It took Pepper a moment to realize he'd slipped a question in there. She swallowed down her bite and nodded.

"Yes, but for the same reasons you just gave-" and many more "-I don't have any pets, either." Someday, in her fantasy future, she'd love to have pets, lots of them. Kids, too...no, she wouldn't, couldn't think that way.

It'd only depress her.

"So we have that in common," Logan said. "My folks have an ancient German shepherd that loves to swim. I think it's easier for him than running, less stress on his hips."

Slipping in her own question, she asked, "Why didn't you marry?"

"Haven't met the right woman, I guess. I want to someday." He gestured.

"You know, home, hearth, holidays with two kids, a cat and a dog. All that."

"You were engaged?" she prompted.

"Yeah, for over a year." He ran a hand through his hair. "It was all good until she decided I had to take a job with her daddy, and her daddy was a grade-A prick, so..." He shrugged. "Couldn't work it out."

That sounded like the absolute truth, but could that really be the whole story?

"You don't sound particularly heartbroken over it."

His expression warmed. Belatedly, she decided that prim and proper Sue Meeks should have reacted some to his language. But, oh, well. Too late now.

"Funny thing, that. I never was." Done eating, he slouched back in his chair and cradled his beer on his midsection. "I mean, I was pissed. Maybe even a little..." He searched for a word and settled on, "Disappointed. But I guess I never really loved her, not the way you should love someone if you're going to spend a lifetime together."

"How long ago was that?"

"Few years." He gave her a searching look. "What about you? Ever been serious about anyone?"

"No."

Because she'd answered so quickly, he laughed. "Okay." He nodded at her empty plate. "All done?"

Thrown by the change in topic, she looked at her plate and was surprised that she'd eaten so much. "Yes, thank you."

"So." He stood and carried the dishes to the sink. "What now?"

Bemused, she watched as he rinsed each plate, loaded them in the dishwasher and did a general cleaning of their dinner mess.

By the time he finished, no sign of dinner remained. "You're a lot tidier than I am."

"No offense, but I'm thinking a lot of people are probably tidier than you."

"It's true." She didn't really get into the whole domestic routine. She let out a sigh. "My place isn't really dirty or anything, but it is cluttered." She wrinkled her nose. "I don't like to fuss."

"Good. Fussy women are annoying."

Distant thunder rumbled, and they both looked toward the balcony. The bright evening sunshine had faded beneath thick gray clouds that darkened the sky. A troubled breeze carried in cooler air.

"Don't get me wrong," Logan said, "but this is the weirdest date I've ever had."

That brought her back around to face him. "It wasn't a date!"

"Sure it was." Mood teasing, he came closer. "A little necking, dinner and conversation, getting to know each other."

Oh, God. Maybe it was a date.

"Usually doesn't happen in that order, and I can't recall ever talking marriage on a first date."

"You brought it up!"

"To appease your curiosity." A light patter of rain danced over the patio doors. "But it wasn't bad for our first.

Was it?"

Not bad at all. In fact, it was the first time in ages that she'd forgotten, for just a little while, how much her life had changed. "No, I suppose it-"

Bright lightning splintered the sky, chased by a deafening crack of thunder that reverberated in the floor beneath their feet.

She said, "Wow." And the electricity died.

It needed only this.

The combination of no lights and black sky left the apartment cast in deep mysterious shadows.

Logan walked to the patio doors just as the storm hit in earnest, pounding the earth with a deluge of rain. It blew in against his bare chest, dampening his skin, his hair and the front of those well- worn jeans.

He shut his doors and, after swiping off his face, crossed the floor to get the kitchen window, too.

Because she stood there in a lustful daze, he prompted her. "What about your windows? They open?"

How had she forgotten that? "Damn it," she said, and bolted back to her own apartment. She didn't want Logan to follow her, but she didn't take the time to tell him not to. The way the rain blew in, everything she owned would be soaked in under a minute.

She got the balcony doors closed while he shut the kitchen window for her. She darted into the bathroom to get that small window, and Logan...went into her bedroom.

No, no, no.

Face soaked, shirt and shoes wet, she waited, but he didn't come back out.

Knowing proximity could get the best of her, she nonetheless stepped into the bedroom behind him. He had his back to her, eyeing her treadmill.

"Logan?"

When he turned, she saw his jeans clinging to his body, his chest hair darker with the rain, his nipples tight from the chill.

Her mouth went dry.

"Sorry." He ran a hand over his face and pushed back his hair. "It was coming in pretty good. Your floor's wet, and so is the bottom of your bed."

She stayed by the door, her thoughts rioting with explicit images of him naked, the things he'd do, the things she wanted to do to him.

A sudden shift in the air, in his mood, sent a thread of excited alarm up her spine.

He took a step toward her. "What about you, Sue?"

Not knowing what he asked, she shook her head in confusion.

"It's too damn dark for me to tell," he whispered, coming closer. In a husky, suggestive tone, he said, "I'm betting you're wet, too."

So many ways she wanted to reply- all of them dangerous.

She couldn't think when she looked at him, so she turned her back and tried to order herself to caution.

"Thank you for the help." It was an obvious hint for him to go, but at the same time, she had that image of him standing there, at the foot of her unmade bed. Tall, bare-chested, sexy as sin...

His hands settled on her shoulders; his scent settled around her.

And before he said a single word, she knew she was a goner.

LOGAN IGNORED the not-so-subtle

suggestion for him to hit the road, especially since her voice had gone all thin and high. She was nervous, he got that.

Why, he didn't yet know.

But he had her in a bedroom, in the near-dark, and with every fiber of his being, he was aware of her as a woman.

Not of his plan to get hold of her brother. Not of how she could assist him in his goal to obtain justice.

Just... her.

The way she trembled, the scent of her damp skin, her arousal.

They stood in the shadows while lightning flashed outside and occasional thunder rattled the windows.

Holding her shoulders, he drew her back into his chest and bent to inhale the heady fragrance of her damp skin. "I don't want to leave you alone in this storm."

The silence grew taut, and he knew she warred with herself, with what she wanted-and probably her damned brother's rules.

Finally she whispered, "I'll be fine."

"You want me to stay." And knowing that, he went about convincing her, putting soft love bites on her throat, teasing her ear with his breath and his tongue, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close enough that she felt his erection against her soft ass.

"Logan..."

"Your shirt is wet," he told her and boldly smoothed a hand up and over her breast. The restrictive bra confounded him. It couldn't be comfortable.

"Don't." She caught his wrist and drew his hand down to her waist, but she didn't step away from him.

"Okay." He pressed his hand lower, to her belly, and asked, "Is this better?"

She shocked him by nodding.

Need held him in a powerful grip; he pressed his hand lower, between her thighs, cupping her through the long skirt and insubstantial underwear.

They both breathed harder.

She parted her thighs.

Amazing. So this was okay, but her breasts were off-limits? Prodded by concern, by the idea that she could be scarred, or worse, he asked, "Why, honey?"

Pressing back against him, she put her hand over his, encouraging him to continue while muttering low, "No questions."

Not being a fool, Logan agreed. When he got her in bed, he'd get her naked, and then he'd figure it out on his own. He'd reassure her and let her know whatever it was, it didn't matter, not between them.

She flattened her hands on his thighs, and her nails dug into him. He heard the catch in her breathing, savored the heat of her, how she moved against his exploring fingers.

For the longest time they stood there like that, in the dark with the storm all around them, damp, hot, necking and petting. He grinned against her shoulder.

"I haven't done this since high school."

It took a little while before she asked, "This?"

"Making out. Fooling around with my clothes on." He pressed his hard-on against her. "Getting so frustrated, I almost can't take it."

She groaned-and started to step away.

Logan turned them both instead and brought her down to the bed. He sprawled out over her, kissing her hard, deep, hoping to obliterate any objections.

She had none.

Of her own accord she parted her legs so that he fit between them. Her hands tangled in his hair, and she held him close while he kissed her.

When he again reached for her breast -dying to see her, to touch her-she stalled. "Wait."

Of course he did. Balanced over her, edgy with need, their breaths mingling, he...waited.

Her body beneath his was an indistinct form, but he felt her urgency, the way she stared at him, and her indecision.