She’d no sooner pulled on shorts and a top then the doorbell
rang for the second time. But as before, it wasn’t the one person
Mica needed to see.
“Katie, what on earth are you doing here?” Mica wedged
herself between Katie and the door. Momentarily forgetting he
couldn’t be seen, she frantically waved at Logan, hoping he
would take the hint and step into her bedroom.
“Is that any way to greet a friend who left her children and
husband quietly sleeping and sneaked away like a thief in the
night?” Katie tilted her head to the side, and Mica knew she
had to think fast.
“Of course not. I’m sorry. It’s just that things have not
gone according to plan this morning.” Mica glanced back into
the apartment to see Logan move toward her bedroom. For the
first time since his ghostly arrival at Sea Crest, a mischievous
smile darted across his face.
He stepped out of sight but his voice clearly reached her.
“It has come to my attention that I can neither be seen nor
heard. Do you recall my telling you I try to make the best of
any situation?” He popped his head past the door and graced
Mica with a wicked grin.
“This situation could prove very interesting.”
Ten
Mica’s gaze jumped from Logan back to Katie. She should
be glad to see her friend, but it would only complicate things if
Katie stayed too long. While Logan might pretend to be amused
by harassing her in front of her friends, she knew it was just a
cover-up for his not having control of the situation.
She sighed. Deciding for the moment to do as Logan
suggested and adapt, she pasted a smile on her face. She
wondered what Katie would say about Logan and felt a twinge
of regret. Her best friend would never meet the best thing to
ever happen to her.
Inspiration struck as she opened the door wider for Katie
to enter. Perhaps, as her closest friend and confidant, Katie
might be able to see Logan. Perhaps Richard couldn’t because
of his animosity towards her.
As Katie plopped on the couch, Mica signaled for Logan
to come out of the bedroom. “Katie, I want you to meet someone
special.”
“I’m glad you’ve finally met someone. It’s time you forget
Richard and get on with your life.” Katie looked up as she
spoke. Mica saw no surprise register, even though Logan now
stood at her side. Her friend continued, “Now tell me about
this new guy. Is he that handsome hunk you mentioned last
week?”
Logan laughed.
Mica groaned.
“His name is Thomas Logan Rutledge.”
“Nice name. What does he look like?” Katie asked, tucking
her legs under her on the couch.
“Katie, can’t you see?” Mica asked in exasperation.
“See what?”
“Logan.”
“Michaela Marie, I thought a vacation would do you good,
but you’re sure acting strange. How could I have seen him
when I haven’t met him?”
Logan laughed as he said, “I thought this would be
interesting. I just didn’t realize how much. Please tell Miss
Katie that though she can’t see me, I am flattered to make her
acquaintance.”
Disheartened, Mica spoke to Logan without thinking to
lower her voice. “It doesn’t matter now. I guess you can leave.”
“Leave? I just got here.” Katie straightened from the couch,
her brow furrowed.
“I didn’t mean you. I...” Mica frowned as she looked from
Katie to Logan. “Excuse me a minute. I’ll get us some coffee.”
As she walked towards the kitchenette, she whispered to
Logan, “Come here!”
Once she had the safety of a wall between her and the
living room, she turned, only to find Logan so close she yelped
in fright. “I wish you’d quit sneaking up on me. You might as
well stay in here or lie down in the bedroom. She can’t see
you, anyway.”
Logan had the audacity to grin. “I think I’ll stay. What else
did you say about me besides being a handsome hunk? And
I’m assuming that hunk, whatever it means, is a compliment.”
Mica moaned. “I should have added conceited and
arrogant.” She picked up two mugs of coffee and turned toward
the door. “If you insist on staying in the same room, please
don’t talk to me. It’s confusing holding two conversations at
once.”
“What did you say?” Katie shouted from the living room.
“I can’t hear you in here.”
Mica gave Logan a see-what-I-mean look. Pressing her
mouth in a firm line, she struggled for the determination to
ignore him.
Mica really did try to concentrate on Katie’s chattering as
they sipped their coffee. From the corner of her eye, she noticed
Logan wander past the windows, then pause at the desk and
study the telephone. At least he was respecting her wishes and
being silent.
Katie had just finished regaling Mica about last weekend’s
country club dance when a flash of white sailed across Mica’s
vision to land at her feet. Startled, she turned to where she had
last seen Logan, only to find he had moved directly across the
room from where she sat. Her eyes widened. His naked chest,
though pale in his ghostlike state, radiated heat even from this
distance! She jerked her gaze to the floor to find his translucent
shirt in a puddle.
“Quit that,” she said loudly without thinking.
“You don’t have to yell at me. I know I shouldn’t bite my
nails,” Katie said, hands fluttering to rest in her lap, “but you
know me. Old habits are hard to break.”
Mica tore her gaze away from Logan. “What?” she
squawked as she heard a thunk. Logan’s belt landed on top his
shirt. She squeezed her eyes shut.
“My nails. Mica, you don’t look well. Are you feeling
okay?” Katie reached over to pat her hand.
“I’m...fine.” Mica could barely swallow as two consecutive
thuds sounded from Logan’s vicinity. She didn’t think she could
bear to look, but she couldn’t bear not knowing.
Logan stood across the room, clad in only his snug black
trousers. His bare chest glistened in the early morning light.
He wiggled his bare feet.
Mica had never considered a man’s feet sensuous, but as
part of the whole sexy package parading before her, they almost
caused her to hyperventilate. She dragged her gaze up his form,
her insides churning and her blood pounding. He looked pretty
real at that moment, not like a phantom at all. She held her
breath and counted to five before slowly exhaling. It didn’t
help.
He had respected her wishes and hadn’t spoken, but the
taunting smile on his kissable lips was hot enough to turn
everything around them to cinder. She squeezed her knees
together, the ache inside reaching fever pitch, and still she
couldn’t tear her gaze from him.
In slow motion, he slid hi
s hands from his hips to the very
center of his belly and then down. His gaze locked on her face,
and her gaze locked on his hands as they leisurely unbuttoned
his pants. One button—two—
Mica groaned out loud, her head falling back against the
couch as heat flashed through her. She just knew she had been
struck by lightning.
“You are sick, Mica! Your face is flushed, and you’re
trembling.” Katie jumped up and immediately swung Mica’s
legs onto the couch. She propped a pillow behind her head.
Hurrying toward the kitchen, she said over her shoulder,
“I’m going to fix you some herbal tea and then let you rest. I
swear, I don’t know of anyone but you who could exhaust
themselves on vacation.” Katie’s voice trailed off as she rattled
around in the next room.
Mica fully expected Logan to complete the striptease he
had started. His expression told her he was aware of her
anticipation, but the minute Katie disappeared, he quit
undressing and moved towards her. He knelt beside the couch.
“Are you ill? You look quite flushed.” His voice expressed
concern, but his eyes twinkled, and the corners of his mouth
twitched.
“You know perfectly well exactly what’s wrong with me.
Just wait until I get you back to where you’re solid enough to
smack. Of all the low-down, rotten—”
“I want you – desperately.” His whispered entreaty made
the ache at her core worse.
“You’re shameless.”
“You’re beautiful when you’re all hot and flushed. I think
I should like to keep you that way for an extremely long time.”
Though she couldn’t feel his hand when he touched her cheek,
the exotic sensations she always experienced in his presence
suffused her with color once again.
“First, we have to get you back home,” she said just as
Katie entered from the kitchen.
“I know I need to get home. I have no doubt Matthew will
be upset, even though I left him a note saying I came up here.”
Katie set a steaming cup of tea on the table by Mica’s head and
bent to touch her forehead with the back of her hand. “You
don’t feel hot, though your face is still flushed. I suggest you
rest and not do anything strenuous. I’ll call tomorrow.”
Mica started to rise, not nearly as overheated now that
Logan had started putting his clothes back on.
“Now don’t get up. I can see myself out,” Katie said as she
headed for the door.
“I’m not sick, really.” Mica said, though her legs wobbled
slightly when she stood.
“Mica...Now who can that be?” Katie asked as a knock
sounded at the door. “I’ll get rid of them on my way out.”
“No,” Mica and Logan shouted at once, though Mica’s
voice was the only one echoing through the small apartment.
She rushed forward as Katie opened the door.
“Mr. Whitney, have you managed to fix the lock?” Mica
asked as soon as she saw the man standing in the hall.
“I’ve done what I can, but without a key, I don’t know if it
will work.” The gray-haired locksmith stood to one side as
Katie exited the apartment.
“Mica, don’t be worrying about some door.” Katie gave
her a final hug.
“I’m fine, Katie. Give Matthew and the kids a kiss for
me.”
“There’s just over a week until the big Labor Day
celebration. You’ll be back in Charleston by then, won’t you?”
Katie kept talking even as she walked down the hall toward
the outside entrance.
Labor Day! Mica didn’t even want to think about that.
Already she was thinking about asking her father for an
extension. “We’ll see. Bye, Katie.”
In the next breath she turned to Mr. Whitney, who had stood
patiently waiting. “Thank you for responding so quickly to my
call. If you’ll just send me a bill, I’ll see that it’s paid promptly.”
“Don’t you want to see if the lock works first?” He frowned,
and Mica knew he didn’t understand why she had made the
job sound so urgent if she wasn’t going to check out the door.
“I’m sure you’ve done your best, and I’ll pay you regardless
of whether or not the door works.” Mica prayed the man would
leave. She only hoped no one else came calling before she could
disappear upstairs with Logan. She glanced at her watch—
less than an hour before Sunday brunch. Hopefully all the guests
would still be sleeping or already out of their rooms. She
certainly didn’t need Mrs. Barker interfering right at this
moment.
“I guess that does it then. I’ll send you a bill.” Mr. Whitney
left, and Mica breathed a sigh of relief. As soon as the door
closed behind him, she hurried to her bedroom to retrieve the
key.
Logan waited by her apartment door. She thought it strange
that he had not tried walking through doors or walls. She
supposed that even though he was transparent to her, he still
felt himself whole and unable to perform such feats.
“Ready?” she whispered, though no one was in sight.
“I’ve been ready to return since this nightmare started. I
don’t understand how you can enjoy this world where
with rapid irregularity, and there’s such an incredible amount
of noise.”
Mica moved swiftly up the stairs as she mulled over what
Logan had said. He was right. Modern life did have its
drawbacks, but if she had gotten stuck back in his time without
the key, she would miss—what would she miss? Except for
Katie and her parents, Mica couldn’t think of a thing she
couldn’t live without if she had to.
She held her breath as she inserted the key in the lock and
turned it. A soft click brought her breath whooshing out. “It
works.” She experienced the familiar tingle as she turned the
knob and swung the door open.
Logan stepped quickly over the threshold. She hadn’t
consciously thought about returning with him and she
tentatively reached out to touch his arm. He grabbed her wrist
and jerked her through the doorway, his grip unbearably tight.
“Hey! What are you doing?” Her question and rising anger
at his proprietary attitude melted away when his lips crushed
hers. His arms circled her in a bruising hug, and yet Mica
understood exactly what he needed. She had felt incomplete
during his stay at Sea Crest—moving about the same rooms,
talking, yet unable to touch. It had been torture for her, too.
“God, you are real.” Logan clasped her to his chest, his
breath harsh in her ear as he moaned her name again and again.
He couldn’t seem to quit touching her, his hands roaming the
contours of her back. He kissed along her hairline, down her
cheek and across the bridge of her nose, punctuating each word
with yet another kiss.
“I thought I was losing my mind. I’ve never felt so
helples
s.” He clutched her shoulders and pushed her away
enough to search her face, frowning.
“What an incredible nightmare. Thank God I’m awake now,
and you didn’t really fall through that door.”
“But Logan, it wasn’t a dream.” Mica had wondered how
long it would take before his initial reaction of wonder wore
off.
“I don’t want to discuss it. Just stay here by my side and
let me touch you—let me know you really exist and that the
past weeks haven’t been an hallucination.” Logan swung her
up into his arms, his grip possessively tight but no longer
crushing.
Mica pulled away from his embrace as much as she could,
dread creeping up her spine at his expression. He stared past
her to the door, the look of disbelief still clearly written on his
features. She could tell he really didn’t believe they had visited
the other side. “Logan, you can’t just wish away what
happened.”
His gaze returned to her face, the haunted look fading. He
spun on his heel and carried her toward her bedroom. “I have
only one wish,” he stated as he kicked the door closed. “That
is to make love to you until we’re both too breathless and
exhausted to think of anything else.”
***
Logan watched Michaela sleep, curled against his side,
her warmth radiating against his own bare skin. He idly turned
the brass key over and over in his hands.
It was far too late to save his heart—they’d gone beyond
the point of no return. And yet he didn’t know how to convince
Michaela she belonged to him, not to some far-fetched time as
she would lead him to believe.
He fingered the key. He had known there was something
unique and special about her. She had come to him in the night,
with no clothes and no reason, and he hadn’t questioned her.
He snorted. He had definitely known better than to question
her. He hadn’t wanted the dream to burst—hadn’t wanted to
admit he’d fallen in love with an illusion. But as he gazed on
her now, warm and soft against him, he realized she was no
phantom in his time.
Different from any other woman in both manner and dress,
she stood up to him and spoke her mind. She willingly
participated in the concerns of the plantation. Other women