by Lisa Childs
After the long day he’d had, he should have been as exhausted as she was. He should have been willing to burrow into the blankets like she was and sleep. But if he laid down beside her gorgeous body, the last thing on his mind was going to be sleep. And some damn bodyguard he’d prove to be if he didn’t stay awake to protect her from whoever meant her harm.
Harm? The bomb proved whoever was after her didn’t want her just hurt; he wanted her dead.
Logan’s arms tightened for a moment, holding her close. He didn’t want her dead. He wanted her…which scared him more than someone shooting at him. He forced himself to release her and pull away. But he couldn’t get far enough away to stop wanting her—not without compromising her safety.
He had to focus on protecting her. A cold shower might cool his reaction to having Stacy Kozminski in his house—in his bed. It might also stop his shoulder from throbbing and force him to think with his brain instead of another part of his body.
And it wasn’t as if he was leaving her unprotected while he showered. She wasn’t alone in the bed any longer. Cujo had climbed onto the mattress beside her. His furry body was tense and his ears up and alert for any sound of an intruder.
Eager to be rid of the tuxedo he hated wearing, he stripped off the jacket and then the shirt and left them in a trail that led to the master bathroom. But he held tight to the holster he’d removed with the shirt and placed his weapon on the granite counter within reach of the shower. He didn’t drop his pants and boxers until he closed the pocket door and shut out the sight of Stacy sleeping in his bed.
He was too tempted to kick Cujo out of bed and take his place next to his mistress. His body throbbed, and it wasn’t just his shoulder. A bandage covered the stitches, but he wasn’t supposed to get it wet. He turned on the shower and stepped beneath the spray before the water had the chance to warm. It struck his skin like needles, nipping into his sensitive flesh. And he welcomed the pain.
Heck, maybe he was a masochist. Maybe that was why he had become attracted to a woman who hated him. And if he actually agreed to her and his mother’s crazy plan to get married, it was destined to end badly. Painfully…
For him.
He glanced down at the bandage on his shoulder. Blood and water saturated the gauze and tape, and the wound beneath the bandage throbbed. But that pain was nothing in comparison to what she could do to him…
Was that why she proposed? To get close enough to him that she could hurt him herself? He should have told her brothers the truth since he doubted it mattered to them whether he was their sister’s fiancé. They still wanted him dead. But maybe by posing as her fiancé, he could get close enough to them to find evidence like the gun or get them to confess to the attempts on his life.
A menacing growl emanated from the bedroom. The sound raised more goose bumps on Logan’s flesh than the icy water had. He shut off the faucet and listened for whatever Cujo had heard. An engine rumbled in the driveway. And another…
A couple of vehicles had driven up to his house. How many people were after him and Stacy?
He grabbed a towel and hastily wrapped it around his hips before reaching for his holster and drawing his weapon. He slid open the pocket door to find Cujo standing on his bed, his hair bristling as he stood guard over his mistress. Curled up like a kitten, Stacy was still sleeping soundly.
“Good dog,” Logan murmured before slipping from the room to head to the front door and the driveway. Before he reached it, the door opened, so he cocked his gun.
“Don’t shoot,” his brother said with his hands lifted above his head.
“Then don’t sneak up on a man who’s been getting shot at,” he cautioned Parker. Just in case he might be tempted to use it on his twin, he set his weapon on the butcher-block counter of the island situated between the open kitchen and living-room area. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s that whole getting-shot-at thing,” Parker said. “I’m checking up on you.” He glanced back toward Logan’s SUV—he must have closed the passenger door. “Making sure everything’s all right…”
If he’d only been acting out of concern as a brother or even out of professional concern as a bodyguard, why hadn’t he come alone? Their sister and their top security expert, Candace Baker, had come along with him in their own vehicles. As the women joined Parker inside his house, Logan asked, “What’s really going on?”
“You tell us,” Parker said.
“I wish I knew,” he admitted. He had been so convinced Stacy was behind the attempts on his life. And maybe she was—maybe that was why she’d proposed. Or maybe she’d proposed to save him, as she’d said. But who was going to save her? Because that bomb was proof that he wasn’t the only one someone wanted dead…
Parker expelled a ragged sigh of relief. “I knew Mom was messing with us.”
“Mom doesn’t mess with us,” Nikki hotly defended her. She had no idea just how manipulative—albeit with good intentions—their mother could be.
Her face tense, Candace curtly explained, “She told us that you’re marrying Stacy Kozminski.”
He had thought news of the bomb at Stacy’s apartment might have brought them here as backup. But now he realized why they’d really shown up.
Parker shook his head. “She’s gotta be messing with us. That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”
It was crazy. And Logan couldn’t believe his mother’s audacity in announcing his fake engagement to everyone. He really should call both her and Stacy liars. A marriage was out of the question. But an engagement…
He might be able to use that to his advantage. “What’s so crazy about it?” he asked.
Nikki gasped. “I knew Mom wasn’t lying, but I thought she was mistaken. You and Stacy Kozminski…”
“Would kill each other,” Parker said. “You can’t stand each other!”
“Is that why you guys are here?” he asked. “Is this some kind of intervention?” Maybe he needed one because he was afraid he’d lost his judgment where Stacy was concerned. He found her entirely too attractive…and damn near irresistible.
“Since the definition of an intervention is getting someone to stop doing harm to himself, that’s exactly what this is,” Candace replied.
“I’m not hurting myself,” he said. It wasn’t exactly a lie; the cold shower hadn’t actually hurt him. That much…
“She will,” Candace said. “She’s been threatening you for years—every time her father came up for parole she threatened you to not show up.”
She’d asked him not to speak at his hearings. She’d even begged once, and while he’d respected how hard that must have been for a woman as proud as she was, he hadn’t granted her request. He’d spoken…and maybe his words had influenced the board to deny his parole.
“When her father died after the last hearing, I knew she would make good on her threats. I knew she would try to kill you,” Candace said, her face reddening with outrage on his behalf.
She had protected him once from shots fired at him. But Logan had thought then that those shots had been intended for Cooper. Now he knew…
Candace reminded him, “You thought she was the one behind the shootings, too.”
Parker’s head bobbed in a sharp nod. “That’s it. That’s why you’re doing this—to get evidence against her. It’s that whole keep your friends close and your enemies closer…”
After that kiss, he had been tempted to get close to her. Real close.
“Stacy’s not my enemy.” She wasn’t his friend, either, and given their families’ histories, they were unlikely to ever become friends.
“Then what is she?” Candace asked, her usually even voice nearly shrill with emotion.
“My fiancée.”
While Parker and Candace both sputtered at his announcement, Nikki remained oddly silent. She was usually the most gregarious of the Payne siblings—the most like their mother even though she vehemently denied the comparison. She wanted to be tough and cynical
like her brothers. Logan preferred her as she was. Innocent and hopeful and maybe more romantic than she would ever admit. She studied him carefully, as if trying to find something that wasn’t there: love.
“Did you let Mom talk you into this?” Parker asked. “Is this one of her matchmaking schemes?”
Probably. “You really think I would let Mom manipulate me into one of her plans?”
“If not, why are you marrying her?” Candace asked. Her voice was still shrill and now he recognized the anger behind it. Why was she so angry about his fake engagement?
Maybe if his siblings had come alone to see him, he would have admitted the truth. But all he really knew about Candace Baker was that she was ex-military and ex-police and now a damn good bodyguard.
He replied in the tone his siblings and employees alike knew brooked no arguments. “I have my reasons.”
“Love,” Nikki said, as if she’d found what she’d been looking for on his face.
Parker snorted. “Did you hit your head when Logan knocked you down on the church steps earlier? There’s no love between him and Stacy. It’s called hate.”
“It’s called passion,” Nikki said. “That fine line between love and hate. Those two have been obsessed with each other for years. The way they’ve stared at each other during court and the parole hearings…”
Candace groaned as if she’d seen it, too.
What had they seen?
Nikki emitted a wistful sigh. “It’s so Romeo and Juliet…”
“Yeah,” Candace said. “Both of them wound up dead.”
Parker chuckled. “Is that one of your reasons, Logan? Love?”
While Nikki continued to study his face, as if waiting for his confirmation, Parker and Candace looked beyond him to the woman who padded barefoot from his bedroom. Instead of her black funeral dress, she wore his tuxedo shirt now with the cuffs rolled up and the tear in the shoulder revealing more of her honey-toned skin. Despite the smudges and blood on the shirt, her black lace bra and panties were visible through the thin white silk.
“Okay,” Parker said with an appreciative whistle. “I can see what those reasons are now.”
What the hell was Stacy Kozminski up to now? Dressed as she was, the woman was more dangerous than the bomb they’d found in her apartment.
*
WHAT HAD SHE been thinking? Stacy could have kicked herself for acting so impulsively as to take off her dress and pull on Logan’s shirt. She wished that she’d brilliantly planned the action in order to prove the validity of their fake engagement.
But she’d really just acted on impulse. She’d heard that woman’s voice—full of jealousy and disdain for her—and she had reacted. Childishly…
Heat flushed her face, but she refused to succumb to humiliation now—especially with that short-haired Amazon woman glaring at her with stark hatred. And jealousy…
Who was she exactly? Did she have a right to that jealousy? What was she to Logan? Stacy had seen her at the last couple of parole hearings, as if she’d come with him to offer her support. Or stick her nose in where it hadn’t belonged. Logan had never been married, so she wasn’t a current or even an ex-wife.
Girlfriend? Lover? Friend with benefits?
When the woman focused her gaze on him, the hatred left her eyes. Lust and adulation replaced it. “If you’re doing this to stop the attempts on your life, it isn’t necessary,” she told him. “I can protect you—like I’ve protected you before.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Logan said dismissively.
“You don’t think you’re in danger any longer?” Parker asked.
“I know that I can protect myself,” Logan replied, “I am the CEO of Payne Protection.”
With a chuckle of amusement, Parker assured him, “We definitely know you’re the boss.”
And that woman—that besotted woman—was apparently one of his employees since a family member wouldn’t be looking at him like that. Like Stacy looked at him…
She couldn’t not look at him. Except for the bandage on his shoulder, he wore only a towel slung low around his lean hips—his tight buttocks clearly defined, even through the thick terry cloth. His chest and back were bare and broad and all sculpted muscles.
Despite waking up thirsty, she was suddenly nearly drooling. Her skin heated and flushed with attraction. With need…
She had never needed anyone like this before. She had wanted a man before but she’d never needed one. Logan Payne was not just any good-looking man. He was the one who had kept her father from her when she’d needed him most. She looked away from Logan’s brain-scramblingly sexy body, and her gaze collided with his sister’s. Her dark eyes were so much like her mother’s—so warm and affectionate. Stacy couldn’t recall ever exchanging any words with the youngest Payne before.
Nikki spoke now. “Congratulations,” she said as she closed the distance between them and pulled Stacy into a hug.
The woman even felt like her mother—like warmth and safety. But Stacy drew back. “Congratulations?”
“On your engagement,” she said with a chuckle. Then she threw her arms around her brother and kissed his cheek. “Congratulations to you, too.”
Logan’s brows arched; he was apparently as confused as Stacy was over his sister’s reaction. The others might have come to stage an intervention, as Stacy had overheard Logan remark, but not Nikki.
“You’ll want to get together with Mom soon,” Nikki spoke to her again. “Or she’ll have your wedding all planned out without any input from you.”
Parker and that woman were also looking at Nikki as if she’d lost her mind. But she just smiled and turned for the door. “We should leave them alone now,” she said. “They’ve just gotten engaged.”
The woman’s face flushed again—with embarrassment and fury—and she turned that gaze of hatred on Stacy. “But Logan’s still in danger—probably in even more danger now with her here.”
Parker slid an arm around the woman’s shoulders and turned her toward the door. “Nikki’s right. We should leave them alone.” He escorted the women out and then turned back and winked at his twin before he closed the front door behind them all.
Stacy wasn’t so certain that leaving them alone was the best idea—especially when Logan turned toward her. His gaze was every bit as intense as his employee’s. He was angry with her, but he wasn’t just angry. There was passion burning in his bright blue eyes as he stared at her.
Despite the heat of that look, she shivered.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have taken off your dress,” he suggested. “Then you wouldn’t be cold.”
She wasn’t cold. She was hot. So hot that she lifted trembling fingers to the collar of his shirt. But she hadn’t done up that many buttons so she didn’t dare undo any more. “I—I’m fine.”
Logan shook his head. “You’re lying to me again.”
“I haven’t lied to you,” she said.
“You haven’t told me the truth,” he said. “Same difference.”
“What haven’t I told you?”
He shrugged. “If I knew, it wouldn’t matter. But I can sense that you’re holding something back.”
More than he knew. And more than she would ever admit to…
She would touch a bomb before she’d confess to her attraction to him. The bomb was probably less likely to blow up in her face.
She shook her head. “You’re paranoid.”
“It would be foolish to trust you,” he said, “and I’m no fool.”
She wished she could say the same, but she had already made a fool out of herself by walking out of the bedroom wearing his shirt. Sure, she could have excused her action as proving their engagement real. But his family wasn’t the one they needed to convince; it was hers.
“I know you’re up to something,” he said, and gestured toward his shirt. But then, his arm outstretched, he hooked a finger inside the collar and pulled her closer. “What are you up to?”
“About five-
six,” she quipped.
His mouth curved, a grin tugging up the corners of it. “Cute.”
“I get that a lot,” she said with a smile. God, she was flirting with the man. She was actually flirting. She never flirted.
“Your remark was cute,” he clarified. “Not you.”
She sucked in a breath—surprised that even he was insensitive enough to take back his compliment. “Okay, then…”
Since she had really come out wearing his shirt in order to stake her claim on her fake fiancé, she was definitely the fool. She turned back toward the bedroom—and her dress. But he caught her wrist and stopped her.
He stepped close to her so that she felt the heat of his nearly naked body through the thin silk of his shirt. “You’re not cute,” he repeated.
And she had begun to think that he wasn’t as cruel as she’d always believed…
But then he leaned down, his mouth nearly touching her ear, and added, “You’re beautiful.”
She closed her eyes as pleasure at his compliment radiated throughout her. She wasn’t used to compliments. In the past, either she or her brothers had scared off the men who might have been attracted to her. “Now who’s up to something?”
“I’m just being honest,” he replied. “You might want to try it sometime.”
“Honest?” She snorted derisively at his claim of being honest and his insinuation that she wasn’t. “You’re just trying to flatter and disarm me.”
He turned her around to face him. And seeing his handsome face and all that bare skin rattled her.
She couldn’t think. She could barely breathe. Her pulse raced, and her heart beat frantically.
“You are beautiful,” he said. “Even when I hated you, I couldn’t help but notice that.”
“You—you hated me?” She’d known it, but having him outright admit it…caused a twinge of pain in her heart.
Unabashed, he grinned. “You hated me, too. Hell, you still hate me—”
Stacy shook her head. “You saved my life,” she said. “I can’t hate you anymore.” But she wished she could, because with the hatred gone, she couldn’t fight the attraction she’d always felt for him.
