The darkness of the garden folded over them, creating an atmosphere of intimacy that seemed to mock her. Here she was, lying in the darkness, on a perfect summer’s evening, holding hands with the man she loved while he told her about another woman that interested him.
‘Maybe. I don’t know. I’m in dangerous territory.’
‘Because you feel guilty about Catherine?’
‘Strangely enough, no. I don’t feel guilty. I probably should, but I don’t. If there’s one thing that I learned from Catherine, it’s that life is to be lived.’
‘That’s true.’ Evanna smiled. ‘She was a very adventurous person. A bit wild. If she were standing here now, she’d probably just want to know why it’s taken you so long. So, if you don’t feel guilty and you’re not worried about what anyone thinks, why is it dangerous territory? What’s holding you back?’
He was looking at her and he still hadn’t let go of her hand. ‘Because I’m not sure that the woman in question is interested in me.’
‘Logan MacNeil, I never heard such nonsense! Women have been falling over you since you first learned to walk. And you’ve never been one to hold back! Just ask her!’
‘You think I should ask a woman for sex?’
Evanna laughed to hide her embarrassment. ‘I think you might need to be a little more subtle than that or someone might slap your face.’
‘So what should I do?’
Just smile, she wanted to say. That’s all it would take in her case. One smile and she’d be his for ever. ‘Give her one of your hot looks! I don’t know, you’re the expert,’ she mumbled. ‘If ever a man knew how to put the moves on a woman, it was you. There were more broken hearts in our school than in a coronary care unit.’
He smiled at her analogy. ‘That was a long time ago. In my wild, reckless youth.’
Despite the humour in his tone, she decided not to point out that he’d still been breaking hearts up to the day before he’d met Catherine, which had only been two years previously. ‘Well, I’m sure it’s like riding a bicycle,’ Evanna joked weakly. ‘Just get back out there. Go for it. There are no end of possible candidates. Loads of women who aren’t your patients. Polly in the pub. She’s very pretty. Or Mary Simon, who helps Meg in the café. Any woman would want to be asked out by you.’
He didn’t release her hand. ‘Would they?’
His thigh was pressed hard against hers.
‘Of course.’ His features seemed dark and unfamiliar and she swallowed hard. ‘What do you think?’
It was a moment before he answered. ‘I think that sometimes when something is incredibly familiar, we don’t always notice it. We think something is a certain way and then suddenly we discover that we were entirely wrong. And that takes some adjustment.’
He was talking in riddles. Her eyes slid to the empty bottle on the ground but it was a small bottle and there was only the one so it couldn’t be that. And, anyway, she hadn’t known Logan to drink to excess since that one occasion on the beach on his seventeenth birthday when she and Kyla had spent an entire night holding his head over a bowl while he’d been sick. ‘You think Polly and Mary don’t notice you? Because I can tell you now that they—’
‘I’m not talking about Polly or Mary.’ His gaze was steady on hers and her stomach performed a series of elaborate acrobatics.
Determined not to read something into his words that wasn’t there, she kept her tone matter-of-fact. ‘Well, if you’re suggesting that people see you as a widower and not as a man, I don’t think that’s true, Logan. If you’re interested in someone then you should just go for it.’
‘You think so? You think I should go for it?’
‘Definitely.’ She ignored the new surge of misery that flooded through her veins. Here she was, advising the man she loved to go out and find another woman. But he deserved happiness and so did Kirsty. And he deserved a sex life. But it was impossible not to feel envious of the woman who was going to find herself burning up the sheets with Logan. ‘Find the right moment and go for it.’
His eyes dropped to her mouth and for a wild, crazy moment she really thought he was going to kiss her. She even found herself leaning towards him.
And then she remembered her promise to herself, snatched her hand from his and struggled out of the hammock, almost twisting her ankle and landing flat on her bottom in the process. ‘It isn’t easy to stand up from one of these with dignity,’ she said in a strangled voice, horrified to realise just how close she’d come to kissing him.
‘Evanna, you don’t have to—’
‘I should really be going,’ she said in a bright voice. ‘I mean, I just came to check up on you. And you should be going. Inside, I mean. Because you can’t go anywhere because you’re already here. Obviously.’ Nerves made her babble incoherently and she almost groaned as she listened to herself.
What must he think of her?
No wonder he didn’t find her sexy. She didn’t have the first clue about seducing men.
Logan simply watched her, his handsome face unsmiling. ‘So that’s it? You’re leaving?’
What did he expect? Did he want her to pull out a pad and pen and start drawing up a list of possible candidates for his sexual pleasure?
‘It’s late.’ She waved a hand in the vague direction of the gate. ‘I should be going, and you should be—’
He scooped up the empty bottle and stood up in a smooth, athletic movement that was a complete contrast to her own tumbled exit from the hammock. ‘I should be getting back to the woman in my life. My daughter.’
There was an awkward silence and Evanna chewed her lip, wishing that she was better at talking about sex. Kyla would have lain there and chatted quite comfortably about any topic of his choice, but she’d been gauche and stiff.
‘I haven’t helped much, have I?’ she mumbled, and for a long moment Logan didn’t answer.
Then he gave a sigh. ‘You always help. Thanks for coming round, Evanna,’ he said gruffly, and she gave a helpless nod as she backed towards the garden gate.
‘You’re welcome. I’m sorry I didn’t—I mean, I hope it works out the way you want,’ she muttered, and then gave up trying to say the right thing and just made for her car.
Find the right moment.
Find the right moment.
Logan paced the floor of his bedroom, battling with a growing frustration. Hadn’t that been Evanna’s advice to him? But when exactly was the right moment to tell a woman that you wanted to strip her naked and have wild, abandoned sex with her?
Evanna’s life was so tidy and neat. Everything planned. He’d seen the way that she’d blushed when he’d mentioned sex. How much deeper would that blush have been had she known that the woman he was interested in was her?
Any other woman would have picked up his signals, but not Evanna.
Evanna didn’t do wild love affairs and she never had.
She was sweet and conservative and a bit shy. The sort of woman who blushed when she was caught coming out of the shower.
And, as far as he was concerned,