Ms. Starr’s Most Inconvenient Change of Heart (A Raven's Run Romantic Mystery Book 1)

by Dorothy St. James

  “Don’t make me kill you,” Thacker rasped. “Give me the girl. She’s the one I need. Not you.”

  Logan’s grip on me tightened. Together we rose our feet. He led the way as we followed around the edge of the roofline as he moved closer to the access door.

  “Can’t do that,” Logan said. “I love her.”

  “You do?” I chirped.

  He nodded. “Always have.”

  Despite looking down a barrel of a gun and at what appeared to be our certain death, I couldn’t stop the smile from creasing my lips.

  “You’re a fool, then,” Thacker growled. “You’re a damned fool.”

  Logan stopped. He peered over his shoulder at the long drop behind us and then looked back at Thacker. “Perhaps,” he said.

  His hold around my middle tightened. His gaze traveled back to the empty air behind us.

  “Do you trust me?” he asked.

  Logan wasn’t wearing a backpack, so there was no parachute. There was nothing but certain death if we jumped.

  Did I trust him? Would I leap off into the empty abyss with Logan just because he asked me to?

  The answer to that question came quickly.

  “Yes. Yes, I trust you,” I breathed. “I trust you with my life...and my heart.”

  Unlike any other man I knew, I trusted—truly trusted—Logan to stick with me through the good times and the bad times. I trusted he wouldn’t run out on me.

  And if this was the end of our adventure...

  I touched the side of his face. “I love you, Logan.”

  And we jumped.

  Chapter 39

  I didn’t scream as we plunged off the side of the very tall cathedral, with no parachute.

  “I trust him,” a voice in my head calmly whispered. I trusted Logan. With my eyes closed, I clung to the one and only love in my life. I clung to the one and only man I’d ever trusted.

  We landed—not with a bone crushing crash—but with a thump. I turned both my ankles with that not-so-hard landing. The heels on my beautiful and obscenely expensive white pumps snapped like twigs.

  Surprisingly, it hadn’t been a long fall.

  I drew a slow, cautious breath.

  I was still alive.

  I opened one eye—and then the other—to find Logan gazing warily at the airspace above us.

  We’d landed on a narrow ledge less than ten feet below the roofline.

  “You always have an escape route planned,” I said with a shaky voice a moment before my lips landed on his.

  He loved me.

  He loved me.

  He loved me.

  And we were alive.

  I’d never felt happier.

  IN THE CONFUSION THAT had followed, Thacker had escaped. But Logan didn’t care. Sam was safe in his arms. Safe, and exactly where she belonged.

  She hugged him tightly as they climbed through a window and made their way down the bell tower. She squeezed him even more tightly when they emerged from the stairwell. Her arm hit where he’d been shot. He winced.

  “Oh!” she cried and jumped away from him. “You’re hurt.”

  He tried to pull her back into his embrace. Didn’t she know that holding her close felt like Heaven to him? But she wouldn’t let him.

  “You need a doctor.”

  “It’s just a graze.” Sure, it burned. But he’d suffered worse, far worse, and he could tell by the way this one felt he wouldn’t need more than a few stitches, if that.

  “You need a doctor,” she repeated, her hands planting themselves on her lovely slender hips. “You need a doctor right now.”

  Her wedding dress was a ruined mess, smeared with blood and dirt, and ripped in all the wrong places. Her hair had fallen out of the cascading curls that had once resembled a golden waterfall on top of her head. And she limped as she walked.

  Still, he couldn’t remember when he’d seen a more beautiful sight. He grabbed her shoulders so he could kiss her as if the world was coming to an end and this was going to be his last moment on earth.

  She fell against him. Her responsive lips gave him hope. But when they parted, he remembered, and it nearly crushed his soaring spirits. She wasn’t his. She’d been standing beside her fiancé George when Logan had literally crashed the wedding.

  “You should go to him,” he said, even though it nearly killed him to do the honorable thing. He glanced over to where Sam’s mother and George were arguing with a cop. “You can still get married today.”

  “Are you serious?” she said and tugged at a ripped hem, but she didn’t pry her eyes from his face, not even for a second. “You think I could—?”

  “Sam!” her mother screeched.

  His entire body tightened in response. Reality was about to come crashing down around him. Sam would be dragged back into her safe, normal life.

  And he’d be alone.

  Again.

  But he liked being alone. Right?

  No. He didn’t like it.

  Although he’d built a life where he was safe from emotional harm, he wasn’t happy. Not really. Having Sam back in his life had shown him how different his life could be. And for the first time in a long time he liked how the future might look.

  He craved that future like a drowning man craved air.

  “Sam!” her mother grabbed Sam’s slender shoulders and spun her out of Logan’s arms. “Look at you. Look at your dress. Are you hurt?”

  “No, mother, I’m—”

  “Look at your dress,” she repeated. “Your beautiful dress! It’s ruined.” She gave Sam a sharp shake. “What are we going to do? You can’t marry George looking like something that needs to be tossed into the trash. What will his family say? What will his colleagues say? This is a disaster. A dis-ass-ter.”

  “Mother, please, listen to me. I don’t mean to disappoint you, but—”

  “And you!” she rounded on Logan. Deep lines had been etched into her face over the years, but she was still the same scary powerful woman he remembered from his youth. Logan took a step back from her. And then another. “You! What in the world were you thinking blasting into Sam’s wedding like that? Was this what you wanted? This? You’ve ruined her life!”

  “Ma’am, I was saving your daughter’s life, not ruining it,” he said as he abruptly halted his retreat. He held the line as if facing down his enemy. “And other than the state of her dress, I’d say I did a damned good job keeping her safe.”

  “I-I-well-I—” she sputtered.

  “Mother.” Sam hugged Mrs. Starr’s arm. “I know you want the best for me. And I want the best for you too.” Tears filled her eyes. “I wanted to give you that beach house and the life you deserve. I truly did. But I can’t.” Her voice turned hoarse as she quickly wiped away a tear that had escaped. “I can’t marry him,” she whispered. “I can’t. I’m so sorry I can’t give you the life his money would give you.”

  The formidable Mrs. Starr folded her arms around her daughter. “Oh, darling. You don’t have to give me anything. You don’t owe me anything. All I want is what’s best for you.”

  Sam looked up at her mother as if she were looking at her for the first time. “I don’t want to marry George,” she whispered. “I don’t love him, and I want to love my husband.”

  “Then don’t marry him,” Logan grumbled, unable to keep silent a moment longer. He hadn’t saved Sam’s life to let her throw it away on a man she didn’t want. Sam loved him, and he planned to fight for her.

  He kept expecting George to rush over. He kept expecting to have to fend off angry punches from the man who less than an hour ago had been standing at the front of the cathedral with the most wonderful woman in the world. He expected, at the very least, for George to come over and inquire about his fiancée’s welfare. While George had glanced in their direction and had clearly seen Sam, he was now moving through the crowd, shaking hands with the enthusiasm of a politician.

  What a damned idiot. Did he not understand how utterly lucky he’d been to
win Sam’s affection?

  Logan had been prepared to confront that boob of a fiancé. He’d been prepared to punch George in the nose for not protecting her as he should. He wasn’t prepared to punch Sam’s mother. He would never even consider it. Besides which, Mrs. Starr scared him.

  She turned and glared at Logan.

  “Your daughter deserves to be happy,” he said quietly, not sure what else he could do or say to stop her from looking at him as if he was a mother’s worst nightmare.

  “I love Logan,” Sam said, much to his relief.

  “Who?” her mother hooted as she looked around. “You love who?”

  “Logan,” Sam repeated. The smile she sent in his direction relieved all the pressure and anxiety that had been building in his heart. “I have a little money set aside, Mother,” she hurried on before either Logan or her mother had a chance to comment on her revelation. “It’s not much, but it can help with your retirement.”

  “Honey, I don’t want your money. I simply want you to be happy and financially stable, so you don’t have to struggle like I have,” her mother said.

  “I might not be rich, but I am financially secure,” Sam said. “My job at the library is a good one.”

  “I know. I know. But I want you to have more.”

  “I have enough.” She looked at Logan and smiled again. “More than enough.”

  He returned her smile. “So, what do you want to do?”

  “I don’t know,” Sam said while her mother sputtered. “But I do know I’m not getting married today.”

  That was all the answer he needed.

  “Let’s go.” He took her hand and together they ran toward the back door.

  “CAN WE LEAVE LIKE THIS?” I asked once we were outside the church.

  “We just did,” Logan answered. Several FBI agents called after us. Logan ignored them.

  Was he going to get into trouble for ignoring them? “Shouldn’t someone at least look at your bullet wound?”

  “It’s fine. You can help me clean it.”

  “Won’t the police or FBI want to get our statements or something?”

  He kept walking. “Later. Right now, I want you all to myself. I need to have you all to myself.”

  Hearing that made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

  “Come on,” he said and gave my arm a gentle tug when my feet didn’t move fast enough. “This is more important than the computer virus.”

  “You're not going to get into trouble?”

  “This is more important.”

  “More—?”

  “Much more,” he insisted. “You're more important.”

  Chapter 40

  Logan’s apartment was a one-bedroom luxury space. The two stories of floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over Central Park in both the living room and the bedroom.

  “This-this is where you live?” I asked, even though I didn’t need to. This was definitely his home. Pictures of his family littered every shelf and wall. There were even a few pictures of me in the mix.

  I shook my head. He clearly loved his family. And yet, he’d worked so hard to keep them out of his life. Crazy. Just as crazy as my thinking marrying a man for money was a good idea.

  We were a pair...a pair of nuts.

  “We totally deserve each other.”

  “What’s that?” Logan asked. He'd ducked into the bathroom and emerged a few moments later with a handful of gauze and first aid supplies.

  “Nothing,” I said. “Just thinking aloud. Nice place.”

  He glanced around as if trying to see it through my eyes. “I know it's small. But work keeps me traveling. I don't need much more than a home base, a place to crash from time to time.”

  “Are you freaking kidding me? This is amazing. Look at that million-dollar view.”

  “Three million dollar,” he corrected and then wrapped me in his arms. “The only view I want to look at right now is you.”

  His lips landed on mine. The kiss tasted like home—secure, safe, and familiar. Like there was no other place in the world for me. I could have stayed in that kiss forever, but then I remembered he’d gone into the bathroom to get the first aid supplies.

  I tore my lips away from his. “Your shoulder.”

  “Hmm?” He pursued his lips. It would have been so easy to fall into the warmth and safety he was offering.

  “We’re not going to do this while you’re bleeding. Let me take care of you.” I pushed him—gently—onto the sofa.

  He gave me a goofy smile.

  “What?” I demanded.

  “You. I like the thought of letting you take care of me.”

  So I did. You’d better believe I took care of him. All of him.

  LOGAN WANTED TO PINCH himself. This couldn’t be happening. It felt too much like a dream he’d never dared allowed himself to dream. He was reaching too high. Like Icarus trying to fly too close to the sun.

  All his life he’d believed Sam had died. And he’d believed his ability to love had died with her. But here she was in his apartment. Her hand closed over his. With a gentle tug, she led him toward his bedroom.

  This couldn’t be happening.

  But it was.

  He ran his hand down her silky arm and smiled when she sighed deeply and pressed herself against his chest in response.

  Damn, he was a lucky bastard.

  Sam’s body fit perfectly with his. They did a sensual dance as their lips mated while they both maneuvered the other toward the waiting king-sized bed. With no more than a feather light press to his shoulder, he tumbled into the bed with her on top of him.

  Did he already say what a lucky bastard he was?

  Lucky.

  Lucky.

  Lucky.

  Her lips tasted sweeter than honey. Her tongue teased his while she reached down to unbutton the fly on his jeans.

  Oh hell.

  He should have been mindlessly enjoying this. He shouldn’t be thinking. If he were with any other woman, he wouldn’t be thinking. But this was Sam. His Sam. And because of that, his mind would not leave him alone.

  With a curse, he pushed her off him and then sat up on the bed. “Are you sure?” His voice sounded hoarse and gravely. He swallowed hard. “I mean. You were moments away from marrying another man. Are you sure you’re ready for this? I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

  And he didn’t want her running out on him after what was probably going to be the most important night of his life. Sure, she’d said she loved him. But had that been said in the heat of the moment? He had just saved her life. People often said and did odd things after the stress of life threatening situations had been lifted. He couldn’t open his heart to her only to have her walk out on him again.

  She didn’t walk out on you in the first place. Not willingly.

  Her bastard of a father had torn her family apart and had forced her mother to move her to another state. Still...

  He had to be sure. If she made love to him, if he let himself believe that she’d be in his life forever and she walked away, he hated to think what that might do to him.

  “I wasn’t going to marry him. I was going to call off the wedding. I swear. He didn’t love me. And I didn’t love him. I couldn’t love him. Not when my heart had already been taken.” She pressed a tender kiss on his lips.

  He recognized that kiss. It wasn’t the maddening kiss of a woman in the throes of I’m-still-alive passion. Nor was it the kiss of a woman who felt nothing but pity for the man she held in her arms. No, this kiss, this familiar kiss awakened a memory from his long-repressed past.

  It was gentle.

  It was loving.

  It was Sam’s kiss.

  They’d both been kids at the time, too young and too inexperienced to know what to do with their passions. The feelings behind that brief clumsy kiss they’d shared all those years ago had been real. No matter what had happened, no matter how circumstances had torn their lives apart, that kiss had been real. Sam had loved h
im.

  And she still did.

  His body trembled with both fear and need as he turned her around and reverently started to work on the pearl buttons that ran all the way down the back of her ripped wedding gown.

  Chapter 41

  I dozed in a cloud of passionate bliss. Never had I felt so very happy. Or so very, very sore. I don’t know if the soreness was the result of yesterday’s death defying leap from the roof of the church or from last night’s more...um...interesting activities with Logan.

  I sighed as I snuggled within Logan’s protective embrace. Morning was breaking over the city. Dew glistening off distant leaves waved hello at me from beyond the large bedroom windows. In my imagination, I could hear pretty song birds chirping as they happily greeted the morning.

  Logan shifted next to me, but he was still asleep. His soft snores were doing a good job of luring me back into the land of dreams. My eyelids were starting drift to close again.

  Suddenly, the double oak doors leading into the bedroom burst open with a splintering crack. Two men raced into the room.

  I tossed the covers over my head as I screamed. Gracious, that was stupid of me. It wasn’t as if my shouting about the attack would help save us.

  Thankfully, Logan had better reflexes and training when it came to matters of life and death. Like a cat, he leapt out of the bed with one graceful move. I dared to take a peek from under the covers to watch him. He already had a gun in his hand. Where had he been keeping that? Under the pillow? He stood in all his naked glory between me and our assailants. Taut muscles told me he was ready for anything.

  “Don’t shoot us!” one of the men cried as he dove to the floor. A moment later the second man dropped to his knees. He then raised a pair of shaky hands in the air.

  “What the hell, Rafe?” Logan kept his gun trained on the man who’d taken that first dive.

  The shock must have started to wear off. Or perhaps I was now awake enough for my blurry eyesight to clear. I recognized both men. The man flat on the ground with his hands covering his head was Logan’s partner Rafe. The man next to him, who was still on his knees with his arms waving in the air, was Jason.