended. She still tried to be as helpful as possible, yet she couldn't totally relax with so much tension between herself and Logan.

One thing that didn't change was her affinity with the various farm animals. She was rarely outdoors without a parade of cats and kittens following in her footsteps. The horses weren't any less devoted, just restricted by gates and fences. When she was near, they gave her their undivided attention. Old Ace even made an effort to spend time with her when he wasn't tagging after Logan or sleeping under his favorite tree.

Dee always managed to give Ace special attention. She liked the old dog and had learned how much he meant to Logan.

She tried to convince herself that Logan's affection for the pet had nothing to do with her concern for the aging dog, but she couldn't be sure.

Whenever she was near the Lab, she sensed that he didn't have much time left, and her heart went out to him. His life had been full, but it was waning. She feared the end was near, yet she didn't sense that he was sick or suffering in any way.

On the second Friday of her stay in Kentucky, shortly after her morning training session, Dee found Ace lying on the sidewalk near the kitchen door. Since he preferred the comfort of the shade during the daytime, she was surprised to see him lying in the fall sun.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as she knelt down to pet him. As soon as she touched his head, she knew what was wrong. He barely found the strength to open his big brown eyes, and she realized he was dying.

“Mattie!” Dee couldn't quite contain the note of panic in her voice. “Mattie!”

Patti came to the back door in response to Dee's call. “She's upstairs. What's wrong?”

“It's Ace,” Dee said, glancing at the other woman with pained eyes, then returning her attention to the dog.

Patti didn't hesitate. “I'll call the vet.

“No!” Dee's tone was unusually insistent. All she wanted was to move Ace out of the sun, and he was too heavy for her to lift. “Just get Logan.”

“But—”

“Please!”

Patti conceded. “He's on the phone. I'll get him.”

Dee continued to stroke the dog's head while crooning to him in a soothing tone. He heaved a sigh and closed his eyes, but perked up a little at the sound of Logan's voice.

He and Patti came outside. “What's wrong?”

Dee lifted her eyes and there was a wealth of sympathy in their turquoise depths as they locked with his. “He's dying.” She responded as gently as possible.

Logan studied the concern etched on her features. He crouched down beside her and placed a hand on the Lab's head.

“What's wrong, old buddy?”

Ace managed to thump his tail for his master, but he didn't open his eyes.

“Why didn't you want Patti to call the vet?”

“He doesn't have that much time.” She wasn't sure how she knew that, but she was sure.

“I don't want him to suffer,” Logan's voice was a little hoarse.

“He's not suffering, I promise,” Dee insisted.

Logan looked her directly in the eyes. They were closer than they'd been for days, and his gaze was probing. “How do you know?” he demanded.

How could she help him understand? This was beyond her experience, so how could she console Logan? “I can't explain it, but I know he's not in any pain. He's just very weak and tired. He needs you and his favorite spot under the oak tree.”

Her voice quavered a little and tears welled in her eyes. Logan wasn't sure why he trusted her, but he didn't argue or question her instinctive knowledge.

“Thanks,” he said softly. “I'll take care of him.” He carefully scooped the big dog into his arms, speaking quietly to his old friend.

Patti and Dee patted Ace's head and said their good-byes, then watched as Logan carried him to the backyard. Dee's heart was in her eyes, but she didn't follow. When Logan disap­peared from sight, she glanced at Patti.

Both of them had to look through a veil of tears. The ob­vious tension between Dee and Logan had kept the two women from becoming close friends, but they'd grown fond of each other. Neither of them felt the need to apologize for the out­pouring of emotion.

“How did you know?” asked Patti, sniffing.

Dee could only shrug her shoulders and swipe at the tears that streamed down her cheeks. “Just intuition, I guess. It's not something I can explain.”

“I've watched you with the other animals. I've never seen anything quite like it,” said Patti as she scrutinized Dee. “Logan is the best handler I've ever watched and the animals respect him, but it's different with you. You have a special gift, don't you?”

Dee's eyes widened in alarm. She was never really comfort­able discussing her ESP, and she'd never mentioned it to Logan. She didn't want anyone to start asking questions.

When she failed to respond, Patti apologized. “I'm sorry. I have no right to pry into your personal affairs. I'm just one of those nosy psychology majors who likes prying into peo­ples' psyches. Logan tells me to leave his psyche alone, so you're welcome to tell do the same.”

Dee actually flinched at learning that Patti was a student of psychology. Belle had expended a great deal of effort over the years to keep her away from people who wanted to delve deeper into her psychological makeup.

She didn't want to alienate Patti, but she didn't know how to answer her question. “Maybe it would help if you'd define gift,” she said.

“I was curious to know if your sensitivity applies to humans as well as animals.”

That's what Dee had dreaded most. “I'm sometimes very sensitive to what my sisters are feeling,” she admitted.

“I guess that's not too surprising, considering you're triplets.”

“I think it's fairly common,” she said. ''My sisters and I have varying degrees of sensitivity to varying degrees of emotion. I know that's hard to categorize,” she added with a smile, “but it's something we've accepted as normal for most our lives.”

“Could I ask one more little question?” Patti teased, aware of Dee's disinclination to discuss her sensory perception.

Dee managed to return her smile. “It depends on the question.”

Patti pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, then said, “It's about you and Logan.”

Dee was shaking her head before the question was verbalized.

“Okay, I'll mind my own business. I hate to do it, but I guess I'll manage,” Patti said on a sigh, then contradicted herself. “I just wondered if you can read his emotions, too.”

Dee kept shaking her head. “I don't mind answering that one. The answer's no. Something about his chemistry reacts negatively with mine. I've decided we're totally incompatible.”

That made Patti chuckle and shake her head. “You and Logan might have some major problems, but I'd bet my last dollar that chemistry isn't involved. I've never seen two people with such strong vibrations bouncing between them.”

Dee frowned and let the subject drop. It was apparent that she didn't want to discuss the topic. By mutual agreement the two women headed into the house. They found Mattie in the kitchen, explained what was happening with Ace, and men helped prepare lunch.

Dee couldn't get Patti's statement out of her mind. She won­dered if everyone on the Circle B's was speculating about her and Logan. If so, were they wondering what was the matter with her? They all seemed to think Logan was a saint, so what did that make her? A sinner? A woman scorned?

What would they think if they knew the whole truth? What if they were to learn Logan's version of the truth? Would they all hate her and label her a monster if they believed she'd aborted his child?

Dee was surprised at how much she cared what the others thought. She was learning to care for them all, and she'd didn't want them to think as badly of her as Logan did.

She found herself speculating on how the Circle B's family would perceive her if they learned about her ESP. Would they think her a freak? A weirdo? Would they shy away from her, or would they be able to understand? Would Logan hate her even more for not telling him in the very beginning?

Until now, she'd been getting mixed, but favorable reactions from his family and staff. She knew Butch had a crush on her, so she was careful not to encourage him on a personal level. Jake found her attractive, but wasn't interested in pur­suing the attraction.

Patti liked her, when she wasn't feeling possessive or protec­tive about her brother. The younger woman was very much in love with Jake and a little jealous of the time he spent with Dee.

Those were all normal reactions, and didn't alarm Dee.

Mattie and the rest of the employees had accepted her without qualms, which pleased her enormously. She just didn't want to risk that acceptance.

Her main concern was to keep the truth from Logan. Dee was relieved that he didn't question her about her sensitivity to Ace's situation, especially since the old dog died within a few minutes of Logan placing him under his favorite shade tree. She thought Logan might be too upset to broach the subject, and she didn't offer any explanations.

The next day was Saturday, but Dee continued her classes through the weekend and there was nothing special to mark the end of the workweek. She preferred it that way because she was happier when she was busy.

Patti coaxed Jake into taking her to see a movie Saturday evening and Mattie retired to her apartment early. So Dee did the same. She wasn't really sleepy, but she went to bed early so that she wouldn't risk an accidental meeting with Logan.

She didn't know how long she'd been sleeping when she awakened in alarm. At first, she couldn't pinpoint a problem, but she forced herself to relax and concentrate. After a few minutes, she realized that her acute feelings of anxiety were stemming from one of her sisters.

Sharla came to mind first, because she'd been in grave dan­ger once when she'd piloted for Reed. But this was different. Dee dragged her hands through her hair and jumped out of bed in agitation. She paced the room until the full extent of the sensations had time to register.

Then she knew it was Carlie.

Carlie was in trouble, trapped and frightened. Dee didn't like the waves of negative emotion pouring over her. She hoped it was just a bad dream, but she knew she had to reach her sister or she'd never be able to calm her own rioting nerves. Grabbing a short, satin robe, she wrapped it around herself and left the bedroom in search of a phone.

She was a few feet from the kitchen door when she heard someone in the kitchen. She didn't want to explain herself, so she quickly turned and headed for Logan's office. It was late, and no one was likely to bother her there.

The front of the house was dark except for the light shining from the porch, but Dee made her way without switching on any other source of light. The office was in darkness, but she could see well enough as she headed straight for the phone on his desk.

She called Carlie’s number first, but wasn't really surprised when she didn't get an answer. She didn't want to alarm her parents if it wasn't necessary, so she dialed Sharla's number next.

“Come on, Sharla, please be home,” she whispered as the third and then fourth ring sounded in her ear.

“Hello,” Sharla's drowsy voice came over the line.

Sharla was never too alert when she woke from a deep sleep, but Dee hoped she would wake up fast. “Sharla, it's Dee. Wake up and pay attention.”

“You're in Kentucky,” her sister informed her.

Dee moaned. “Sharla, are you alone?”

“Huh uh.”

“Is Reed there?”

“Uh huh.”

“Give him the phone.”

Dee heard mumbling. The next voice she heard was that of her future brother-in-law. Reed's tone wasn't the least bit drowsy. “What's up?”

“It's Carlie,” Dee said in a rush of relief. “I was hoping she was home, but I couldn't reach her by phone.”

“She went out earlier and probably hasn't gotten back.”

“Damn,” Dee whispered. “I was afraid of that.”

Reed's tone grew deeper. “What's wrong?”

“I'm not sure, but I think she's in trouble—serious trouble.” Dee's tone grew more urgent as increasing waves of emotion washed over her. “I think she's somewhere she doesn't want to be and that somebody's trying to hurt her.”

Reed swore and Sharla wrenched the phone from him. She'd heard Dee and was wide-awake now and demanding details. “Can you tell us where she is?”

“I was hoping you could tell me.”

“She had a call earlier, then said she was going to meet a friend downtown. She's been gone a few hours.”

“You don't know who the friend was?”

“No.”

“Or where she was going?”

“No,” Sharla repeated again. “What are you feeling?”

Dee closed her eyes and concentrated harder. After a short time, she responded. “It feels like she's surrounded by people, but nobody can hear her. She's getting really scared!” The last words grew more anxious. “You've got to find her!”

“Help us!” Sharla insisted in increasing alarm. She had more faith in Dee's perception than even Dee herself. “Tell me where to look.”

“I can't see anything!” Dee argued. “I can only feel. She's closed in a small part of a bigger building. Someone's with her, but the people all around her aren't aware that she's in trouble.”

“Maybe she's at a party at someone's house,” Sharla suggested.

“It's bigger than that.”

“How about a hotel?” Reed suggested. Both he and Sharla were listening to her every word.

“Yes!” Dee agreed with enthusiasm. “That must be it. It feels right. But it must be a really big one.”

“There's a few dozen of them in D.C.,” Sharla reminded, her tone rough with worry. “How are we going to find the right one?”

“Could you check Carlie's room? Maybe she wrote down the name of the hotel or the person she got the call from.”

Dee heard noises and the sound of a door closing.

“Reed went to check,” Sharla told her. “Try to concentrate. Maybe you can get more details.”

Dee clutched the telephone receiver in one hand and dragged her other hand through her hair in agitation. “I don't want to concentrate,” she grumbled. “Every time I concentrate, I feel Carlie growing more agitated.” Tears filled her eyes and the quaver in her voice expressed how badly she was reacting to her sister's distress.

“Please, Dee,” Sharla continued in an effort to calm her. “I know it must be hard on you, but the more we know, the faster we can get help to Carlie. Do you think her life is in danger? Has she been mugged or kidnapped?”

Dee slowly allowed herself to slip to the floor. She leaned her back against Logan's desk and rested her head on her knees while shifting her total concentration to Carlie. She felt anger, humiliation and increasing fear. There were waves of desperation, and a feeling of being trapped. Then there was pain. Familiar pain.

Dee flinched. “Familiar pain,” she mumbled into the receiver.

“Familiar?” Sharla gasped. “You mean something that's happened to her before?”

“Familiar,” was all Dee could manage.

“Bill!” Sharla yelled into the phone. “Bill's the only one who ever deliberately hurt Carlie. He's never accepted the fact that she left him, and we know he's capable of hurting her.”

The instant Dee heard her ex-brother-in-law's name, all her impressions of an attacker solidified, and she was certain. “Yes. She's with Bill, and he's scaring her.”

There were more muffled sounds from Sharla's end, then she came back on the line. “Reed found me word Hilton written on a notepad by Carlie's phone,” she said, “but no name or address.”

“How many Hiltons in D.C.?” Dee fretted.

“Too many if Carlie's in trouble.”

Reed's voice came back over the line. “We're going to hang up now and call Bill's airline. Maybe somebody there will know where he's staying while he's in town.”

“Okay, but you'll call me right back?” Dee insisted. Then she realized that the ringing of the phone might disturb everyone in the Bradford household. “No, wait, I'd better call you.” She was too upset to make explanations.

In the next instant, Logan's hand reached to take the receiver from Dee. She was so startled that she didn't even struggle.

“This is Bradford. Call as soon as you know anything or if we can help.”

“We will,” Sharla promised. “Take care of Dee.”

The connection was broken and Logan replaced the receiver. He reached down and pulled Dee to her feet. She was trembling, so he lifted her in his arms and moved to the chair behind his desk. He sat down and propped his bare feet on the desk, cradling her in his lap.

She wrapped her arms around his torso and clung to him with all her strength. He was big and warm and solid. She couldn't stop the tremors that shook her body, and she was too upset to reject the comfort he offered.

She'd been sick with worry last month when Sharla’s life was in danger, but she'd known Reed was with her and would protect her with his life. This was much worse. The sensual alarm was more intense. She knew Carlie was alone and growing more frightened every minute.

Logan tightened his grip on Dee every time he felt another tremor pass over her. She seemed so fragile and helpless. Her distress roused all his protective instincts. He didn't want to care so much, but there wasn't really any choice. She badly needed support.

A half an hour passed without a word between them. Dee pressed her face against his chest and continued to shudder at intervals. Her breathing grew rough and an occasional sob rose from her chest. Logan could feel her anguish, but didn't know what else to do.

He held her close and stroked her hair while trying to reassure her. The words he whispered to her were more like the soft, crooning words of a lover, but he didn't know what else to say.

He wanted to understand what was happening. He'd been sitting in his office dreading another sleepless night, when she'd appeared and made her frantic call home. Despite hearing every word of her conversation, he still couldn't comprehend it all.

He'd heard of twins and triplets who instinctively knew when a sibling was in trouble, but he'd never met anyone with that kind of sensitivity. Dee wasn't just aware of Carlie's distress, she was experiencing it.

He thought about the way she'd handled the situation with Ace. He'd thought of little else since he'd buried his old pet.

Dee had understood. She'd felt his grief and shared it. She'd known what was best.

Was she even more sensitive about people? Or was it just with her sisters? Did they share a sort of mental telepathy? Was Dee psychic? Did she have visions? Could she predict the future? Did she read minds? The thought boggled his mind. He had no experience with the phenomenon of extrasensory perception.

Another half hour passed, and Dee's breathing began to quiet. She gradually relaxed. Her grip on him eased, and Logan felt the tension draining from her body.

Chapter Ten

“Is it over?” Logan asked softly.

Dee took a deep breath. She felt drained, but relieved. “She's safe now.”

It was a good while later before the phone rang. He stretched to pick up the receiver and then placed it where they could both hear. “Bradford.”

“This is Sharla. Can I please talk to Dee?”

“She can hear you. Are you with Carlie?”

“I'm calling from the hospital emergency room. Carlie's okay. She didn't think it was necessary to come here, but Reed insisted.”

“You're sure she's all right?” Dee asked gruffly.

“She's going to have some bruises and a swollen mouth, but thanks to you, we got to her before he could break any bones or do any serious damage.”

Logan felt Dee cringe, and changed the subject. “How'd you find her?”

“We called Bill's airline. They told us where several of their pilots and hostesses were staying. Reed got hold of some friends in law enforcement and they found them. Bill's been arrested and taken to jail. He probably won't stay there long, but at least he knows he's not going to get away with this again. Carlie’s going to file formal charges as soon as we leave here.”

“Does he have a history of violence?” Logan asked.

Sharla hesitated, not knowing how much personal informa­tion she should impart. She didn't know how Dee felt about involving Bradford in family matters.

Dee chose to explain, although her voice still wasn't too steady. “That's why they divorced in the first place. Bill's a bully and a manipulator. I can't believe Carlie went to meet him alone.”

“She didn't know the message was from Bill,” explained Sharla. “He tricked her into thinking she was going to meet Michael.”

That was easier to understand. Their whole family adored Michael. “Michael is Bill's brother,” Dee injected for Logan's sake. “He's a real sweetheart, but Bill's a first-class bastard.”

“If Carlie wants to get away for a while, tell her she's welcome to come here,” he said into the phone.

Dee stirred in his arms. The offer was very thoughtful, and she knew he was sincere, but she wasn't sure she wanted him embroiled in her family's problems. She definitely didn't want any in-depth discussions about her powers of perception. This incident was beyond anything she'd ever experienced, and she wasn't comfortable with it herself.

Logan sensed her objection, and took it as a personal rejection. “You don't want her here?”

“Don't worry about it,” Sharla declared before the matter could be resolved. “I thought Carlie might want to keep this a secret from Mother and Daddy, but she doesn't. She's bruised, but she's not going to run and hide.”

Dee sighed. “She's right. She doesn't have anything to feel guilty about. She's the victim. I just hope this doesn't force her into another post-divorce depression.”

“Her attitude is more furious than wounded,” Sharla said. “It's not like the last time. I really think she's going to be all right.”

“I hope so,” Dee said.

“I've got to go now,” added Sharla. “I'll have Carlie call you the first thing tomorrow.”

They said a collective good night after she promised to call if there were any new developments. Logan replaced the re­ceiver, then leaned back in the chair and put both arms around Dee.

For a short time, he was content to hold her in his arms. She was so soft and smelled so sweet. She'd always felt right in his arms. Now that the crisis was over, his desire for her wasn't so easily ignored. He knew he couldn't hold her much longer without her feeling the evidence of that desire. She wasn't in any shape to make love.

“Ready for bed?” he asked quietly.

Now that she'd begun to relax, Dee was rapidly succumbing to the exhaustion that came in the wake of such a traumatic experience. She didn't speak, but nodded her head in affirma­tion.

He rose and carried her down the hall to her bedroom. Once there, he leaned over to lay her on the bed, but she didn't loosen her hold on him.

She'd never had a sensory experience as violent as the one tonight, and she was badly shaken. When Carlie had been mar­ried to Bill, she'd often felt uneasy, but the emotions had never been so powerful. It was more than a little frightening, and she needed the reassurance of human contact. She also needed to know that Logan didn't think her some kind of freak.

“Stay, please, for a little while,” she coaxed.

Her plea slammed into him with brutal force. He didn't know if he could hold her and control his desire. She'd suffered a bad scare, and he knew she was exhausted, but that didn't stop him from wanting her.

Nevertheless, Logan found himself climbing into bed and stretching out beside Dee. Holding her was slow, sweet torture at most times, and tonight was no different. He doubted he could sleep, but he found enormous pleasure in being close to her. After what he'd witnessed tonight, he needed a little comfort, too.

She relaxed as soon as she was tucked close to his side. He stroked her hair and studied her lovely features in the dim light of the room. Her face looked pale, her lashes dark against the creamy smoothness of her skin. Her lips were full, sensuously curved, and kissably soft. She was a beautiful woman.

A myriad of images ran through his mind as he reached out a hand to gently caress her cheek. He saw Dee running on the beach, laughing, and her eyes shining with love. He saw her expression of disbelief when he'd given her that stupid ulti­matum, and remembered every harsh word they'd exchanged. He saw her playing with kittens and comforting a dying pet.

His thoughts were troubled as he listened to the soft sound of her breathing. It gradually slowed as she drifted to sleep, and he continued to stroke her hair, enjoying the simple pleas­ure of touching her.

He'd thought he knew her so well, but he was realizing how wrong he'd been. When they'd been together last winter, they'd spent hours discussing everything from sports to politics, yet neither of them had shared information about their families or private lives. He wondered if the dodge of personal questions had been a subconscious defense mechanism on her part.

For him, it had been an effort to block out the world and keep her all to himself. It had been a selfish mistake. After she'd given him the well-deserved brush-off, he'd figured that she'd kept her secrets because she hadn't loved him as much as he'd loved her. Now he knew that she had to be careful about letting anyone close to her.

Dee wasn't shallow and self-centered, as he'd tried to convince himself. She was just the opposite, with an emotional depth that was exceptional. She was devoted to her family, and totally loyal to those she loved. Besides that, her incredible sensitivity made her the most vulnerable person he'd ever met. And he'd preyed on that vulnerability.

Enveloping her with both arms, Logan drew her close to his chest so that he could feel her heart beating against his own. Then he buried his face in her hair and inhaled deeply. God! How he loved this woman.

He'd been fighting the truth because the intensity of his feel­ings was beyond his control. What could he do about it?

Had he destroyed any love she'd felt for him? Was desire all she felt now, or had that been extinguished, too? There were too many questions that had been left unanswered for too long. He didn't have the answers, but vowed to do something about it.

 Dee's softness and warmth blanketed him and brought a con­tentment that he hadn't felt in months. Having her close had a healing effect, satisfying a need that was soul-deep. That, combined with her gentle breathing and his exhaustion, finally lulled him to sleep.

* * * * *

Hours later, he woke, surprised at how soundly he'd slept. Dee was still sprawled on top of him, and the feel of her brought his body to swift, aching arousal. For a few minutes he fought the temptation to wake her with slow, leisurely lov­ing, but he resisted.

There was too much that needed to be resolved between them before they could make love again. He ached with a need he had no intention of satisfying, so he decided he'd better get out of her bed. She mumbled sleepily as he shifted away and withdrew his arms.

After tucking a sheet around her, he brushed a light kiss across her lips and got out of bed. It was about an hour before dawn, so he went to his own room, show­ered, and dressed for the day's work.

Dee's alarm rang at six o'clock, and she blindly reached out a hand to shut off the buzzer. The room was dimly lit by the rising sun, and she blinked sleepily until her eyes could focus.

Much to her surprise, she found Logan sitting in a chair he'd pulled close to the bed. His hair was damp from the shower, he was fully dressed, and his eyes were troubled as they rested on her.

She felt an instant of panic as memories of the previous night washed over her. She shivered at the memory of Carlie's scare and the way she'd gone to pieces on Logan; even begging him to stay with her. Had she shocked him beyond belief? Did he think she was demented? Or worse, did he think she was a psychic freak to be avoided at all costs?

“Logan,” she began, licking her lips.

“Morning,” he greeted, his gaze scouring her sleepy fea­tures.

She struggled into a sitting position and realized that she was still wearing her robe. Logan had put her to bed and held her until she fell asleep. That much she knew. He'd been patient, but she didn't have any idea how he felt about what had tran­spired between them.

“We have to talk.”

Dee tensed. She didn't like the gravity of his tone or the determination in his eyes. Was he going to demand explana­tions? Would he berate her for not telling him the whole truth about herself? Was he going to tell her he wanted her off his property? She wasn't sure she was ready to cope with his ques­tions this morning.

“Can't it wait?”

“No.”

“I don't think too clearly in the morning,” she groused.

“I've got all day.”

A heavy sigh escaped her. He wasn't going to give her any slack. She tossed her hair behind her shoulders, and rested her back against the headboard.

“Okay,” she replied, mentally pre­paring herself. She dreaded his interrogation, but she knew she'd already tried his patience enough.

“You never had an abortion, did you?”

Dee stopped breathing, and her eyes widened in shock. Nothing could have prepared her for that particular question or brought her more abruptly awake. The only response that came to mind was the absolute truth, yet she stalled, wanting to know how much he'd guessed.

“You sound awfully certain after being just as certain that I did.

“It's not the first mistake I ever made,” he commented. A brief flash of pain crossed his eyes. “It might be one of the worst, but not the first.”

Dee didn't know how to respond. When she was silent, he offered an explanation for his change of mind.

“It took me a while, but I finally decided that you aren't capable of having an abortion,” he declared with certainty. “You can't even bring yourself to smash a bug. You just shoo 'em away.

“Jake says you even begged him not to kill a mouse the other day. You just wanted it tossed out of your classroom. I guess you can't stand to end the life of any living thing.”

Dee had dropped her eyes. She couldn't look at him. She was relieved that he'd come to know her better, but still unsure and confused about what she wanted from him. On one hand, she wanted him to have faith in her and understand her sen­sitivity. On the other hand, she didn't want him to be too alarmed by or wary of that sensitivity.

She didn't like reliving those bleak months after they'd gone their separate ways. When she finally found her voice, it trem­bled with emotion. “The pregnancy was an unwelcome shock. I was ashamed, but I never considered terminating it. I barely survived the miscarriage. I don't have the emotional stamina for an abortion.”

Logan closed his eyes. A groan rumbled in his chest, but he locked his jaws to keep it from escaping. Her answer was what he'd expected, what he'd concluded himself after witness­ing the pain she'd suffered through Carlie. But it still hit him hard. She'd been alone and carrying his child, while he'd been nursing his ego.

 How must she have suffered? His pride had kept them apart, leaving her alone to bare the pain. He'd never forgive himself. When he opened his eyes, they were raw with agony. “Can you talk about it?”

Dee couldn't stand to see him suffering, but she didn't know how to console him. “There's not much to tell,” she explained, plucking nervously at the sheet. “I was sick the whole three months, and then I miscarried. The doctors said that something was probably wrong with the fetus, and that the miscarriage was unavoidable.”

“Were you in a lot of pain?” Logan forced the question past a dry throat.

Dee shrugged and dropped her eyes. She knew he meant physical pain, but it was hard for her to separate the physical and emotional pain. The guilt was the worst, and she couldn't seem to come to terms with it.

“I should have been more careful,” she fretted. “I should have taken better care of myself.”

“No!” His tone was harsh as he came out of the chair. He clenched his hands into fists and fought the urge to take her in his arms. “Don't do that to yourself. If anyone's to blame, it's me. If I hadn't walked out on you, you wouldn't have been under so much stress.”

“You didn't exactly leave me,” Dee reminded, “you tried to reach me, but I deliberately discouraged you.”

“Why?” The question had been eating at him.

 It was hard to formulate a response, but she tried. “Because I was hurt and angry. I didn't like the idea that you could take me or leave me without a qualm.” She saw his eyes flare with anger, but he didn't interrupt.

“I didn't know I was pregnant when I lied about having a new man in my life. When I found out, I wanted to call you, but I was afraid of how you might react. Then I lost the baby.”

Her voice quavered on the last word, and Logan's muscles knotted. He fought the urge to comfort her; knowing he had no right. He'd let her down when she most needed him, and that was a heavy burden.

“Why did you let me believe the worst?”

Dee studied his tight expression and tried to explain without baring her heart. “I guess I was just so furious that you be­lieved it in the first place. It was an unwanted reminder that we really don't know each other at all.”

“Only in the carnal sense?” Logan suggested with a grim expression as he began to pace the room. “Not in all the other important ways?”

She felt heat invading her cheeks. “That's about the size of it, I guess.”

He dragged a hand through his hair. For the first time in years he was unsure of himself and his future. All the dreams he'd been building around Dee were crumbling. In his way of thinking, his inability to protect her when she most needed him was unforgivable.

He'd let her down badly and had forfeited her respect. Then he'd compounded the sin by ridiculing her and endangering her with more unprotected sex.

Despite everything, he still wanted her to have his child. That hadn't changed. It was a deeply ingrained wanting that he couldn't deny. For both their sakes, he hoped she hadn't con­ceived since moving into his home. She might never forgive him.

When next he spoke, his voice was devoid of emotion and his expression tightly controlled. “Has there been enough time to know whether or not you're pregnant now?”

Dee's blush deepened. It was ridiculous to feel embarrassed since the two of them had been intimate on more than one occasion, but she did. She might not have been so uncomfort­able if he'd been holding her in his arms, but his distance and reserved attitude were disquieting.

She had no idea how he felt about the possibility of a preg­nancy. The status of their relationship had undoubtedly changed, but she wasn't sure where they stood now. That was even more troubling.

“I won't know for a few more days,” she finally told him. Then she found the courage to ask: “Have you decided that a baby wouldn't be such a good idea after all?”

Logan clenched his teeth to keep from answering with the truth. She would hate another pregnancy so soon after her mis­carriage. He didn't want her to think he was a heartless bastard for wanting something he had no right to want, yet he couldn't have her believing he'd resent a baby he'd fathered. It was a no-win situation.

“Whatever happens, you have my promise that I'll stand by you this time. You won't be alone. We'll get married if you want, and I'll take full responsibility for the child.”

Dee heard his stiff declaration and studied his tightly drawn features. For once in her life, she hated not being able to un­derstand what someone was feeling. She didn't doubt that Logan meant what he said, but she didn't know how he felt. The proposal of marriage might have cheered her if it hadn't been offered with terse reluctance.

“There's no sense worrying about it now,” she said.

Logan nodded. He turned toward her and studied her upturned face. Dee felt the heat of his gaze, but he was keeping his emotions tightly in check. She had no idea what to expect.

Looking directly at him, she found the courage to ask: “Do you want me to leave?”

His eyes narrowed, and his chest constricted. He wouldn't keep her here against her will. “Do you want to leave?”

She didn't hesitate. “No.”

Relief flashed briefly in his eyes, and Dee was relieved to see it. She didn't want to go home, but she didn't want to stay unless he was comfortable with the decision. She couldn't stay if he considered her some kind of freak.

“Does it bother you that I have some strong psychic pow­ers?” she forced herself to ask, unable to hold his gaze any longer. His rejection would hurt too much.

“It bothers me,” he declared in a low tone.

Dee's heart sank, and she gripped the sheet tighter to still the trembling of her hands.

Logan cupped her chin in his hand and turned her face up to his. He saw the vulnerability and then her guarded expres­sion.

“It bothers me,” he repeated, “but only because you thought you had to hide it from me. Why did you want to deny something so special?”

Dee forgot to breathe. She hadn't realized how badly she wanted his acceptance until he actually verbalized his feelings on the subject. She couldn't have tolerated any criticism about something that was an inherent part of her.

“ESP isn't widely understood,” she reminded. She'd learned at an early age that people were sometimes wary, fearful, or uncomfortable around someone who was different. “People tend to be suspicious of things they can't understand.”

“You thought I was a redneck farmer with no sensitivity?” Logan concluded. He pulled his hand from her face and turned away, his eyes hard. His tone was even harder. “I might not have a lot of experience with the phenomenon, but I'm not too set in my ways that I can't be educated on the subject.”

Dee bit her lip to keep it from trembling. She'd hurt him and that hurt her. “It's an automatic defense,” she explained. “I'm too aware of most peoples' reaction to anyone who's dif­ferent, so I'm careful.”

“And you couldn't trust me with the truth?” he stated baldly. He walked to the window and kept his back to her.

 “Our relationship was too fragile,” she said, silently adding, too new, too unexpected, too wonderful to risk. “I didn't de­liberately lie to you about my abilities. There just wasn't an occasion to bring up the subject.”

Logan turned slightly toward her. He needed to see her eyes. “Do your abilities apply to everyone? Every living person or thing? Or is it mostly your sisters?”

He wanted to know if she could read him the same way she read her sisters. The only way she could reassure him was to explain how her abilities had progressed over the years. There was no sense delaying a full discussion.

“It's changing as I grow older. I don't know why, but it is. The feelings concerning my sisters grow stronger all the time. I've always been able to tell how people reacted to me; if they liked me, resented me, pretended to feel something that wasn't honest. I really don't know what the future holds. My reactions are growing stronger, too, and sometimes crowds bother me.”

“Because you're getting too much feedback from too many people?” he asked in a genuine effort to understand.

Dee nodded and continued. “I don't run into much hostility, so it doesn't cause a lot of problems. Sometimes I can block out all the emotions. I really have to concentrate if I want to know what one particular person is feeling.”

“Like you did last night with Carlie?”

“Yes.”

Logan wondered what it must have been like for her to be so sensitive as a child and teenager. He could understand why she'd needed to erect protective barriers. He thought he under­stood why the animals were so drawn to her and why she was extra-sensitive to her sisters. What he didn't know was how she felt about him.

“Am I as easy to read as most other people?”

Dee shook her head vigorously, tossing her hair from side to side. “You completely confuse me,” she admitted with candor. “Sometimes I run into people who are so reserved or so private that I don't pick up any emotion. It's like that with you.”

Logan felt a rush of relief. It wasn't that he feared or re­sented any reaction she might have to him, but he didn't like the idea of his emotions being so exposed. He was feeling raw, and didn't want Dee knowing how he felt until he was sure of her feelings for him.

He moved to the side of the bed again. His gaze never left her’s, but he didn't touch her. “I'm sorry I let you down,” he bit out gruffly. “If there's any way I can make it up to you, I'm willing to try.”

Tears immediately blurred her eyes. She didn't want him to feel any obligation toward her. She didn't want him to feel indebted in any way. They couldn't change the past. It was stupid to try.

“All I want is to be accepted for just who I am,” she whis­pered. “I'm one of triplets, an individual, yet an integral part of a close family. I love my family, and I'm always going to be very emotional where they're concerned.”

Logan nodded. He understood how important her family was and didn't want to diminish that in any way.

“I'm also a flight instructor. I love teaching and flying. That's not going to change, either.”

A frown creased his brow. He was learning to deal with her career. He was fighting his own demons, but he wasn't ready to consider the battle won.

“I won't interfere with your work. Everybody's happy with the progress Jake and Butch are making.”

“They're great students,” said Dee, inordinately pleased by the praise. “If you're still interested in lessons, I can rearrange the schedule. It wouldn't take too long for you to catch up with them.”

He seemed to stiffen at the suggestion, and Dee won­dered if he'd completely changed his mind about learning to fly or if he just didn't want her for a teacher.

“Thanks,” he clipped. The idea made him tense, his tone terse. “But I have other plans.”

He hated the wounded look in her eyes, but he wasn't ready to discuss his problems. “It's nothing against you,” he swore, cupping her cheek in his hand as their gaze met and locked.

His touch sent warmth spiraling through Dee. She reached up to clasp his hand with hers, and they stared at one another for a long, tension-filled minute.

“I've been doing all the explaining this morning,” she said. “Why don't you tell me what it is you have against pilots? Did you just use my career as an excuse to get rid of me?”

“No!” Logan's eyes flared and his tone was vehement. “I didn't want to get rid of you.”

“You sure had a poor way of showing it,” she replied, the physical contact and his closeness making her breathy.

“I know,” he almost growled. His expression was pained and self-derisive. “I overreacted and acted like an ass, but it was my problem, not yours.”

“Tell me about it?” she coaxed.

Logan was tempted. He'd never discussed his problem with anyone, but he'd never known anyone with a bigger heart or more beguiling eyes. A man could lose his soul and never regret it. But pride was hard to humble, and he still had a long way to go before he felt worthy of her.

He ignored her question, but posed one of his own. “Can I have a kiss?”

Dee couldn't get a word past the tightness of her throat, but she nodded her head.

Logan brought his mouth to hers and kissed her gently, then fiercely, then gently again before releasing her and stepping to the door.

“I'd better get out of here and let you get dressed,” he de­clared. “Mattie will have breakfast ready soon.”

Dee didn't respond as he opened the door, then closed it behind him. It was several minutes before she could drag her­self from bed and get on with her morning routine.

Chapter Eleven

Dee tried to go about her normal routine for the rest of the morning, but she couldn't help being distracted by thoughts of her conversation with Logan. They'd cleared the air on sev­eral important issues, yet she really didn't have any better understanding of how he felt about her.

His realization that she couldn't have aborted their child had lifted a heavy burden from her heart. His acceptance of her psychic abilities seemed like a dream come true, but she couldn't allow herself to get too hopeful. It was one thing to say you accepted something, and an altogether different propo­sition when you had to deal with it on a regular basis.

Too often people were intolerant of anything they didn't fully understand. Basically good, intelligent people were sometimes unnerved by repeated contact with someone who was different.

Dee had no way of knowing what the future held in relation to her ESP. Her abilities had intensified since her pregnancy. She didn't know why, only that they had. Her reactions to her sisters' emotions were stronger, as were her reactions to other people and even animals.

If her sensitivity continually increased, could Logan learn to cope with the effects? Wouldn't he or any other man get tired of the constant strain? She was having trouble coping with the changes herself. Last night's episode with Carlie had been frightening. Could she stand the added pressure of emo­tional involvement right now?

The question was unimportant. She didn't really have a choice in the matter. She was emotionally involved with Logan whether she liked it or not. While he'd treated her like a crimi­nal, she'd been able to nurse a grudge. Now she was finding it hard to maintain her anger, even for their initial separation. She was more confused than angry.

She was beginning to realize that there had to be more be­hind his unreasonable actions back then than his wanting her to give up her career. She couldn't read his emo­tions, but she sensed that there was a deeper reason for his resentment of pilots.

Could he have known other women pilots? Maybe been in love with one? It wasn't impossible, but highly unlikely. That would explain why Patti and Mattie were uncomfortable every time the subject of flying arose. But if that was the case, why was Logan so reluctant to tell her about it?

Commercial pilots often had the reputation of being promis­cuous, of having a lover in every corner of the world. Dee had assured him that she wasn't like that, and he'd believed her. He'd insisted that he didn't think her chosen line of work didn’t diminish her femininity or appeal. So what was his real objection?

Whatever it was, the fact that he couldn't discuss his inner­most concerns meant that he didn't trust her enough or have enough faith in their relationship. She'd bared her heart to him, but he couldn't do the same. Could you love someone without trusting them? Was there any hope of salvaging their love? Did she really want to?

Letting herself love Logan meant taking a tremendous risk. There were too many complications, and she didn't know if she could survive losing him again. Dee didn't want to admit, even to herself, that she' didn't have a choice in the matter. She preferred to tell herself that her feelings were still am­bivalent where he was concerned.

At least her work was going well, thought Dee as she finished her morning class. Jake and Butch were progressing rapidly in their training. They'd completed their classroom instruction and clocked the required hours on the ground simulator.

Starting tomorrow, she would be flying with Butch in the mornings and Jake in the evenings, until she was satisfied that they could handle the plane by themselves. Then they'd start clocking solo hours.

When the two men left the hangar. Dee took a few minutes to tidy the classroom. She wasn't in any hurry to leave her little sanctuary and risk running into Logan. She'd been late for breakfast, and he'd already left the kitchen before she'd gotten there. She had no way of knowing how he'd treat her for the rest of her stay in Kentucky, and she wasn't ready to face him just yet.

A short time after her students' departure, Dee heard the approach of a familiar plane. Within a few minutes, the sound of Sharla's voice came over the base radio, and Dee gave her the clearance to land.

She left the hangar and walked to the end of the runway, then watched as the Saratoga touched down and taxied to stop beside the Cessna. The sight of both her sisters embarking from the plane put wings on her feet. She started running toward them and threw her arms around Carlie as soon as her feet touched ground.

Carlie moaned, expressing some tenderness in her ribs, but she wouldn't let Dee ease her grip. They hugged each other tightly, both needing the contact and reassurance.

“Thanks,” Carlie whispered. Her voice nearly deserted her in an effort to express how deeply she appreciated the way Dee had precipitated her rescue the previous night.

“Are you all right?” Dee asked as she stepped back and studied her. Anger flared in her eyes. It was hard to contain the fury that surged through her at the sight of her sister's bruised and swollen face. Even though Bill had been cruel in the past, it was the first time Carlie had allowed her family to see the ravages of his temper.

“I'm fine, really”

“How did it happen?”

“Bill took me by surprise,” Carlie explained, giving her an­other brief hug, then adding, “It's not as bad as it looks.”

The remark was an attempt to appease her worry and totally wasted since Dee had experienced the pain right along with her, but she didn't con­tradict.

“Why were you alone with him?”

“He told me he and Michael were sharing a room. He said Michael was seriously ill and refused to see a doctor, then asked me to try and talk some sense into him. He sounded so damned sincere.” Carlie berated herself for being fooled. “And I was stupid enough to trust him.”

“That's how he got you to his room?”

“I really thought he'd gotten over his obsession to control me. It's been nearly two years since we talked to each other. I had no reason to suspect his motives, and he sounded really concerned about Michael.”

“Reed figures Bill got rejected by some other woman re­cently and decided to turn his attention back to Carlie,” said Sharla.

“He doesn't accept rejection well,” Carlie agreed. “He never thinks he's at fault. He still thinks I should be his devoted slave, even though we've been legally divorced for four years.”

Dee shook her head in disbelief. Bill was a handsome, charming man. She doubted that very many women ever said no to him, and he was spoiled beyond belief. He was one of those commercial pilots who'd actually earned the reputation of having a bevy of lovers, but Carlie hadn't known that until after she'd married him.

Her sisters were wearing comfortable cotton shorts and shirts, as was she, but it was still very warm in the sun. “Come into my classroom where it's cooler. Can you stay a little while? We could go somewhere for lunch.”

“Just a few minutes,” Sharla replied as they headed for the hangar. “Mother and Daddy don't want to let Carlie out of their sight for long.”

“They've been fussing over me all morning,” Carlie told her. “I really hated to upset them, but I'm not going to let Bill disrupt my whole life again. I won't hide until all evidence of his abuse is faded. We're finished, and I'm going to get a permanent restraining order against him this time.”

“I thought he agreed to get counseling after your divorce,” said Dee as she ushered them into the building.

“He went to a couple group meetings and decided all the other people in the group were beneath his station in life,” Carlie explained, making a face at such arrogance. “I hope he gets a court order for therapy.”

“Ditto,” said Sharla.

“I'll get some colas. There's a small refrigerator in the radio room.” Dee continued to talk to them as she entered the second half of the building and then returned with cold drinks. “We don't have a full-time base operator, but there's a man who works when he's needed, and Butch and Jake are learning to handle the equipment.”

“It's good that they want to learn,” said Carlie.

“This has really been fixed up nice,” Sharla noted as she wandered around the room. “It beats every classroom or han­gar I've ever seen.”

“I told you it was decorated in style,” Carlie added, having seen the building when she'd delivered equipment.

“It's certainly the nicest work area I've ever used. As soon as I get home, I'm going to bend Papa Bear's ear with sug­gestions to improve our classroom,” Dee teased as they all found chairs and relaxed. “You two can prepare him with a few comments on how much you like this one.”

“You should be about done with the classroom work, shouldn't you?” asked Sharla.

“We finished this morning.” Dee smiled with satisfaction. “Butch loves that simulator; so he might get in a few more hours on it tonight, but tomorrow he takes the con­trols in the Cessna.”

“Have they been good students?” asked Carlie.

“They've been great, I'm really pleased with their progress.. I don't think they'll have any trouble getting their licenses, provided they don't panic once we're airborne.”

“Is Logan taking the training elsewhere?”

Dee shook her head. “I think he spends some time in here, but as far as I know, he isn't taking lessons. I asked him if he wanted me to fit him into the schedule, but he said no.”

Sharla and Carlie were watching her so closely that Dee could feel their curiosity. She knew they had a lot of concerns about her relationship with Logan. “Go ahead, spit it out,” she teased.

Sharla grinned. “Now, how could you possibly know that we're dying of curiosity?''

“Just intuition, I guess,” Dee quipped, tongue in cheek.

“We were wondering what was happening between the two of you,” Carlie admitted. “Sharla said he was with you last night when you called her. I don't know how you feel about it, but I'm glad you weren't alone.”

Dee's gaze dropped to her can of soda. She wasn't quite sure how to begin. “He was wonderful last night. He offered his unconditional support without really understanding any­thing.”

“Had he known about your abilities, or did you have to explain all of it?” asked Sharla.

“I explained as much as I could. It's changing all the time, and I really don't understand it myself.”

“Was it bad last night?” Carlie asked, her eyes turbulent with emotion.

Dee looked directly at her and knew she was worried about any suffering she'd caused, even indirectly. She debated about sugar-coating the truth, but decided against it. They needed total honesty between them.

“It was a nightmare. I felt your fear, anger and pain,” she admitted candidly, but without dramatics. “I've never experi­enced anything like it, and I hope I never have to again. I don't know how you coped.”

Tears welled in Carlie's eyes. “I'm so sorry, Dee. I hope you never have to feel it again, either.”

“It's not your fault. None of it is your fault,” Sharla insisted. “Don't even think it for a minute.”

“You aren't responsible for my sensitivity,” Dee declared fervently. “I don't know why it's growing stronger all the time, but nobody is responsible for my reactions. It's just something I'll have to learn to live with.”

“It still doesn't seem fair,” Carlie argued, swiping the tears from her cheeks.

“It may not be fair,” Sharla tacked on, “but I'm sure glad Dee was sensitive to your situation. I'm glad she saved my hide last month, too, even if I don't wish her any extra worry and pain.”

“I guess you're right,” said Carlie. “I don't have any reason to complain. It's not everybody who's blessed with a guardian angel.”

“That makes us pretty special, doesn't it?” Sharla added with a grin. “Even though 'angel' is a bit of a stretch.” Her teasing brought a return of grins.

They were quiet for a few minutes, then Carlie broke the silence. “So what's happening with Logan? Have the two of you discussed your personal problems?”

“We discussed some things.”

“Have you resolved anything?”

“We resolved a couple major problems,” Dee admitted, “but there are still a lot of unanswered questions.”

“Like why Logan threw a fit because you're a pilot, then built an airstrip, hired you to teach him to fly, and then changed his mind about learning?” asked Carlie.

Dee could understand how confusing it all seemed. She was still confused. “Well, he didn't know I was being hired. That part is clear. The rest of it makes no sense to me at all, and he wouldn't talk about it.”

Sharla cleared her throat and then spoke with uncharacter­istic diffidence. “A... I... have a bit of information that might supply some answers.”

Dee's eyes immediately lit with interest. “What kind of in­formation?”

“Well,” Sharla hedged, actually blushing. “You know how I hate bureaucratic practices that allow federal agents to butt into people's private business.”

“But you had Reed check into Logan's past?” Carlie sur­mised correctly.

Sharla nodded, looking guilty, but straining with excitement. Still, she was reluctant.

“So? What's in Logan's past that has any effect on the pre­sent?” Dee wanted to know.

“Reed found out that he joined the Navy right out of high school.”

“Mattie mentioned that he'd been in the Navy, but she didn't elaborate,” said Dee.

“Not just the Navy,” Sharla emphasized. “The Naval Flight Corps.”

“So he's more than a little familiar with planes?” Dee said in surprise. Maybe that accounted for the time he spent on the simulator.

“Not just working on planes,” Sharla added, carefully gaug­ing her sister's reaction. “He was a Navy pilot. A fighter pilot, and one of the best in his unit. He had an excellent record and a reputation to go with it. He planned to make a career of fly­ing.”

Nothing she could have said would have shocked Dee more than learning that Logan had trained as a fighter pilot. She visualized cocky, confident young men in leather bomber jack­ets. They had nerves of steel and daredevil smiles. Despite the contrast to the man she knew, she could imagine Logan that way. He would have been devastating.

“Are you sure Reed checked out the right Logan Bradford?” she queried.

Sharla took offense. “Reed is an excellent sleuth. He wouldn't make that kind of stupid mistake,” she insisted on her fiancee’s behalf.

“But what in the world made him leave the Navy?” Dee wondered. “And why does he have such a poor opinion of pilots?”

“Because he was a poor pilot!” The harsh edict came straight from the man in question as he appeared in the doorway of the hangar.

Three identical sets of eyes turned to the big man silhouetted in the door. Their expressions registered surprise, curiosity, and concern.

Logan had the sun behind him and his Stetson shaded his face, so Dee couldn't see his features. But the deep, low timbre of his voice sent a shiver over her. How much of their con­versation had he overheard?

Sharla recovered first. She wasn't the least bit shy about querying him further. “I find that hard to believe. Reed says you were one of the best. You were moving rapidly through the ranks and your record was exemplary.”

“Records don't always tell the whole story.”

“I don't suppose you'd volunteer the whole story?” Sharla asked, intrigued. She'd grown up idolizing fighter pilots.

Logan didn't move from his position in the door, but Dee was gradually able to see his features. His gaze was fastened on her. Then it shifted to Sharla, giving her a negative nod of his head in response to her question.

Next he studied Carlie's battered face. “Are you okay?” he asked.

It took Carlie a second to adjust to the abrupt change of subject. “I'm fine, thanks. And thanks for your help.”

“I didn't do anything, but I wouldn’t have minded getting my hands on your ex-husband.”

Carlie gave him a warm smile, and Sharla commented, “Reed had the same reaction. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Bill was already handcuffed and being led to a police car by the time we arrived.”

Logan nodded, satisfied that some sort of justice would be invoked. His gaze sought Dee's again. She was watching him intently. He wondered what she saw when she looked at him and what she felt. Did she hate him for not leveling with her in the very beginning? Would she be able to understand what he'd done without losing respect for him?

“Why did you leave the Navy?” she asked.

Everyone seemed to hold their breath, waiting to see if he'd ignore her question or explain his ambiguous remark about being a poor pilot.

Logan's jaws clenched and his hands were knotted into fists at his side. He'd never discussed his motives for leaving the service to anyone, but Dee deserved an explanation.

“There was a fatal crash. It went into the records as an error of experimental equipment, but I was piloting. I never took the controls again.”

Dee sucked in her breath. He'd survived a fatal crash? Her chest constricted at the thought. She searched his face for some clue to the emotion behind the statement, but his feelings were closely guarded.

“How did you survive?” Sharla asked after recovering from the initial shock of his declaration.

“We were coming in for landing, and the explosion triggered the pilot ejection system. I was ejected at a survivable altitude.”

He'd survived, but how badly had he been hurt? Dee knew he couldn't have escaped injury in an explosion and crash. She remembered one bad scar on his right leg. Had there been other physical wounds, or were his most debilitating scars the emotional kind? Had he been so badly hurt that he couldn't face flying again? The thought brought her pain, and her eyes went wide with concern.

It explained so much; his initial vehement objections to her career and his subsequent agreement to drop himself from her training course. Just the thought of her teaching him anything about flying was ridiculous. He'd probably forgotten more than she'd ever known.

But why had he gone to the trouble and expense of building his own airfield if he didn't want anything to do with planes? Had he changed his mind? Was he trying to ease back into piloting?

Logan didn't know how long he could withstand her scru­tiny. He knew Dee had a lot of questions, and she had a right to the answers. He'd planned to tell her the whole truth. He'd almost confided in her this morning, but he'd never put his deepest fears to words, and he didn't know where to start. Now he wasn't sure he could handle a full confession.

“After the crash, you finished your time and were dis­charged?” Sharla asked.

“I got out,” was Logan's only comment. His gaze finally left Dee and turned to Sharla. “Will you be staying a while, or do you need some help getting the Saratoga back in the air?”

“We have to leave,” said Carlie, rising from her chair. “We promised the folks we wouldn't be gone long.”

“I have plenty of fuel, and I'll do my own flight check,” Sharla said as she rose to her feet. “But thanks for the offer.”

Logan's gaze glanced off Dee's face again, then he turned and left the building. Sharla's and Carlie’s eyes flew to their sister.

“Go after him,” Sharla insisted. “Get some details. I'm dying to know the whole story, and I know you must be worse than me.”

“What makes you think he'll discuss the subject with me?” asked Dee. “He's kept it a well-guarded secret so far, and believe me, there's been ample opportunity.” Now she knew why Patti and Mattie always got so uncomfortable about pi­loting discussions.

“I'm sure he wants to tell you about it,” Carlie said. “Now that you know the basics, it might be easier for him to explain. If you care about him at all, you need to find out what's still bothering him after all these years.”

“We have to go anyway,” Sharla added.

Dee didn't need much persuading. She was on her feet and heading to the door. “Give my love to Mother and Daddy, and have a safe flight home. I'll call you later.”

Outside the building, she quickly searched for Logan. All she saw was the back of him as he rode through the woods on horseback. There was no way she could follow him in Patti's sports car.

Instead, she drove to the barn, found Jake, and asked him to saddle a horse for her. She rode as often as possible, so he didn't find anything strange about the request. He saddled Molly, her usual mount.

“You sure you don't want to change clothes before you ride?” he asked. “Those shorts and sandals won't be much protection for your legs.”

“I'm chasing Logan,” she admitted, grinning when his eyes widened. “I'm not planning to ride for very long.”

Except for his surprise at her bold announcement, Jake took the situation in stride. “We heard a plane, and he rode out to check for visitors.”

“That was my sisters, Logan already talked to them, and they're leaving again.” The sound of the Saratoga's revving engines accented her statement.

Jake gave her a foot up to the stirrups. “Sometimes Logan goes to the hill above the airfield. He can see the whole strip from that vantage.”

“Thanks. I'll check there first.”

“I'll tell Mattie not to worry about waiting lunch for you,” he teased.

Dee grinned and glanced at her watch. It was almost noon. She and Logan definitely wouldn't make lunch if they had an in-depth discussion.

“Thanks,” she repeated as she took the reins and turned Molly from the barn. Jake wished her luck.

She wasn't sure she could find Logan, but she rode back to the hangar and then headed in the direction she'd seen him take. Molly easily followed the beaten path through the woods, then the trees gave way to rolling pasture, and Logan came into sight.

He was standing beside his horse on the ridge overlooking the airstrip. Dee slowed Molly's pace when she got a clear view of him. He turned at the sound of her approach, but she couldn't see his eyes or judge his reaction to her pursuit.

Dee eased Molly to a walk until she was close enough for Logan to reach out and grasp the horse's halter. He held Molly still and offered a hand to help her dismount, then grounded the reins so the horse could graze with his.

“We need to talk,” she declared softly, repeating the same words he'd used on her earlier in the morning.

Logan's silvery gaze met hers without flinching. He grasped both her forearms, pulling her close to him. “I'd rather make love in the grass.”

His touch, the heat of his body, and the gleam in his eyes made her blood sizzle, but she wasn't going to be distracted. “You'd rather put off my questions for a while longer,” she countered, yielding the urge to slide her hands up his rock-hard chest.

“I'd rather kiss than talk,” he mumbled as he lowered his head and covered her mouth with his.

It started as an attempt to delay his confession, but as soon as Logan felt the softness of her lips, he forgot everything but her sweetness and how badly he needed her. He moaned and deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue into her mouth to plumb the honeyed depths.

Dee involuntarily shifted closer, tilting her head and wel­coming the hungry invasion of his tongue. Her fingers flexed against his chest, and a tiny moan found its way up her throat.

He wrapped his arms around her and drew her tightly against him. In a matter of seconds, she inflamed him with her responsive mouth and sexy whimper of hunger. He couldn't get enough of her.

Dee returned his kisses with fervor and molded her body along the hard length of his. Her breasts swelled and pressed against his chest. Logan's hand slid to her hips and urged her still closer to his hardness, but when she felt the rigid evidence of his arousal, she knew she had to find the strength to resist him.

They couldn't make love with so much unresolved conflict between them. She'd been honest and trusting when she'd an­swered his questions. She deserved no less from him.

Dragging her mouth from his, she dropped her chin until his mouth rested on her forehead. They were both breathing roughly, but she managed to find the breath to explain her withdrawal.

“I want explanations, Logan.” Her whisper was husky, but firm.

She felt his chest rise with a deep inhalation of breath, then heard his long, slow exhalation. She knew how he felt. She was just as needy, but this time she wanted a whole lot more than physical gratification.

He drew back and locked gazes with her. Dee's legs went weak at the heated intensity of his eyes.

“You're sure you wouldn't like to love me first and talk later?” he ground out hoarsely. He was desperately afraid that his confession might destroy her desire for him. He wanted the empowering strength of their physical bond to cement their relationship before he threatened it again.

Dee stepped away from him and the temptation he repre­sented. She'd have to be dead to remain unaffected by the passionate intensity of his eyes and voice. She was tempted to let him have his way with her, but she resisted.

“Talk first,” she said softly, adding a promise. “Then we can make love all you want.”

Logan groaned and turned his back to her. “I'm going to hold you to that promise,” he swore roughly.

He headed across the ridge toward a sprawling willow tree. Dee followed slowly, allowing him time to get control of his desire. When he ducked under the heavy foliage of the willow's branches, so did she. The tree became an umbrella that offered sun-dappled shade and provided a measure of privacy.

She moved to the trunk of the tree and sat down, using it as a backrest. The grass was thick, soft, and cool against her bare legs.

Logan began to pace, so she patted a spot beside her. His eyes met hers, then shifted to her hand. He eased his long length to the ground, stretching out to lie on his back. Tipping off his hat, he locked his hands behind his neck, and stared at the canopy of leaves above them.

Chapter Twelve

Dee didn't prompt Logan with questions. She just tried to relax and enjoy the quiet beauty of the morning. Her emotions were in chaos, but she didn't want to push him. She wanted him to explain his past in his own words. After several long minutes, he began.

“I met a guy named Harvey Harris my first year at the academy,” he explained in a low, even tone. “Harvey was from West Virginia, and he got a lot of ribbing from our preppy classmates about his 'hillbilly' upbringing. They nicknamed him 'Hick,' but he didn't mind.” A half-smile touched his lips. “He preferred it to his given name.

“The insults didn't bother him, either. When he responded, it was always in his slow, laid-back fashion. Nobody ever got under his skin, because most people just weren't important to him.”

“Except for you?” Dee asked a minute later when he ap­peared to get lost in his memories.

“Yeah,” Logan admitted. “We came from different back­grounds, but we were both country boys at heart. We liked the simple life and shared a fascination with airplanes. For me, it was a dream to fly. For Hick, to create a fighter plane that was superior to all others.

“His poor-boy manner disguised sheer brilliance. His IQ was double the average, and he got a real kick out of the dumb-hillbilly routine. People mostly amused him. The only thing that really challenged him was an unsolved puzzle. If he didn't know the reason for something, he was like a madman until he found the answer. He was a mathematics and electronics genius.”

Dee noticed that Logan spoke of his friend in the past tense. She didn't know if he was referring to a time long past or the man, but she guessed that Harvey had been lost somewhere along the way.

“The two of you were together all four years of academy?”

“Yeah, and then we requested assignments to the same base. I learned to fly a fighter, and Hick got to dissect the plane's computer systems.”

Logan envisioned his old friend. Hick had been tall and lanky and always looked underfed. His appetite was voracious, when he remembered to eat. Sometimes, if he was involved in a project, whole days would go by before he realized he was starving.

A few minutes of silence passed. Dee studied Logan’s face. She loved every curve and plane of it. He was the only man she'd ever loved, and despite everything that had happened to them, she still loved him.

Like most of her emotional reactions, it wasn't something she could control, it just came naturally. There was no use denying it. However terrible his secrets about the past were, she knew they wouldn't change the way she felt about him.

“Hick was the best friend I ever had,” Logan eventually continued, his tone gruff. “We were more than friends: it was like having a soul mate.”

It was difficult for him to share his deepest feelings. Dee doubted he'd ever shared them with anyone, but she was glad he was willing to do so for her. He was an intensely private man, and it was hard for a man to admit his love for another man. Women tended to discuss their love more freely, but men often considered it emasculating. She thought it was a measure of strength and character.

“We worked together for almost four years after the acad­emy,” Logan continued. “I wanted to be the best fighter pilot this country ever had, and Hick wanted to design the best elec­tronics system in the world.

“If a computer problem cropped up that Hick couldn't iso­late and correct from the ground, he'd go up with me to study the problem firsthand. He called it his on the job training.”

Logan's tone grew hoarse, and he stopped talking for a while. Most of his memories of Hick were good, but he'd avoided thoughts of their work for a long time. He wasn't sure if he could tell Dee the whole story.

She realized why it was hard for him to discuss Hick. Logan suffered the guilt of surviving the same accident that had claimed the life of his best friend. It wasn't an unusual occur­rence, but it was especially traumatizing. She wanted to make it easier for him to recount the details.

“Hick was the fatality in the crash you mentioned earlier?” She softly supplied the admission he couldn't articulate.

Logan closed his eyes, and his jaws clenched with tension. “Yeah,” he said again. “There was a problem with the com­puter's fuel pressure readouts. We all thought it was minor, but it was driving Hick crazy because he couldn't pinpoint it.”

“So he flew with you?”

 Logan jerked himself to a sitting position and raked all his fingers through his hair. “It was just a damned test flight, nothing special, nothing dangerous,” he argued with heat.

“We were getting ready to come in for a landing when the explosion happened. I didn't know what the hell was going on. One wing burst into flame and the plane did a dive. I was able to stabilize it again, but the cockpit was filling with smoke, and I couldn't read the instruments.”

Once he started explaining, his words came in an angry rush. “Hick was ignoring the fire and cussing the computer. The ground crew and our C.O. were screaming for us to eject, but I couldn't go without him, and he was more worried about solving the damned electronics problem.”

Logan covered his face with his hands as he relived the horror of those few minutes. He'd wanted to hit the ejection button for both of them, but Hick had pleaded for a few more seconds. Those seconds had cost him his life.

“I should have pushed the damned button and argued with him after we hit the ground,” Logan declared fiercely. He turned tormented eyes on Dee. “I remember reaching for the switch, but there was a second explosion, and I don't remem­ber anything after that until I woke up in the hospital.

“It's not remembering that drives me crazy,” he rasped. “It's the damned unanswered questions. Why was I ejected and not Hick? We both should have gone. Did I do something wrong? What caused the first explosion? What else could I have done?”

Dee didn't have any of the answers, but her tone was softly sympathetic. “What did the Navy decide?”

He shook his head. “The investigators blamed the crash on a malfunction of the electronics system. They claimed the first explosion and fire caused extensive electrical damage and short-circuited the backup systems. That plane had been plagued with problems. That's why Hick was so frustrated. He couldn't figure it out.”

“So why do you blame yourself?” Dee asked gently, know­ing that he'd lived with guilt for a long time.

“I could have saved him,” he argued, eyes burning with anguish and self-disgust. “I could have ejected both of us be­fore the second explosion. Then he'd have had a chance.”

“Maybe,” Dee countered, “but I don't think so. I'm a fatalist. I believe that a person dies when it's their time. Maybe nothing you could have done would have saved Hick. It was his time.”

“No!” he argued harshly, raking his hands through his hair again. “He was too young, too good, with too many prob­lems to solve.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and she quickly blinked them away. She felt the pain of his loss, but she didn't want to compound his anguish with her own. She wanted him to let go of the guilt

“Don't you think you've punished yourself enough?” she asked quietly. “You gave up the work you loved, and you've mourned for your friend, but it's time to let go of the past. You can't keep blaming yourself for a freak accident. You had every right to survive.”

“Did I?” he asked roughly, his silvery eyes riveted on her face.

“You're a survivor,” she insisted. “You lost your best friend and your dreams were shattered, but you didn't crawl in a hole and hide. You're strong and healthy and leading a productive life.”

Her words were a salve to his soul, but she still didn't know what a coward he was. Logan didn't know if he could explain his fear of flying, but he wanted her to understand why he'd been so intimidated by her career.

Dee's eyes never left his as he stretched out on his back again and covered his face with his forearm. She studied his prone form and tried to imagine what it would be like to sur­vive a crash that claimed-someone you loved. She'd had a couple of scares in the air, but nothing too serious. Sharla's emergency landing in an ice storm had been frightening enough, and she hadn't been badly hurt.

“How badly were you hurt?” she forced herself to ask.

“A concussion and a few broken bones,” he dismissed as unimportant. “I healed except for some nerve and tissue dam­age. The doctors said I'd never recover the full strength and reflexive action I needed to fly the fighters, but it didn't really matter. I was too damned scared to get into the cockpit, anyway.”

There. The truth was out. He'd said the words. He was scared, too scared to take the controls of another plane. Too scared to revive the old dreams. Too scared to accept the fact that the woman he loved was a pilot.

“You haven't flown since?”

“Never,” Logan sound on a growl. “By the time I was out of the hos­pital, I was up for promotion and reenlistment. I refused both. I walked away and never looked back.”

A few years later, he'd climbed into the cockpit of a friend's plane. The fear had still been so strong he could taste it. He'd broken out in a cold sweat when the memories washed over him, and his hands had shaken so badly that he couldn't grip the controls. Except for the simulator, he hadn't tried since.

Dee imagined his resignation had taken more courage than most men could boast. She knew Logan's superiors wouldn't have allowed him to resign his commission without a battle. She was sure they'd submitted him to dozens of counseling sessions. He'd probably been hounded by psychologists and other well-intentioned professionals. Then he'd had to come home to his family, feeling like a failure.

As the silence stretched between them, Logan wondered if he'd shocked Dee with his admission. Women had always chased him while he was a fly boy. It was an accepted fact of life. There would always be women who were impressed by the uniform, but uncaring about the real man beneath it. Women were impressed by men they perceived as daring and fearless.

He hadn't been short of feminine attention since settling down on the farm, but he'd made sure no one got close enough to cause heartache. Until Dee. Her sweetness and sensitivity had slipped past all his defenses. He'd fallen fast and hard, but how could she want a man who confessed to being a coward?

He was a harsh judge of his own strength. Dee had met a lot of pilots in her life; military, commercial, and privately licensed. But she'd never met one with the courage to train as a fighter pilot. It took a special breed of man with special skills to meet that kind of challenge. Logan was no less a man for having grasped, then lost his dream.

There was tension in every line of his body, and she badly wanted to comfort him. She didn't know if he'd reject her efforts, but she had to try. Shifting to her knees and sliding closer to him, she laid a hand on his thigh and splayed her fingers in a gentle caress.

Logan's muscles bunched, and a low moan tightened his throat. Her hand burned him through the layer of denim and sent heat spiraling through his body. It was like stepping close to an open fire after battling a numbing coldness. He didn't want sympathy, but be didn't have the strength to resist any­thing she wanted to give.

He held himself rigid while she leaned over him and began tugging his shirttail from the waistband of his jeans. When she pressed a soft kiss on his stomach, he clenched his teeth in sweet agony. As she scattered more kisses over his abdomen, he reached for the back of her head with both hands, slowly unwound the tight braid, then combed her thick locks with his fingers.

“Dee!” he murmured gruffly. Her tenderness and under­standing were his undoing. Her kisses eased his pain and proved she wasn't disgusted by his story. He wanted to pull her completely over him, but she wouldn't be rushed.

She unfastened his shirt from the bottom, button by button, kiss by kiss, until she found the nipples hidden in tight curls. When her warm, wet tongue touched the first one, his whole body jerked, and blood surged in his loins. Then she gave equal attention to the other nipple.

He clutched her hair in his fists and guided her head up­ward until he could lock his mouth with hers. Their lips met, hot, hard and wanting. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her on top of him while their tongues touched and en­twined.

They shared a long, deep, ravenous kiss while each absorbed the feel of the other. Dee was pliant as she pressed closer, eager to feel every hard angle of his body. At the feel of his arousal pressing against the softness of her thighs, she undu­lated her hips in blatant demand.

Logan broke off the kiss just long enough to release a low groan and scatter heated caresses across her face. Then he cap­tured her lips with increased fervor. Dee returned his kisses with a matching need.

He had to touch her. He had to feel her skin against his own. Without easing the pressure on her mouth, his hands slid over her back and then under the hem of her blouse. He didn't waste time with buttons, but pulled it off her arms and over her head. In another instant, his fingers found the clasp of her bra and he tossed it aside as well.

Combined moans of pleasure swirled in their mouths as her bare breasts were crushed against his chest. Logan clutched her close for a minute, then lifted her just far enough to brush her nipples across his own.

The pleasure was unbearable. Dee's sultry eyes met his smoldering gaze and heat throbbed low in her body. A groan of need rumbled from Logan as his chest rose against hers. Every nerve in her body sang with awareness.

He wanted her more than his next breath. He had to be a part of her, to bury himself as deeply inside of her as possible. The need was more than physical, more than carnal, more than nec­essary.

“Let me love you,” he pleaded in a shaking voice. It might be a little late to offer her protection, but he'd promised himself to never put her at risk again. “I promise to protect you.”

In response, Dee dipped her head to steal another kiss. At the same time, her trembling fingers slid between them and found the buckle of his belt. A low sound of need quaked through him, and every muscle in his body tightened.

He wanted to take his time, to savor her sweetness and beauty. He wanted to drive her crazy with need, to kiss every soft inch of her body, but his own desire was too fierce, too long denied.

“I want you too much,” he apologized in a raw tone. In another instant they were both freed of confining clothes, and he turned to pull her beneath him.

“Never too much.” Dee's breath caught on a sob as the hot, heavy weight of his body fully covered her. Blood pulsed through her veins in a heated rush, and she arched her hips against him in demand.

It took only seconds for Logan to use the protection he'd promised. Then his mouth caught hers again. His tongue plunged through her lips in greedy demand. A soft cry caught in her throat as he clutched her hips and joined their bodies in the same commanding fashion.

Birds sang and a gentle breeze rustled the branches of the willow tree. Sweat glistened on their bodies moments later when their passion was spent. Logan continued to hold Dee close as their breathing slowly returned to normal.

She was overwhelmed by sweet sensations; the satis­faction he'd given her, the sun and breeze on her bare flesh, the softness of the grass beneath her and the feel of his big body next to hers.

There was no guilt or self-recrimination. She loved this man and had no qualms about entrusting her body and soul to him. Now that she fully understood why he'd rejected their love, she could cope with any problems that arose in their relation­ship. Logan might not be ready to propose marriage again, but he loved her. She was certain of that.

She could wait. There was no need to make hurried deci­sions about their future. They needed time together. She knew their love would blossom given time and opportunity.

Even though his body was temporarily sated, Logan wasn't ready to release Dee yet. He brushed kisses over her throat and neck while he asked, “Was that a serious promise to give me all the loving I wanted?”

“Uh-huh,” she murmured, eyes closed, as she enjoyed his caresses.

His body throbbed to life again at the sexy softness of her reply. He might not deserve her unconditional trust, he might never be totally worthy of her, but he wasn't fool enough to refuse whatever she was willing to give. In return, he would give her everything he had to give. He'd see that she never wanted for anything.

“I'm a greedy man,” he reminded, nibbling on the pulse at the base of her throat and feeling her tremble in response. “It might not be an easy promise to keep.”

Dee found the strength to lift her arms and cradle his face in her palms. Her lashes rose, revealing slumberous eyes filled with emotion. “Are you trying to discourage me?”

“Hell, no!” came his gruff reply. His eyes darkened as he recognized the depth of commitment she was offering. He should be exultant, but he was wary. She was still a pilot, and he still hadn't conquered his fears.

“Does the promise come with strings?” he forced himself to ask. The future was too unpredictable.

Dee continued to gaze at him with unflinching faith. “None.”

Logan pulled his head from her grip and smothered a groan against the cushion of her breast. He turned his head and sucked a nipple into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue until it was engorged and throbbing. Then his thumb replaced his mouth while he gave the same attention to the other breast.

She whimpered and sunk her fingers into his hair as he swiftly brought her body to an aching state of arousal. Arching her back, she lifted her hips and rubbed herself against him in wanton invitation.

Logan made a sound that expressed his pleasure, but this time he didn't intend to hurry. He wanted to savor every inch of her responsive body. He lingered over her lush breasts and then expanded his caresses.

Dee quivered in his arms. She'd promised him all the loving he wanted, but the promise had been a selfish one. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her—maybe more.

* * * * *

For the next few days, they existed in their own private world. They went about their normal routines, they exchanged conversation and interacted with other people, but their thoughts were focused on each other and the next opportunity to be alone.

Neither got much sleep, yet they didn't com­plain. Their nights were filled with soft words, soft caresses, and insatiable hunger. He didn't blatantly take her to his bed. He didn't want her to be embarrassed or uncomfortable with the situation.

He came to her each night after the house was quiet, and left her before dawn each morning. Whenever they found themselves alone, they stole kisses. They didn't really know or care if the other members of the household and staff were aware of the change in their relationship.

Dee welcomed him when he came to her. She blossomed in the warmth of his attention. Sometimes she met his passion with enchanting innocence; sometimes with wanton eagerness. She kept her promise and gave him all the loving he wanted, but made no further demands.

Logan fell more deeply in love every day. He hadn't thought it possible, but it happened. Each time she smiled at him, each time she spoke his name, each time she touched him, he fell deeper under love's spell. She stole his heart again.

Chapter Thirteen

Toward the end of the week, Dee awoke in the early morning hours to find herself alone in bed. Logan always left her before dawn, but she sensed something different about his absence this morning. She lay still for a few minutes, trying to chase away sleepiness and identify the feelings of unease she was experiencing.

A strange kind of dread settled over her. Then that feeling began to give away to fear—real, gripping fear. Her first thought was for her sisters, especially Carlie. But after a few more min­utes, she realized that they weren't involved. She was picking up someone else's emotions. It could only be one other person.

Logan. He was in a bad situation, but Dee didn't immedi­ately realize where or how he was being threatened. Still, she could feel his fear and knew she had to find him.

Jumping from bed, she quickly located a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. After dressing and slipping her feet into sneakers, she quietly let herself out of the house to make a dash for the garage. She climbed into Patti's car, and instinct directed her toward the airfield.

Logan was forcing himself to take the controls of her plane. The knowledge came to her in a rush of emotion. He was testing himself, pushing himself to face his fears. She didn't want him doing it on her account. Over the past few days they'd avoided any mention of his naval career, but she'd realized that he wasn't willing to consider a future with her until he'd put the past behind him for good.

If he never piloted another plane, she wouldn't think any less of him. He didn't need to prove anything to her. She loved him, unconditionally and without reservations.

She only wished he had as much faith in her as she had in him. Why couldn't he understand that she loved him just the way he was? He wasn't flawed in her eyes. He was strong and courageous and every inch a man. She wanted to convince him that his fears were perfectly acceptable, if not to himself, at least to her and the rest of the world.

When Dee reached the airstrip, the car lights swept across the Cessna, and she could see Logan sitting in the pilot's seat. She parked, switched off the ignition, and jumped out, noting in the silence of the early morning that the plane's engine was also silent.

He didn't say a word when she climbed into the cockpit with him, nor did he glance her way. He was frozen in position behind the controls. Dee could feel the waves of tension vi­brating from his big body. His posture was utterly still and stiff, his jaw locked in a rigid line, and both his hands gripped the controls.

She wanted to do or say something to ease his tension, but she couldn't get a sound past the tightness in her throat. He was hurting. He looked so brittle that she was afraid to touch him. His pain became her pain, and she didn't know how to ease his suffering.

She wondered if this was the first time he'd forced himself inside the plane, or if he'd been making a habit of punishing himself with his own fear. It didn't matter now. She was here and she intended to help him through it.

Fastening her seat belt, she glanced over to make sure his was secure. She forced herself to remain calm as she put on her headphones and made routine preparations for take-off. She and Butch had refueled the plane and done a safety check the previous night after his training flight. There was nothing to stop them from flying.

She was going to go through the motions Logan couldn't bring himself to do. The Cessna was equipped with two sets of controls for training purposes, so she could do all the pi­loting unless he took over. If he objected, she'd stop immedi­ately. If not, they'd be past the first hurdle.

The plane's engine flared to life at her touch. The engine rum­bled with its familiar trembling force. Logan didn't move or speak. Dee couldn't bring herself to look at him, but she watched his knuckles turn white as he tightened his grip on the controls.

As slowly as possible, she coaxed the plane forward in a sweeping turn and then began to taxi down the runway. She was tense and ready to cut the engine if she heard even the slightest protest from him. When he didn't make a sound, she picked up the necessary speed to lift them off the ground. Once airborne, she turned the nose of the Cessna eastward over Bradford property and toward the horizon.

The sky was turning pink in celebration of a new dawn. It had been a long time since Dee had flown directly into the morning sun; greeting the day from an incomparable prospec­tive. It was a heady experience that never failed to enthrall her. She hoped it was something Logan loved, as well. There was always a chance he could conquer his fear and wipe out the bad memories by re-experiencing the simplest joys of flying.

The sun crept higher, turning the horizon into a kaleidoscope of gorgeous colors. Mother nature was putting on a spectacular show. Dee halted the plane's ascent and leveled off at a few hundred feet. The Kentucky terrain below them shimmered in the first rays of sunlight, while the giant orb launched itself into the sky.

For a few breathtaking minutes, Dee forgot everything but the incredible beauty of the horizon. She felt a renewed sense of wonderment. Somehow, all human endeavors paled in sig­nificance to such unmatched glory.

Gradually, as the sun rose higher, the brittle tension in the cockpit lessened. Her grip on the controls relaxed, and she felt some of the tightness easing from her body. Logan's knuckles were no longer white with strain. She dared a glance at him and noted a significant relaxing of his profile. The tension and fear that had held them both captive was lessening. She knew he was slowly coming to terms with the demons that had plagued him for so long.

She could feel his relief when a swell of elation began to replace the self-doubt he'd suffered for too many years. Beneath all his insecurity was a deep-seeded love of flying that was finally making an encore in his life.

A wild thrill swept through Dee as she realized that he was conquering his fear. He would be all right. In a flash of brilliance, the sun was incinerating the doubts and fears that had held him prisoner for so long. The fact that she'd helped him made her feel humble, yet proud.

All he'd needed was to get past the initial terror of taking to the air. She'd helped him do that. A wave of pure joy washed over Dee, thrilling her with their success. What was equally incredible was that she shared the joy with Logan, and that she could feel his spirit soar.

When he finally broke the silence, his voice was thick with emotion. “I'd like to take the controls.”

Her chest tightened with pride and her smile for him was beautiful. She made the necessary adjustments and then dropped her hands in her lap.

 “You've got it,” she whispered.

“You're not afraid to let me pilot?” he asked, his tone still rough.

“I trust you with my life,” she stated simply. You are my life, she added to herself.

Logan felt a lump rise in his throat, and he had to blink away the sudden dampness in his eyes. She trusted him and for the first time in years, he trusted himself. He felt whole again. Strength and confidence surged through him as he took control of the plane and all lingering fears diminished. He took a deep breath to ease the tightness in his chest.

In a matter of minutes Dee had given him more than he would ever be able to explain, more than he could ever thank her for, more than any man had a right to expect—her unequivocal faith in him.

His eyes were glued to the rising sun, but his tone was low and gruff when he next spoke.

“Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

Her heart swelled with emotion, her chest tightened and tears momentarily clouded her vision. She knew he loved her, he'd shown her in a hundred ways, but this was the first time in months that he'd given her the precious words.

“Not half as much as I love you,” came her husky reply.

Logan slowly altered their course so that the brilliance of the sunshine wouldn't blind them both. The thrill of piloting the plane was too intense to describe, yet it didn't compare to the wealth of emotion generated by the woman at his side.

“I love you more,” he insisted. This time a confident, teasing note altered his tone,

“I love you more,” she countered, accepting the verbal chal­lenge.

“Want to argue about it?”

“For a few years at least,” she teased, her tone light, but her meaning clear.

Logan's chest constricted. He didn't want her for a few years or even a few decades. He wanted her forever. Now that they'd destroyed the last barrier between them, he wanted a promise for the future.

“How about for the rest of our lives?” he asked in a deep, serious tone. He didn't even breathe while waiting for her re­ply, and he couldn't look at her. He wasn't sure he'd survive if she refused him.

Dee's heart began to pound with an intensity that stole her breath. What was Logan really asking her? Was he asking for a long-term commitment? She wanted the words.

“Is this a proposal of marriage?”

“'Til death,” he managed, suddenly taut with tension of a totally different kind.

She desperately wanted to agree, but they still hadn't dis­cussed her career. Kentucky was a long way from Prescott Air Service, and her career had caused a major rift between them.

“I'm still a professional pilot,” she reminded softly.

That didn't bother him now. They could work out some sort of compromise. He'd been planning for a long time. “Why do you think I had an airstrip built on my property?” he asked lightly.

Dee's eyes widened and fastened on the big man beside her. For the first time since they'd become airborne, he turned his head and their gazes tangled.

“You did that for me?” she asked in amazement.

“I love you,” he told her with his voice and the silvery brilliance of his eyes. He grasped one of her hands and brought it to his lips. After pressing a warm kiss to her palm, he placed it on the controls beneath his own. Then he turned his eyes to the sky again.

“I knew flying would always be an important part of your life,” he explained, “so I had to make it a part of mine again.”

Dee's chest was so tight that she could hardly breathe. Tears spilled down her cheeks. Logan had done that for her. He'd fought his own demons because he loved her.

He could have walked away from her and never looked back. He'd chosen to fight for what he wanted, even knowing that it would cause him the agony of coming to terms with his past. She felt a rush of guilt at having thrown that love back in his face by allowing him to believe she'd aborted their baby. Silently, she pledged to make it up to him by giving him her love every day for the rest of their lives.

Aloud, she managed to whisper, “Do you know how much I love you?”

“Not as much as I love you,” he teased again, then threw her with an unexpected question. “Do you think there's any chance you're pregnant?”

“Why?” she asked warily, hoping that it had nothing to do with his proposal.

Logan turned to her again, his eyes gleaming with wicked delight. “I've got an urge to do a few maneuvers, but I can wait if there's a chance it might upset you.”

The incredible beauty of his eyes made Dee's breath catch and her heart ache. For the first time since meeting him, she was getting a glimpse of the irresistible daredevil he must have been before the crash had changed his life. It made her giddy with excitement and proud to claim his love.

“I don't think I'm pregnant,” she told him. She didn't feel pregnant. “But I want you to know that I wouldn't have minded one little bit. I've been thinking a lot about having your baby, and I like the idea. I like it a whole lot.”

Logan's stomach muscles knotted and his throat went tight. He devoured her with his eyes. They were filled with pride, possessiveness, and an ever-present hunger. She was everything he'd ever wanted in a woman, and so much more.

“We'll work on it,” he promised with a gruff tone and glit­tering eyes. “Just as soon as my ring's on your finger.”

“That suits me fine,” she teased, stretching to press a kiss against his lips. “Now how about those maneuvers? I'm not con­fident enough to orchestrate them myself, but I like to ride along.”

Logan flashed her another devilish grin, lifted her hand to his lips, then placed it on his thigh. He returned his hands to the controls; his eyes automatically checked the instrument readings. Satisfied that all was well, he began to take them on a slow, easy roller coaster ride in the air.

He chuckled with deep satisfaction as the Cessna climbed, then dove, then rolled gently at his command. He hadn't for­gotten anything about flying. He hadn't lost his touch. It all came to him as easily as climbing on the back of his horse, but with a great deal more satisfaction.

After he'd temporarily sated his need for controlling the plane, he returned to the sky above Bradford Bluegrass and did an aerial pass over his property. He noticed a small crowd near the hangar.

“I think you've attracted an audience,” said Dee.

“They're probably more than a little shocked.”

“Shocked, but pleased, I imagine.” Dee knew that Mattie and Patti had been aware of his problem. She imagined that Jake had also been aware of it. They couldn't know that Logan was doing the piloting, but just the fact that he was in the cockpit would signify a lot.

“Do you suppose I should take it down?” he asked, sound­ing very much like a little boy who knew it was time to put away his toys, yet wasn't anxious to stop playing.

“I suppose,” she teased.

Logan guided the Cessna through another slow, gentle roll over the airfield, then turned back and aligned the plane with the end of the runway.

“Want me to take it down?” Dee asked.

“What's wrong?” he chided. “I thought you trusted me with your life.”

“I do.”

“But you're willing to bail me out if I lose my confidence?” he supplied.

“You bet.”

They shared a look filled with supreme love and understanding. “We make a pretty good team, don't we?”

Her grin deepened. “You bet.”

He reluctantly turned his attention to landing the plane. It had been a very long time for him, and the Cessna wasn't anything like the fighters he'd flown, but he still managed to set it down with a minimum of bouncing.

As soon as he'd taxied to a stop, he cut the engine and turned to Dee. She felt the waves of emotion flowing from him.

“Thanks,” he said with a wealth of feeling in the one short word.

“You're welcome,” she said, loving the deep satisfaction etched in his features. “I'll let you thank me properly when we don't have such a big audience.”

Logan's laughter was husky, deep-throated, and filled with masculine pleasure.

“That's a promise.”

By mutual agreement, they climbed from opposite sides of the plane. Logan's feet had barely touched the ground before Patti launched herself into his arms. “You did it! You did it!” she cried in excitement. “I knew you could!”

Logan hugged her close while shooting a glance at the oth­ers. Everyone on the property had come to watch the show. Mattie was mopping her eyes with her apron. Jake was sport­ing a broad grin, and Butch's eyes were lit in awe. The other hands stood back a distance, but looked just as impressed.

He tucked Patti under his arm and clasped the hand Jake had outstretched to him.

“Congratulations. That was some kind of flying.”

“Kid stuff,” Logan teased, “but it felt damned good.”

“How come you learned to do all that, and I'm just plugging along?” Butch wanted to know, the self-derogatory question bringing a round of laughter.

“I'll explain later,” Logan promised. Then his eyes were homing in on Dee.

She stood a few feet away, her eyes for him alone. Her heavy hair was tumbling over her shoulders in a disarray that she rarely allowed outside the bedroom. Her face was flushed, glowing, and filled with so much love that it made his heart stop and then race. The look that passed between them had Patti stepping aside. Everyone else backed up a few steps.

“I don't think you ever answered my question,” he said to Dee.

“I think you need to be a little more specific,” she replied breathlessly.

“Will you marry me?”

There was a collective gasp. Dee's breath caught at the ado­ration in his eyes. “Anytime, anywhere,” she replied softly.

A rousing cheer went up as he caught her in his arms. Despite the audience, he found her mouth with his and kissed her deeply and possessively.

Her arms slid around his neck, and he drew her closer. The softness of her body excited him, as always. Her sweet, womanly scent intoxicated him. He never seemed to be able to get her close enough. He never seemed to get enough of her heady kisses.

She was a dream come true. His dream. His woman. His only love. He silently vowed to cherish the gift of her love for eternity.

Dee's arms tightened and the rest of the world melted away. She wasn't a mind reader, but she was a receptor of deep emotion, and she felt the incredible strength of Logan's com­mitment. Nothing was ever going to tear them apart again. Whatever the future held, they could handle it together. Their love was that strong, that true, that special.

Also at Ellora’s Cave:

Ellora’s Cave

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