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Healed with a Kiss
GINA WILKINS
One night is never enough!There are many words people use to describe Logan Carmichael, but romantic is not one of them. Even he can see the irony that he has become co-owner of the Bride Mountain Inn! Until he falls – hard – for the one woman who is determined to stay just out of his reach…Alexis Mosley might be the only wedding planner in the world who doesn’t believe in happily-ever-after. She believes she and Logan can just ‘keep things casual’ – nothing more. But as she surrenders herself to him each night, Alexis begins to wonder if they might have a fairytale ending after all…
From the Desk of Alexis Mosley,
Wedding Planner
Today’s To-Do List
1. Feed the cat.
2. Confirm floral delivery for tomorrow’s wedding.
3. Check with Kinley Carmichael re: seating arrangements for reception. Look surprised when her brother Logan appears.
4. Check with Logan re: lighting for garden ceremony. Act as if we barely know each other.
5. Make sure house is clean before Logan comes over tonight.
6. Have an evening of amour with Logan. Pretend it doesn’t mean anything.
7. Do not, under any circumstances, fall in love!
BRIDE MOUNTAIN:
Where a walk down the aisle is never far away…
Healed With a Kiss
Gina Wilkins
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
GINA WILKINS is a bestselling and award-winning author who has written more than seventy novels. She credits her successful career in romance to her long, happy marriage and her three “extraordinary” children.
A lifelong resident of central Arkansas, Ms Wilkins sold her first book to Mills & Boon in 1987 and has been writing full-time since. She has appeared on the Waldenbooks, B. Dalton and USA TODAY bestseller lists. She is a three-time recipient of a Maggie Award for Excellence, sponsored by Georgia Romance Writers, and has won several awards from the reviewers of RT Book Reviews.
For my Izzie, who is always curled beside me
to keep me company while I write.
Contents
Chapter One (#u55a50db6-dc2d-549f-af01-d60e8e657628)
Chapter Two (#u45fc79ad-0322-54ed-b5d8-54e205adab4c)
Chapter Three (#u1f72ce32-8a7b-51a9-934c-42f3965406b1)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
Alexis Mosley stood toe to toe with innkeeper Logan Carmichael, not at all intimidated by his dark scowl. “I don’t think my client is asking that much of you, really,” she said coolly. “Can you provide the services she wants or not?”
“Your client,” he retorted with a deep line carved between his straight, dark eyebrows, “needs to get a grip on reality. This is Southwest Virginia, not Montego Bay. If she wants a Jamaican beach wedding, she should hold it there. Or at the least make the five-hour drive to Virginia Beach and get married where there’s an actual ocean.”
Alexis sighed gustily. “As I’ve already explained to you, she needs to have the wedding here because she has elderly family members in very poor health who can’t travel easily but want to see her married. She’s dreamed of a Montego Bay wedding because that’s where her fiancé proposed two years ago. That isn’t possible for them this year, so she wants to move up her wedding date to July and re-create the feel here.”
On this Monday morning in early March, Alexis was consulting with Logan and his two sisters, Kinley and Bonnie, co-owners of Bride Mountain Inn, to determine whether her client’s very specific and somewhat unconventional requests were within reason. According to Logan, they were not.
With a sardonic expression on his sternly attractive face, he made a slow turn, motioning with one hand to draw her attention to the tidy garden in which they stood, the Queen Anne–style bed-and-breakfast behind them, the white gazebo at the end of a pebbled path. A tall, three-tiered fountain reigned in the center of the still-winter-dormant garden, providing the rhythmic splash of falling water for a soothing sound track. Against the horizon, the majestic Blue Ridge Mountains rose proudly against the pale blue sky. He had a point about the setting looking very little like a Jamaican beach.
Kinley, predictably enough, jumped into the discussion to state differently. “Of course we can make your client happy! It won’t be the first tropical-themed wedding we’ve held here. We’ll just have to figure out a way to set up to her personal specifications. I’m sure among all of us, we can come up with something.”
While Logan’s reaction to over-the-top bridal desires was often negative, inveterate saleswoman Kinley’s was just the opposite. To book an event at the inn, she seemed willing to promise just about anything—and yet, surprisingly, she always came through, proving she agreed only to what she knew they could accomplish.
In almost a year of working with the Carmichael siblings through her event-planning business, Alexis had never registered a complaint after an event at Bride Mountain Inn. She recommended the inn frequently as a venue for the weddings and other special occasions she coordinated. And nearly every time, she ended up wrangling with Logan at some point over the outdoor setups, more than once being told her requests were impossible even though they both knew that somehow he would make it work.
“Have your client consult with you on a very detailed list of her ideas, then we’ll all get together and discuss them,” Kinley instructed. “Make sure she knows all her decisions have to be made in time for us to make arrangements, and she can’t have last-minute changes with a theme this specific. We’ll do our best to make her happy.”
Alexis understood Kinley’s need to have everything spelled out in advance to avoid complications later. She operated her own business on exactly the same philosophy. “I’ll explain it to her, of course.”
“I’ll research some Jamaican recipes in case she wants us to provide special breakfasts or snacks for her guests,” Bonnie contributed, looking intrigued by the challenge. “I’m sure there are many more original ideas than jerk chicken.”
The siblings didn’t look particularly alike. Kinley had a slender, fit body, brown hair streaked with honey highlights and grayish-blue eyes. Bonnie was petite, with golden-blond curls and big blue eyes. Older brother Logan was hard-carved, medium tall and muscular, with dark hair and hazel eyes. Alexis wouldn’t call him handsome, exactly, but definitely the type of man any red-blooded woman would notice. She’d definitely noticed the first time she’d met him.
Logan blew out a resigned breath that hung just visible in the crisp morning air. The fleece-lined gray jacket he wore with a T-shirt, jeans and boots was his only concession to the chilly temperature. He would ditch the jacket when the days warmed, but the rest of his outfit remained the same year-round, at least from Alexis’s observation.
“Just give me and the crew time to work whatever miracle you think I can pull off. You find the stuff she wants, I’ll set it up. But you’re not hauling in sand,” he added with a warning scowl. He shot a dark look at Kinley before continuing, “Last time someone had the clever idea of setting up sandboxes for the kids at a tropical theme party, I had a hell of a time cleaning up afterward.”
“No sand,” Alexis promised.
He held her gaze for a moment, then nodded, turned and walked away with a mumble about needing to get back to work. His gait was marked by a very slight limp on the left side, which was more intriguing than detracting. As he disappeared around the side of the inn, Alexis made herself stop looking after him and spoke to his sisters. “I’ll try to keep the bride realistic with her expectations.”
“I know you will,” Kinley said with a smile. “Don’t mind Logan, he’s just grouchy today. He and his crew are working long hours to get the grounds ready for spring plantings.”
Alexis couldn’t help laughing. “He’s grouchy today?”
Kinley smiled a bit sheepishly, while Bonnie grinned in acknowledgment that their brother wasn’t the jolliest soul even on the best of days. Logan wasn’t a jerk, Alexis mused. He was just bluntly candid and impatient with most social niceties. And yet during the past year she had seen him interacting kindly with children and senior citizens, politely if somewhat distantly with stressed-out brides and nervous grooms, and relaxed and easy with his small, hardworking, fiercely loyal grounds crew. She wouldn’t say he was all bark and no bite, exactly—he wasn’t quite that innocuous—but she’d worked with worse.
As different as the Carmichael siblings were, they meshed amazingly well. They worked together every day at the inn they’d inherited from a great-uncle and had restored and reopened for business. Bonnie and Logan even lived full-time on the grounds; Bonnie in a two-bedroom, half-basement apartment; Logan in a cozy caretaker’s cottage downhill from the wedding gazebo. Alexis figured she would have long since strangled her younger brother, Sean, if they tried to go into business together.
Kinley and Bonnie had both married during the past winter, since Alexis had first started working with them. Yet bringing new members into the fold had not seemed to affect the family dynamics, at least when it came to the interactions she had witnessed. She enjoyed watching the sisters and brother work together, putting their individual strengths into results that were always impressive.
She was quite sure it would be interesting, as usual, to work with them on this newest project. She even looked forward to more spirited skirmishes with Logan, which always added a nice bit of spice to her workdays.
* * *
Darkness had fallen that evening when Alexis brewed a cup of hot tea in her cozy kitchen, only a few miles from Bride Mountain Inn. The days were getting a little longer as spring drew nearer. Already her work hours were increasingly busy with preparations for May and June, the craziest time of year in the wedding business. She wasn’t complaining about the workload. Having acquired Blue Ridge Celebrations just over a year ago, she was pleased to have seen a marked increase in bookings during the past months. She’d invested wisely in advertising, and had worked hard to make sure word-of-mouth endorsements from her clients were nothing but positive.
For some reason, she found herself thinking back over the past as she carried her tea into the living room with her affectionate gray cat, Fiona, padding along beside her. Though she’d trained for a career in music and theater, she had worked in her mom’s Roanoke, Virginia, florist shop during her school years and later in shops in Maryland and New York, so she’d been quite familiar with weddings and other fancy events. She had always displayed a talent for event planning, enjoying that part of her jobs with florists. She’d spent quite a bit of time developing that skill during what had been supposed to be only supplemental work.
A few months after her twenty-seventh birthday she’d acknowledged that she lacked the all-consuming passion required to become a major star on stage. She’d loved performing, and she’d worked very hard at perfecting her skills, but the lack of control over her own future had become more and more difficult to accept. After being passed over for an important role she’d come so close to obtaining—and coming to the abrupt realization that she wasn’t devastated by the rejection—she had found the courage to change her life course and go into business for herself.
It hadn’t been easy to turn her back on the goal she’d had for so long. She’d walked away from her friends, her tiny but adorable city apartment and a tumultuous relationship that had left her ego bruised and her heart barricaded. It had been a terrifying, but ultimately liberating, move.
Drawn back to her home state, she had purchased this established enterprise almost an hour’s drive from her mother’s still-thriving florist shop. Her natural talent for organization and creative thinking had come in handy in her new career, and she’d had considerable help from the previous owner and from a couple of employees who’d stayed with the company after the transfer.
There had been a few glitches initially, a few minor missteps, but all in all Alexis was satisfied she’d made the right decision, despite her enthusiastic stage mother’s disappointment and concern. Now twenty-nine, she was independent and self-sufficient; she had established functional and strictly enforced boundaries with her family; she had a nice rented house she was considering buying, and several good friends. She even enjoyed a nondemanding, drama-free but physically exciting connection with a fascinating man who was no more interested than she was in the challenges of long-term romantic commitments. What more could a modern-day woman want?
As if to accompany that thought, a brisk tap on the front door got her attention just as she set her steaming cup of tea on the low table in front of the couch. Along with the knock came a scrabbling sound on the front porch that she recognized easily enough.
“Sounds as though we both have company,” she said to her cat, who stared at the door with eagerly perked ears. “They’re a little early. Think they were impatient to see us?”
She smoothed her hands over the pink knit top and faded jeans she’d changed into after arriving home from work only an hour earlier. Her dark hair hung loose around her shoulders, but she merely shook it back rather than fussing with it. She was barefoot, but didn’t bother donning shoes as she moved across the room. It was nice to know she could be entirely herself with this particular visitor, whom she had been expecting tonight. Already her pulse had increased in pleasurable anticipation as she reached to open the door.
Logan Carmichael stood on her doorstep, his characteristically stern face illuminated by the yellow bulb in her porch light fixture. Beside him, a massive black-and-brown dog made a husky, deep-chested sound that some might have interpreted as a growl.
Logan jerked his chin toward the rottweiler-mix dog. “He begged to come with me tonight. He sulked that I left him home the last couple of times. Hope it’s okay.”
Smiling, Alexis moved back out of the doorway. She knew quite well the dog’s grumbly rumble was merely his unique way of greeting people he liked, his own version of a cat’s purr. “Ninja is always welcome here,” she said, motioning for them to come inside. “Fiona, you have a visitor.”
Ninja headed straight for the gray cat, who leaped onto the couch to better greet the big dog. Alexis was no longer even bemused when her pet rubbed affectionately against Ninja’s head, triggering a new spate of rumbling from the dog’s broad chest and a frantic wagging of his tail. Someone had forgotten to tell the silly creatures that they were supposed to be sworn enemies. They had become great pals instead over the past five months. Odd, yes, but Alexis figured it was no more surprising than her own very private friendship with Logan.
Logan closed the door, shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it over a chair. He reached out then to wrap his hand around the back of her head and tug her closer, his hazel eyes glinting with a rare, slow smile. “Is Ninja the only one welcome here?”
She rested her right hand on his solid chest, feeling his heart beating a bit rapidly beneath her palm and relishing the knowledge that she elicited that response from him. Slipping off her glasses with her left hand, she smiled up at him through her lashes, openly flirting, comfortable with touching him and yet highly stimulated by the contact. “I suppose it’s okay if you accompany him occasionally.”
He chuckled, his warm breath brushing her lips as he lowered his head. “I appreciate that gracious invitation,” he said, just before taking her mouth in a hungry kiss that effectively changed their banter into passion.
She didn’t bother to ask him to take a seat, or to politely offer refreshments. Instead, when the long, thorough kiss finally broke off, she moved a step back and took his hand. Turning, she led him to her bedroom, a path he knew well already, having visited there an average of three times a month since late October.
She didn’t turn on the overhead light. The stained-glass lamp beside her antique four-poster bed was on, the dimmed light filtered through red, purple and gold tinted glass. The white duvet was already turned back to reveal white sheets and soft, fluffy pillows. She had considered lighting one or more of the thick white candles scattered around the room, but she’d decided not to. She and Logan had a mutually satisfying relationship uncluttered by the traditional and potentially painful trappings of “romance.” They were friends. Good friends. Friends with benefits, in somewhat dated slang. But neither had expectations for a permanent commitment.
Which didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy every minute with him while it lasted, she thought, melting into his work-toned arms.
Their lovemaking began slowly, both taking their time as they shed clothing and caressed the skin revealed. Alexis never tired of tracing his impressive abs and biceps with her fingertips and lips. Despite the old scars on his left leg that he had attributed without elaboration to an old college injury, Logan was in the best physical condition of anyone she knew. Solid, strong, tanned and fit, a combination of hard work and healthy living. And, oh, did he know how to put that amazing body to good use.
They communicated with appreciative murmurs and throaty sighs, with soft laughter and quiet moans. As had happened each time before, the kisses and embraces rapidly escalated into a desperate need that made it impossible for them to take their time and savor. The tidy bedclothes were tangled, shoved aside, pillows tossed to the floor.
Logan donned protection swiftly, then returned to her. Clearing her mind of any thoughts but that moment, she welcomed him eagerly.
* * *
It took quite a while for Logan to decide that his limbs would support him if he tried to rise. Some ten minutes after he and Alexis had reached explosive orgasms, he lay on his back in her tumbled bed, his breathing still a little ragged, his heart rate just returning to a somewhat steady rhythm. How could it keep getting better with her, when each time he was convinced he’d never felt that good before?
Alexis lay against his side, so still and quiet he wasn’t even certain she was awake. He slanted a glance down at her, but her hair fell over her face, hiding her eyes. He would tuck it back for her, but he wasn’t sure he could move his arm yet.
She sighed then and raised her head. The diffused glow from the stained-glass lamp glinted in her dark brown hair when she shoved it back with a slightly unsteady hand. Her smoke-gray eyes reflected the multicolored light. Her cheeks were a little flushed, and her full lips were still darkened from his kisses. She looked as though she had just had a round of hot, energetic, very satisfying lovemaking. Sex, he corrected himself quickly. Great sex.
He liked seeing her like this, all tousled and sleepy-eyed, so different from the tidy, tailored appearance she presented when on the job. Of course, he liked looking at her then, too, knowing what lay beneath her tastefully modest professional wardrobe, picturing her with her usually pinned-up dark hair tangled around her bare shoulders and remembering the taste of her soft mouth beneath his.
“Wow,” she said.
He chuckled. “Seconded.”
That was something else he liked about her. She wasn’t shy or coy about her enjoyment of sex, though he was aware that she was very selective about satisfying her needs. The first night they were together, she’d admitted that she hadn’t been with anyone else recently. He’d replied just as candidly that he’d been in the midst of a dry spell himself, though he hadn’t elaborated. It wasn’t lack of opportunity that had made him live a rather monklike existence for the past couple of years. He’d simply been very careful not to get involved in any potentially messy entanglements, and he wasn’t the type to particularly enjoy a series of one-night stands with strangers.
Alexis had been the first woman in quite a while who’d drawn him out of his self-imposed solitude. In addition to being strongly attracted to her physically, he genuinely liked her. He admired her intelligence, her competence, her quick wit, her directness. She’d told him flat-out that weddings were her business, not her aspiration, and on that they could fervently agree. He had his reasons for being commitment-shy—good reasons, in his opinion. Obviously, Alexis had her own. They didn’t discuss their past relationships, but they had a lot in common when it came to what they wanted for now.
No one else knew they were seeing each other. They had agreed there was no need to complicate their easy friendship with outside expectations from friends and family. It was no one else’s business, in Logan’s opinion. He wasn’t seeing anyone else, and neither was Alexis, but they were both free to do so. He simply wasn’t interested in dating others at the moment. And he rather hoped she felt the same way. At least for now.
Rising to her elbow, she propped her head on her hand and gazed down at him. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way—”
He laughed softly, amused by her wording.
“—can I get you anything? I made tea for myself, but I suspect it’s cold now. I could brew fresh for both of us.”
“Sounds good, but I can’t stay much longer. Have to get an early start tomorrow working on a raised herb bed Bonnie wants me to put in this year. She had a little garden last year, but she’s decided it’s too small. Curtis and I are going to start on the bigger one in the morning.”
Though he and Alexis didn’t talk much about their pasts, they chatted quite a bit about work. She shared funny, just-between-them anecdotes about some of her events, probably because she knew he’d keep her confidences. He told her about the plans his sisters concocted for the inn and its grounds, most of which they expected him to handle, of course. During the past winter, he’d overseen construction of two easily accessible restroom/dressing room facilities beneath the inn’s back deck for use by wedding parties and their guests. Kinley and Bonnie had a sizable list of other improvements they wanted to make as time and finances allowed.
It would take several years to complete everything on their list—assuming, of course, they didn’t add to it, which they surely would—but he wasn’t complaining. All part of the job he’d taken on when he’d agreed to go into business with them. And that didn’t even include the part-time software consultation he performed on the side. Kinley maintained her real estate sales license and showed homes to prospective buyers during quite a few of her evenings away from the inn. Neither of them would completely give up their side jobs until they were certain the inn was entirely solvent.
Alexis didn’t bother dressing after climbing out of the bed, but wrapped herself in a soft red robe that set off her dark hair and gray eyes quite nicely. While she went to the kitchen to put on the kettle for tea, he washed and dressed again in the jeans and T-shirt he’d worn for this casual visit. He took a moment to straighten the bed before joining her. Even so soon after being thoroughly sated, he felt his blood heat in response to the images that flooded his mind when he smoothed the sheets.
She had the tea ready when he joined her. The earthy scent of chamomile wafted through her kitchen, all stainless steel and white with a few splashes of red as accents. Alexis had decorated primarily with white fabrics, light woods and clear glass, very clean, streamlined and non-fussy. Typical of her, he mused, taking a white-cushioned seat at the glass-topped table.
Ninja wandered into the room and sat at Logan’s feet, looking at Alexis expectantly. With a laugh, she pulled out a doggy treat from her pantry and tossed it to him. Not to be ignored, Fiona wound around Alexis’s ankles, meowing until Alexis gave in and slipped her a tuna-flavored kitty snack. It made Logan frown to realize that she had gotten into the habit of having both cat and dog treats on hand, but he brushed off that thought, telling himself it didn’t mean anything. He didn’t want to ruin the evening by overthinking things.
Setting the tea in front of him, she smiled. “What about you, Logan? Should I toss you a treat? I think I have some cookies.”
