Page 49 of More Than Meets the Eye

“I tried to climb the rope, but my hands were too sore, and then it was just so dark and . . . and lonely.” She glanced up at him, moisture glistening in her eyes. “Even Hezzy left me.” Her lower lip trembled, but she bit it and hid her face from him again. “I’m not usually such a weakling. Afraid of the dark.” She made a scoffing sound. “But I was down here so long, and I started worrying that something awful had happened to you, that you weren’t coming back.” Her already tight grip contracted even further. “I’m just so glad you’re here.”

Suddenly that was all that mattered. That he was there with her. His heart chugged like a speeding locomotive, not yet recovered from the scare of losing her. Her body trembled with residual fear from being trapped in a dark, unfinished cellar. Thoughts of bootleggers and Hamiltons and family responsibilities fell away, allowing feelings to take over.

Feelings of belonging. Desire. Rightness.

Logan ceased thinking altogether. His palms pressed into Eva’s back and slowly moved upward to the space between her shoulder blades, then higher to the delicate line of her neck. She felt so good in his arms. His jaw rubbed against the side of her head. She lifted her face, the filtered light lending a sparkle to her eyes. His hands automatically came forward to cup her cheeks.

She inhaled, and his breath faltered. Her lips parted. Logan’s thumbs caressed her face, his eyes locked on her mouth. Nothing else existed. Only Eva. Only the two of them together.

Her lashes lowered, severing his control like the plunge of a guillotine. He crushed his lips to hers. So sweet. So perfect. So . . . Eva. She lifted up on tiptoes to return his kiss with abandon, infusing him with her essence. Joy. Light. Effervescence. He wanted it all. Wanted her. Triumph surged through him when she gripped the back of his coat and tugged him closer, as if she feared he’d try to escape.

Never. She belonged with him.

Logan’s fingers tunneled into the hair at Eva’s nape as he deepened their kiss, her soft, moaning hums heating his blood.

A dull thudding echoed around them, and it took a long, disoriented moment for Logan to realize that it wasn’t stemming from the blood pounding through his veins. It came from hoofbeats. Outside.

“Logan!” Zacharias Hamilton’s booming voice cracked through the air.

Eva jumped and wrenched herself from Logan’s arms. Her wide, innocent eyes blinked, as if she couldn’t quite absorb what had just happened between them. Not that he could blame her. He might not be as innocent as she was, but he was just as stunned by the effect of that kiss. He balled his hands into fists, both to keep from reaching for her again and to still their shaking.

“Evie! Where are you?” Seth’s voice carried the same panic that had coursed through Logan not ten minutes earlier.

“In the cellar,” Logan called. “She’s all right.” He cleared his throat and forced his mind to more practical matters. He turned to Eva. “Let me see your hands.”

She held them out, and he cupped them gently with his own. He frowned at the angry red abrasions. The skin had even torn in a few places on her right hand. He clenched his jaw. He was building a ladder. Tomorrow.

He reached for his handkerchief, intending to bandage her hand and protect it from the roughness of the rope, but his empty trouser pocket had nothing to offer. The white cotton square he usually carried was flapping in the breeze, tied to the tree branch by the road.

Plan B. The cellar ceiling was only about eight feet high. He could lift her out. She wouldn’t have to touch the rope at all.

He put a hand on Eva’s waist and drew her close.

“Logan.” She arched away from him. “My brothers are coming.”

He grinned. “Where is your mind, Miss Hamilton?” he teased. “I’m only trying to get you out of here without further injuring your hands.”

“Oh.”

Was that disappointment in her voice? He sure hoped so. Heaven knew he’d much rather be pulling her into his arms for another private embrace than handing her into her brothers’ keeping. Had he known he would find her unhurt in the privacy of his cellar, he never would have given the Hamiltons directions to his cabin.

Hurried footsteps on the floor above told him he was out of time.

He moved behind Eva and placed both hands on her waist. “When I count to three, jump.” He bounced a bit with her, giving her the rhythm as they bent their knees in time. “One.” He widened his stance. “Two.” He tightened his grip on her waist. “Three!”

She leapt. He lifted. Bending deep at the knees, he hoisted her onto his right shoulder, then pushed up with his legs until he had straightened to his full height.

He blew out a breath as he stepped closer to the edge of the opening, making sure her position was steady when she reached up to the men crouching at the cellar entrance.

“Careful with her hands,” Logan ordered. “They’re torn up from the rope.”

Zacharias and Seth immediately adjusted, clasping her forearms, one brother on each arm. In an instant, her weight lifted from Logan’s shoulder, and she disappeared from view.

Not liking the feeling of having her stripped away from him, even if it was for her own good, he immediately grabbed hold of the rope and climbed out. Yet being on equal footing didn’t bring him into their circle. The brothers peppered her with questions and wrapped her hands with their handkerchiefs while she assured them she was fine and asked about Hezekiah.

She didn’t look at Logan. Not once. Filling him with questions of his own.

Did she regret their kiss, or was she just trying to keep her brothers from guessing what had transpired before their arrival?