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Logan shifted his body towards hers, reaching up his hand towards her face. He ran one finger across her forehead. Her eyes automatically closed and the finger traced down over her eyelids, cheeks, across her lips then under her chin and to the tender skin of her décolletage.
He leaned closer, the heat from his body spreading towards hers.
And then he murmured those words again.
‘It’s you Lucia, it’s always been you.’
Before, she’d been shocked. They’d been in the middle of Piazza San Marco with a crowd of onlookers. Here, it was entirely private. All she could hear was the movement of the gondola slipping through the waters of Venice.
She squeezed her eyes closed again for a few seconds. Her hand reached up towards him. She couldn’t help it. She couldn’t be this close to Logan and not touch him. It was all she could think about.
She felt him suck in a breath as she ran the palm of her hand along his now-stubbled jaw.
If she could suspend the past—suspend the memories—then everything about Logan was perfect.
Now, as he said the words it was just the two of them. Her heart wanted to melt. Her lips wanted to respond. She wanted to say it had only ever been him. She wanted to tell him that she’d never felt the same about anyone else—she couldn’t feel the same about anyone else.
Without Logan she wasn’t living. She was only existing.
She didn’t want to just exist any more.
This time when he bent to kiss her she matched him move for move. She ran her hands through his dark hair and pulled him closer to her, pressing her breasts against his chest.
Logan knew how to kiss. He really knew how to kiss. There was a zing as their lips met. Teeth grazed her lips. Then his lips were firmly on hers. Tasting her, caressing her. Full sweet lips on hers, filling her with so much promise, so much expectation.
The zings didn’t stop at her lips but carried on right around her body, like an army on rapid attack. She couldn’t help her responses. She couldn’t help but push harder against his body, her hands exploring his back and shoulders.
The kiss intensified with every passing second, sparking a whole host of memories throughout her body. It didn’t matter that their eyes were closed. With this kiss Logan could see every part of her, burrow his way to the centre of her closed-over soul.
She’d always felt threatened by their closeness after the death of their daughter. Fear had pushed her into a position of retreat, because even though she’d told Logan she couldn’t talk about things, once he’d kissed her she always felt at her most vulnerable. Her most open.
His earthy scent swam around her. His fingers stroked the back of her neck, giving her a promise of what was to come.
His kisses moved lower, along her cheek and down the delicate skin of her neck. For a moment she almost objected. She didn’t want his lips to leave hers.
But Logan knew all her secret places. Knew the tiny spot at the back of her ear that made her gasp with pleasure and lose all rational thought. Before she’d even thought about it her head was arching backwards, opening up the more sensitive skin at the bottom of her throat.
And Logan didn’t hesitate. He was on it in a flash. She wanted to move. Her dress was inching upwards, his hand brushing against her thighs. But space was cramped under the canopy, with nowhere really to go, and they both jumped apart as the gondola jerked suddenly as it scraped against wood.
She sat back in the love seat, trying to still her ragged breaths. There was another couple of bumps.
It had been deliberate. Of course it had. They’d reached their destination and their gondolier had enough experience to allow his guests a moment of warning.
Was this it? Was this where this evening ended?
Logan pulled back the canopy and stood up, straightening his rumpled jacket and shirt and then turning towards her. He didn’t speak, just held out his hand towards her.
What happened next was up to her.
It was her apartment. Her space. She’d offered him somewhere to stay for the weekend, without even considering this as a possibility.
The sun had set now. The warm orange glow from earlier had disappeared.
But now Venice was alive with a million different lights brightening up the almost black sky. Logan was outlined like a film star on his final movie shot.
The backdrop was stunning with the beautiful architecture along the Grand Canal and silhouetted gondolas around them.
But all she could focus on was Logan.
Because she knew exactly how this night would end.
It was already written in the stars twinkling in the sky above their head.
