“You want to know the real reason you let me in here tonight?” he asked after a long moment in which she attached a great deal of importance to smoothing the fabric of her robe over her legs.

  “By all means. Enlighten me.”

  “Even though you’re trying to deny it—to me and probably to yourself too—the real reason you opened the door is because you really wanted to see me.”

  The hand smoothing the robe stopped abruptly. “You and Johnny have more in common than I’d thought. His ego needs deflating too. I’m surprised either one of you could fit your heads through my front door.”

  His grin snuck back, the ease of its recurrence no longer surprising him. While he liked and respected her soft side, this feisty twist was a treat he was beginning to warm up to.

  “Carmen, look at me.”

  When she stubbornly kept her head down, he pried the hand she’d fisted from her lap and folded it between both of his.

  “Then listen to me. It’s not as if we aren’t in this together. It’s not as if I don’t know that this is probably a huge mistake. The simple truth is that I want to see you. I want to get to know you better. I want you to get to know me. Me,” he repeated when she angled her chin at him. “Logan Prince. Not a man you thought was someone else.”

  She was quiet for a very long time. “You were never like him.”

  He absorbed her softly spoken statement, unable to decide if she’d paid him a compliment or expressed regret. “I wish I knew what that meant.”

  “It means I should have known you weren’t Johnny.”

  He squeezed her hand. “Maybe you did know. Maybe you didn’t want to admit it.”

  A denial formed on her lips. That’s as far as it got. She couldn’t deny it because what he’d said was true. Her inability to dispute him confirmed it and gave him hope.

  He looked at her hand, felt both her fragility and her strength, and a little weakness that was his own.

  “You need to know something, Carmen. Something I’ve suspected since I first met you and realized with certainty after I left you this morning. This is new for me too. This business of wanting someone to know me. I’ve got to tell you that it’s a little unsettling. I’ve never opened myself up like this before. And I never thought that when the time came, it would be to a woman.”

  Her brow furrowed in confusion.

  “There’s more to me than money,” he went on. “More than a business machine and a fast track to social position and wealth. Few people have ever bothered to look past that. No woman has ever tried. Until you.

  “From the beginning,” he continued, choosing his words carefully, “even when you thought I was Dallas, I wanted to know what it would be like to be evaluated by a woman as a man. Only a man, not a free ride, not a trophy.”

  It had been a difficult admission. Relief flooded him when he saw that she understood what it was costing him.

  “I can’t tell you how special that feeling was— how special that feeling is—for me. I don’t want to give it up. Not so soon. Not until I see where this is going.”

  She swallowed hard and closed her eyes in a vain attempt to hide her indecision. In that moment he knew there was no way in hell he would let her go without a fight.

  “What do you say, Carmen? Are you willing to give me a chance? All I’m asking is that you don’t say no,” he added quickly. “Not to the possibilities. Not to your feelings. Not to us.”

  He brought her hand to his mouth and placed a lingering kiss there. When he felt her hand tremble, he looked up and found her watching him with a breath-stealing mixture of turmoil, compassion, and longing . . . enough longing to tell him he stood better than a passing chance at winning her.

  He’d gambled fortunes with better odds, yet the stakes paled when pitted against what he stood to lose if he blew it with her.

  Instinct told him to take it slow. To let her get used to the idea of thinking of the two of them together.

  “Keep thinking about it, Carmen. Tonight, when you’re alone, when you’re wondering about the way it could be between us, think about the possibilities.”

  He was thinking of them too. And if he didn’t get out of here soon, he’d have no choice but to act on his thoughts.

  “I’m going to go now,” he said, though it was the last thing he wanted to do. “You’re tired. You need some sleep . . . and if I stay any longer, I can’t promise I’ll be able to let that happen.”

  Her eyes darkened with shock, then with desire.

  “Can I see you tomorrow?”

  “I’ve got to work tomorrow,” she said quickly. So quickly he knew she still hadn’t accepted the inevitable.

  He smiled as he rose, never letting go of her hand. “Haven’t you figured out yet that you can’t lie to me?”

  “Okay,” she admitted grumpily, allowing him to tug her to her feet. “So I’m not working. But I promised to spend some time at the clinic.”

  “Whatever,” he said agreeably, and pulled her with him to the door. “But I will see you tomorrow. Bank on it.”

  Her eyes were melting chocolate as she looked up at him, a part of her wanting to stand firm, a part of her leaning into instead of away from his arms.

  “Kiss me good night. Please,” he said, pulling her gently toward him. “Not because I’m asking you to. But because it feels right. Because you want to kiss me . . . me, Logan Prince. Because you know who I am, instead of who I’m not.”

  Bracing her hands on his chest, she searched his face. “I’m not sure if I’ll ever know who you really are.”

  “Then now is as good a time as any to start finding out.”

  Folding her snugly against him, he lowered his mouth to hers. With a hesitancy born of her uncertainty, with a willingness that gave way to her longing, she very slowly met him halfway.

  Trust was his goal. Tenderness was his approach. But when she relaxed against him and leaned into the kiss, it took every ounce of control he possessed to keep from sweeping her into his arms and carrying her off to bed.

  Silken moments later he broke the kiss. On a deep, shaky breath he touched his lips to her hair. “Someday,” he whispered, smoothing his hand up and down the length of her braid, “I’m going to earn the right to undo this.”

  He pulled back to look at her face. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, her mouth sweetly parted, expectant, waiting. “Someday I’m going to see your hair spread across my pillow. I’m going to see your body spread across my sheets.”

  She shivered and closed her eyes at the vividly erotic picture he’d painted.

  “Know it, Carmen. Know it’s going to happen. And know that when it does, it will be because you want to be there with me.”

  He kissed her again, deeply, sweetly. “And know this. When it happens, there will be no turning back. Once I finally have you, I don’t intend to let you go.”

  Carmen’s hands were shaking as she closed the door. With clumsy fingers, she slid the dead bolt home, turned the latch, then sagged heavily against the door.

  For a long time she stood there, recovering from his kiss. When she could move, she walked to her bedroom, slipped out of her robe and into her sleep shirt, and with a frustrated groan flopped to her back on the bed. Flinging her hands above her head, she stared at the cracks spidering the ceiling.

  He kissed her with such hunger. He held her with such possession. Above it all, though, he appealed to her with a need that was bone deep, but that he’d let surface with his gruff admissions. She believed him when he’d told her he’d never shared himself with anyone.

  And yet he wanted to share himself with her.

  He’d told her not only in words, but through his touch, by the restraint he’d shown in not taking her physically when they’d both known she was helpless to resist him, that he would give her time to reach the same conclusion.

  She didn’t need any more time. A few steamy kisses and she totally lost her head. A few heated looks, the brush of his body against hers, and she’d been ready to throw reason to the wind and get lost in the storm he created.

  Perhaps it was her physical response to him that frightened her most of all. She felt helpless when he touched her. She felt wanton and wanting and unabashedly ruled by her body’s demands.

  Telling herself it was his resemblance to Johnny that kept throwing her off balance wasn’t cutting it anymore. The truth was it was the differences, not the similarities that had her mired in doubt.

  Johnny Dallas had been the stuff fantasies were made of. His pretty face, his flashing eyes and devil smile all warned a woman away at the same that they compelled her to follow. They also told a woman up front what she’d be risking if she dared play with his brand of fire. He was a “bad boy” committed to his fun. Long-term involvement would never be a part of his plans.

  Logan Prince, however, was the stuff that made a woman want to believe in the dream. Despite the fact that he had lied to her, she wanted to believe him when he told her why he hadn’t played the charade through to the end.

  Yes, it was differences between Logan and Johnny that made Logan the kind of man she could care about. It was the man Logan Prince really was that made her want to love him.

  “Why are you thinking about love again?” she muttered into the silence of the bedroom. “None of it matters anyway.”

  They came from different worlds. Socially. Financially. She was no match for his sophistication. She no more belonged in his circle than he belonged in hers. Yet here she lay, in her discount-store sheets and her low-rent apartment, wanting to believe in miracles. Wanting to believe that Logan Prince could be her prince who’d tried to hide in the guise of a pauper. That when the story ended, he wouldn’t walk away out of boredom, but that he’d ride away into the sunset with her at his side.

  “And your next shift at the trauma center will pass without an emergency,” she muttered, weary with herself, weary of her wishing.

  She had to stop and face facts. No matter how pretty his words, no matter how seductive his kisses, there was no storybook ending in sight.

  She rolled to her side and tucked a pillow to her aching breasts as a memory of his large hands holding her, of his hungry mouth seducing her increased the ache. She closed her eyes on a groan, as a deep craving grew inside her.

  They would become lovers.

  There. She’d admitted it. And in doing so, she’d accepted it.

  Restless, yearning for something that couldn’t be, she rolled to her other side and thought back to his parting kiss. To his parting words and the way he seemed to crawl inside her head and know the perfect way to touch her in order to leave her melting and wondering. Wondering about love. Wishing it were in the cards.

  CHARADE

  Cindy Gerard

  EIGHT

  Since she hadn’t been able to sleep anyway—and she had Logan Prince to thank for that—Carmen had risen at five, showered, and caught a bus to Casa de Amigos. Even so early, the twenty-four-hour clinic hadn’t been lacking for activity. Besides, whenever a momentary lull settled over the place, there was the endless paperwork that had to be done.

  When she headed out the health center’s doors at noon, she’d put in six solid hours of volunteer work. And when she hit the heat of the street, the exhaustion of the last couple of days caught up with her— until she looked toward the curb. The fatigue melted away when she saw the man and the boy waiting for her there.

  “Juan,” she cried in surprised delight, scooping him greedily into her arms when he came barreling toward her.

  He snuggled up against her for a sweet, clinging moment, then bouncing with barely leashed energy, tugged her toward the man who had brought him to see her.

  Slowly she met Logan’s gaze, her tentative smile laced with wonder and thanks.

  Wearing khaki chinos, a soft white cotton shirt, and a sexy, I-could-look-at-you-forever expression, he pushed away from the door of a flashy, low-slung, midnight-blue sports car.

  “Hi,” he said in that gravelly voice that had whispered through her dreams last night and was in part responsible for her restless sleep.

  She held his gaze as he walked toward her, unable to conceal her pleasure at seeing him. “Hi, yourself.”

  Self-assured, without guilt, without guile, without a thought of hesitation, he leaned to her and placed a lingering hello kiss on her mouth. “I told you I’d see you today.”

  “Yes,” she said breathlessly. “You did, didn’t you?”

  Attempting to slow the wild flutter of her heart, she glanced down at Juan, then braved a look back at Logan. “I guess I’m going to have to start believing you mean what you say.”

  The smile that unfolded on his ruggedly handsome face was slow and mellow. “And I guess I’m going to have to keep giving you reasons to believe.”

  Seeing him like this was reason enough, she decided. Sullen and dark, his face was devastatingly appealing. But when he was smiling and relaxed, he took her breath away.

  Like now. The look in his eyes told her he recognized that much more than words and a simple hello kiss had just passed between them. It was the beginning of a trust he’d asked for and that she was cautiously giving. It was the crossing of a line. Above all, though, it was a sudden sense of rightness that went a long way toward erasing past wrongs.

  “Come on,” he said. “Time, as they say, is a-wasting.”

  With his hand warm and possessive at the small of her back, he leaned down to open the passenger door. “Do you want to go home to change before we get started?”

  She shook her head. Her white pants and uniform top would have to do. “Not on your life. I don’t want to waste a minute.”

  Their gazes held for the briefest of moments before she settled Juan into a brand new car seat in the back seat.

  “How did you arrange this?” she asked as Logan eased behind the wheel.

  He shrugged. “What good is money if it doesn’t open a few doors?”

  Though she was grateful, she really didn’t want to hear any more. Juan’s rare weekend visits were doled out with judicious prudence by the group home counselors. If Logan could increase the time she could spend with Juan, his motives held far more import than his methods.

  And his motives, she was beginning to believe as Logan glanced over his shoulder, grinned at Juan and gave him a thumbs-up sign, were honest and real.

  “How long do we get to keep him?” she asked, realizing as she did that without giving it a second thought, she’d included Logan in their plans.

  He realized it, too, though he was tactful enough not to point it out. “Only for the afternoon.”

  Though she’d been hoping for more, she told him with her smile how precious these few hours would be. And how much his gesture meant to her.

  His gaze grew dark with a need she recognized because it matched her own.

  “We thought you might be hungry,” he said, dragging his attention to the traffic as he shifted into low and pulled out onto the street.

  “And what did you think I might be hungry for?” She shifted around and signed the question for Juan.

  He quickly signed back his favorite meal.

  She laughed. “You’re right. I couldn’t live another single solitary minute without burgers and fries.”

  After an enthusiastic lunch, it was off to another of Juan’s favorite places—the museum again—where Juan shared all his discoveries with Logan.

  “He doesn’t seem to be confused,” Logan said as they walked from one display to another. “About the fact that I’m not Dallas, I mean.”

  “He’s a smart kid,” she agreed, remembering Juan’s thoughtful looks when she explained how Johnny and Logan looked alike but were not the same men or even brothers. “And even though he liked Johnny, he informs me he likes you too.”

  A spontaneous grin flashed. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” she confirmed, touched beyond measure by how pleased that information made him and by the importance he gave to Juan’s feelings. Touched even more by his follow-up question and the recurrence of that vulnerability he was so hesitant to reveal.

  “Have you heard from him?”

  “Johnny? No, I haven’t. But I don’t expect to.” Juan had latched onto her hand and was dragging her off in another direction.

  The rest of the day flew by. Too soon the afternoon was over and they’d reluctantly delivered a happily exhausted Juan back to the group home.

  Logan was silent beside her as they walked back down the group-home steps to his car. Carmen settled into the passenger seat and, closing her eyes, leaned her head against the headrest as Logan shut the door behind him.

  He was quiet for a long time before he touched her shoulder. “It’s going to be all right, Carmen. You’re not going to lose him.”

  She wished she could believe he was right. But until it was over and the courts made their decision, she couldn’t let herself hope.

  She turned to him. “Thank you for today. I needed to see him. And what you did, arranging it, was very special.”

  “You’re very special.” He leaned toward her. “And I like very much taking care of your needs.”

  Very softly, very invitingly, he kissed her, leaving her weak and wanting and as needy as she’d ever felt.

  She all but whimpered when he pulled away and buckled her seat belt.

  “And what you need now,” he said, reaching for the ignition, “is sleep. You’re exhausted.”

  He made it so easy to lean on him. To count on him. He made it so desirable to believe that life was as simple as they wanted it to be.

  But life wasn’t simple and neither was it always kind. Her willingness to forget about those truths was telling about her growing feelings for this man. Equal measures of frustration and a wistful kind of hope were threaded through her tired sigh. “I really don’t understand you.”

  He sat back, his hand poised on the gearshift. “What is it that you don’t understand?”

  “All of this,” she said, gesturing with an expansive wave of her hand. “Why you did this today. Why you’re here.” She turned to look out the window and in a small voice added, “Why you’re here with me.”