Borrowed Wife Read Online Free PDF Page B

swoop down on them and take over or would he let them sink away into
oblivion?
    His face
swam into her mind, first hard and cold and then warm and gentle as he had once
seemed to be. How could she have been so trusting, so naive? From the first she
had been under his spell and looking back, she could see that she had been
eager to believe anything, just be with him.
    After
that first evening Logan had called her day, but never at home; in fact she’d
thought he had idea where she lived. He’d wanted her to go out with him
constantly and Abigail bad taken to staying in town in the evenings to be with
him. Her father had made comment. He hadn’t known about Logan and she hadn’t
told him. He had, as usual, been wrapped up in his own schemes, his own plans
and, provided that she was at work each day, he’d paid no attention to her at
all.
    He had
always been like that. Without friends she would have been lonely. She had had
no mother by then and her father had discussed nothing but business. The fact
that more often than not she was late in at night had been no concern of his.
He’d simply assumed that she was with friends and Abigail had not enlightened
him because, deep down, she’d known that he would explode with rage.
    She’d
never thought of the way she had first met Logan, of the dark certainly of the
threat, but there was enough memory of it at the back of her mind to make her
keep her own counsel. Meanwhile she was ensnared, drowning in the silver-grey
of Logan’s eyes, bewitched by his smile.
    At the
weekends she was out all day with Logan, walking, driving, going to the theatre
and eating out. Sometimes they ate at little country places, sometimes in
rather exclusive restaurants where Abigail would have been intimidated had it
not been for the sight of him across the table from her, the way he took her
hand to lead her to her chair.
     
    He was
treating her carefully and she knew it. She was utterly enthralled by him but
he never let her get too close. Sometimes when she left him she felt
frustrated, longing for something she barely understood, longing for just one
moment of commitment, one kiss, but Logan him never did more than hold her hand
and smile into her eyes. She was completely safe with him and completed
bewildered by his actions.
    He didn’t seem to be able
to keep away from her for more than a day and yet he never pressed any
advantage and Abigail wished he would. She longed to be swept off her feet, to
dive headlong into the swirling attraction she felt for him.
    One
weekend they met at a restaurant and for the first few there was dancing. It
scared her a little to see the other people moving round the floor, and the
thought of being in Logan’s arms if he should ask her to dance made her
tremble. She had wanted to be in his arms since she had first seen him but
contrarily, now that the opportunity was near, she felt too shaken to condemn
it.
    ‘Come and
dance with me.’ Logan stood as they finished their meal and looked across at
her, his smiling eyes holding her fast.
    Tingles
ran down her spine and her legs would scarcely hold her up as she rose. He came
to her, his arm coming round her waist as he led her to the floor, and as he
touched her awareness shot through her like a flame. She wasn’t even thinking
at all as he turned her in his arms and began to move with her to the slow,
sensuous rhythm of the dance.
    Their
bodies touched for the first time and everything inside her flared more as she
felt the tightly leashed-in strength of him against ha softness. Beneath her
hand his shoulder tensed, his powerful muscles moving beneath the smooth cloth
of his jacket She looked up into his face but he was looking beyond her,
unsmiling, his face taut with something almost like anger, and saw again the
command he had, the control he had of his own mind and body. There was a
dominance and mastery about him that left her feeling awestricken.
    He looked
down at her, his gaze moving slowly over her