by Noelle Adams
“Third floor, center unit.” Allison gripped her keys. “I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
He tipped his head. “What kind of a gentleman would I be if I didn’t walk a lady to her door?”
“That’s not necess—” She stopped when she saw the stubborn set of his jaw. “Oh, all right.”
The man was in serious need of lessons in compromise. Not that she was much better at it. They were both too headstrong for their own good and each other.
Butterflies made swan dives in her stomach as she led him up the open stairwell. He followed at her heels to the third-floor exterior walkway. The closer they came to her door, the more uncomfortable she grew. She wasn’t sure about having him here. Disrupting her safe, secluded sanctuary. Such as it was.
She’d just make him wait outside. In the cold. And snow. Under the fluorescent-orange porch light that doubled as a bug graveyard.
Charming. She gave a mental shrug. He was the one who’d insisted on walking her to her door. His discomfort wasn’t her problem.
Holding up her tangle of keys, she flipped through them. Logan stood behind her, the long lapels of his black wool coat brushing her back. His breath wafted down her neck, seeping between the buttons of her jacket. She fought the urge to lean back, let his strong arms come around her.
Piercing beeps signaled the fifteen-second delay on her alarm. She rushed to the dual panels on the wall, quickly entering the codes. Lights flashed from red to green. She turned around, and bumped into Logan’s chest. “Hey, you’re supposed to wait outside.”
Instead of complying, he investigated the devices. “A lot of security for a little place.” He scanned the labels bearing the Stone Security brand and model numbers. “A lot of money, too.”
“A girl can never be too safe.” She ignored his inquisitive stare. Spreading her arms to encompass her paltry collection of furniture—a drop-leaf table, a desk, a bookshelf, a TV that delivered three stations on a good day, a faded plaid couch that sagged in the middle, and landlord-beige walls. “I’d say make yourself comfortable, but you’re used to more impressive surroundings.”
“It’s…cozy.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll be fast.”
Dashing to the apartment’s single bedroom, she riffled through her wardrobe. How long had it been since she’d attended a formal function? She had the usual skirt suits for conferences and demos, and basic monochromic outfits for workdays. None of it up to par for tonight’s gala. She hauled out five outfits and promptly discarded them. Finally, at the back of her closet, she found the quintessential little black dress. She threw it on.
In her bathroom, she switched her curling iron on, then added black liquid-liner to her eyes and pink gloss to her lips. Once her hair regained its wave, she unplugged the iron, dragged her fingers through the strands and sighed in resignation.
This is as good as it gets.
Exiting the bathroom, she smoothed her moist palms over the tight fabric of her dress. The umpire-waist gown was on the small side—her breasts seemed bigger than usual, her hips rounder—making her self-conscious. She tugged the edges of her plunging V-neck closer together. Dipping into her hall closet, she plucked out a pair of maroon heels, more appropriate for the occasion than winter boots. Though, she’d never traipsed through a Denver snowstorm.
When she walked into the main room, she saw sexual fire snap to life in Logan’s eyes. “You look good.” He raked a heated gaze over her. “Too good.”
Maybe this dress was a bad idea. “I’ll change.”
“Hell no you won’t.”
When he grinned like that a dimple peeked out from his right cheek. God, he was gorgeous. She brushed past him, grabbing her coat. “Let’s get this over with.”
They drove thirty minutes to the five-star steakhouse downtown. As they passed the modern, glass-walled convention center and the grandly lit dome of the capital building, nerves jangled inside her.
Why had she let him talk her into this?
Hands twisting in her lap, she knew she didn’t belong at this gathering. Then again, she didn’t belong anywhere. Traveling with her parents as they gallivanted around Europe and Asia on the opera circuit, she’d lived out of well-appointed European hotels and reveled in the excitement backstage at the most elegant opera houses in the world. She’d also slept in small inns, messy trailers, and sometimes the back seat of a car. Her experiences in the U.S. turned out to be just as scattered, despite her ex-husband’s promise of the American dream, a house in the suburbs with a white picket fence. They’d moved around between rundown military housing complexes and army base bungalows. Her diverse background should make casual conversation easy. Instead, as they neared the work event, she felt more isolated than ever. What did she really have in common with them? With Logan?
She envied his perfect self-assurance. Seamlessly, he blended into any setting amidst all types, from his league of blue-collar system installers to the professional bodyguards he employed, to heads of state. Why he’d want her as his guest, when he could’ve invited someone better—like a senator’s daughter or a supermodel—was beyond her.
He swung his SUV up to the valet and handed the attendant his keys. Then he escorted her through the blustery night, held the door and ushered her inside. Glamorous chandeliers and glossy gold walls introduced them to the restaurant. He strolled up to the hostess. “Hi, Kendra.”
“Hello, Mr. Stone.” The hostess smiled and batted her lashes at him.
A typical female response, Allison had noted since she first met Logan at a security convention two years ago. Women couldn’t help themselves. She sighed. She’d succumbed to his charm herself. One night he seemed intent not to let her forget.
The hostess didn’t acknowledge Allison, the girl’s attention focused solely on him. “It’s good to see you again. Your party is right this way.”
They stopped at the coat check. Logan helped Allison remove her jacket, shrugged out of his, and handed the garments over the counter. Then they headed toward a bank of private rooms at the rear of the vaulted dining room.
When his hand settled on the small of her back, she stiffened. She walked a little faster.
“Relax,” he whispered in her ear.
Easy for you to say. He steered her toward the largest of the private rooms filled with dozens of people. She swallowed. “I’m having second thoughts.”
“You belong here as much as anyone. You need to take more pride in your work.”
She lifted her chin. “I take plenty of pride in what I do.”
It’s just she’d never navigated well in crowds. Right before they entered, she caught a glimpse of the packed room.
She dug in her heels. “I can’t do this.”
“Too late now.”
The instant he dragged her into the party room, everything froze. Conversations ended. People paused in the middle of sipping champagne.
Clapping rang out when he strutted forth as the guest of honor. Smiles adored every face. What an entourage. She wanted to melt into the floor.
“Thanks for coming tonight.” He beamed proudly, while she ducked into his shadow.
One of his receptionists raced up to him with an icy glass of dark amber liquid the color of his eyes. “Johnny Walker Blue label on the rocks, the way you like it, Mr. Stone.”
He lifted it high. “A toast,” he announced, “to my talented colleagues, who’ve worked hard to take us to the top. Cheers.”
“Cheers!” they echoed. Glasses clinked.
After taking a sip, he revealed a bold grin. “Now let’s get this party started.”
Laughter rose up. Conversations resumed.
Not before Allison caught plenty of stares directed her way.
Face hot, she broke from Logan’s side and beelined to the nearest corner. This happened to be the busy private bar, offering camouflage so she could gather herself.
He knew he’d be the center of attention when he walked in, placing her at the mercy of
his spotlight. Like unsuspecting Laoula in the French Opera L’étoile.
Despite his charm and sex appeal, and how his smile could make her feel like the only woman in the world, he could also be single-minded and self-absorbed. And he still made her knees weak. The jerk.
Clenching her hands, she turned to the bartender. “I need a Cosmo martini.”
“What kind of vodka?” he asked.
“Strong.”
The young man grinned. “You got it.”
While waiting, she peered over her shoulder. Putting distance between her and Logan seemed to have warded off coworker scrutiny. People made a cocoon around him, drenching him in praise, peppering him with questions about the bright future of Stone Security. A future she’d never see.
She should be used to coming and going without making an impact. As a professional facilitator she was hired on short-term stints to train government and private sector employees, a passing figure, temporary. How it’s supposed to be, she reminded herself. So at any moment she could quietly pick up and leave before she made a connection, before she developed friendships, before anyone considered her important enough to keep around. Or considered her a threat. Her ex-husband’s volatility spread like a forest fire, consuming everything in his path. No one deserved to get sucked into the raging menace that continued to stalk her. She’d bear that burden alone. As long as she kept moving, she was safe. So was everyone she came in contact with, or came to care about. Like Logan.
Packing cool reserve around her wistful thoughts, she watched her colleagues smiling, laughing, discussing the success of the Elite System, the snowstorm outside, the cafeteria meatloaf, the trials of potty training two-year-olds. It was all so…normal.
Oh, God, what I would give to know normal. Instead, she was planning her next trip into obscurity, before her past caught up to her.
***
Across the room, Logan’s head snapped up. He combed the crowd, eyes narrowed, searching for the cause of his distraction.
Despite an entourage of employees, he’d felt a chill. Scanning a moment, his eyes landed on Allison’s gorgeous form folded in shadows near the bar.
He couldn’t explain it, her sudden detachment, but he felt as if he’d stepped into a walk-in freezer. It bothered him, as though something that was rightfully his had been taken away.
A whiny tone pierced his intrigue. “Don’t you think we should broaden my territory to the upper Midwest?” Kurt Keegan inserted himself into the conversation, taking over the surrounding chatter.
Logan pulled himself into the moment. “Lance Briggs has Michigan and Wisconsin covered.” He exhaled. “Didn’t we have this discussion four weeks ago?”
A flush crept along Keegan’s starched collar. “Sure, but you know, the orders are really pouring in, and I thought—”
“I gave you my answer.” Logan stood firm. “A few drinks at a casual company function won’t change my mind. Keep up with your own territory. Tonight, enjoy the party.”
That’s one thing he didn’t like about company functions. Offer a relaxed setting with food and booze, and some people believed the line between friend and boss blurred.
His attention drifted back to Allison. Then again, sometimes those lines do blur.
A brusque nod ended his conversation with Keegan. He moved across the room. Allison stood tucked between the wall and the bar wearing a pensive frown, her eyes downcast. She looked sad, alone. Lost. He lengthened his strides.
En route, he watched her take a sip of her martini and immediately shove it away, making a face like she’d bit into a lemon. Recently, he’d noticed something was different about her. An added glow in her cheeks. Maybe the change in weather, or—
“What the hell have you done?” Nostrils flaring, Rick stood in his path like a bull stamping the ground, prepared to charge.
“I’ve been making the rounds. You know, being social. That thing you hate. Now I’m getting a refill.” Logan gestured to Rick’s empty glass. “Want one?”
“I want you to quit obsessing over Allison.”
“Whose obsession, exactly?”
Rick ignored the retort. “What were you thinking, walking into a packed room with her like she’s your damn date?”
Logan set his chin at a hard angle. “Maybe she is.”
A brooding light flickered in Rick’s eyes. “You wanted proof. I have it.”
Warning prickled over Logan’s scalp. “Concerning…”
“Who else?” Rick scoffed.
Logan braced himself. “What about her?”
“Not here.” Rick shook his head, his expression almost gloating. Like a gambler with an ace up his sleeve. “Get her to leave. Then we’ll talk.”
“Can’t do that. She came with me.”
Rick mumbled something about the biggest idiot on the planet. If Rick thought he could force Logan’s hand, he was wrong.
“Can’t you act like normal people, and leave work at the office?”
Rick shot back, “Hey, I’m just following your lead.”
Zing. That bullet grazed its mark. Lately, Logan hadn’t been true to his own vow to separate work from pleasure. The thing that had ended his military career. But when it came to verbal warfare, he had his own arsenal and history with his brother-in-arms. “What’s the matter, Rick? Bitter everyone else is having fun and getting laid except you?”
“If your idea of fun is getting screwed over, I’m all for Camp Celibacy.”
“How morally superior.”
Hostility sizzled in the air. “You know, ‘shallow’ doesn’t wear well on you—like it used to.”
“You win. ‘Power trip’ looks better than ever on you.”
“I’d rather look good in that than ‘horny stupidity’ any day.”
“I want her. I admit it. Happy?”
“Not until that woman is history.”
Logan dug into the trenches. “Allison is the reason we’re straddling the billion-dollar mark. I went against your judgment and hired her. She translated our system into six languages. We have the global advantage over every other system. She’s to thank.”
“And thanks to her it’s like you’re one step away from leaping out of a plane without a parachute.”
“Jealous?”
Rick revealed a dimly amused grin. “A little.”
“Let it go.”
“Can’t.”
“Then for God’s sake, shut up.”
“Can’t do that either. I have as much at stake in this company as you. I’m the dude waving the glow wands on the runway, as you’re trying to land in the dark.”
No getting around that analogy. “Thanks for the pep talk, Captain Invincible.”
“Now you’re just flattering me.” Rick’s expression fluctuated between amused, frustrated and pitying. Typical married guy, four kids, retired from the military—and worth hearing out, as he harped on his usual cautionary tale. They used to goad each other like this all the time. Their friendly hostility reminded him of old times. He had to admit, if Rick’s attack wasn’t founded on truth he wouldn’t be fighting so hard.
Rick said low, “She’s not Stephanie.”
Logan’s fists clenched. “You think I need someone to tell me that?”
Despite the antagonistic words, images flashed in his mind of his sister Stephanie’s outcome. She’d been horrifically brutalized. Logan had taken time off base, his first year in the military, to answer his sister’s frantic call for help.
“My sister has nothing to do with this,” Logan said, his voice allowing no secondary questions.
Logan needed tonight to make a lasting impression, like Allison had made on him. Even though she seemed to have forgotten, or ignored, how great their chemistry was. The way his touch compelled her surrender, how his mouth had made her cry out his name. How her touch reduced him to a madman who’d defy any risk to claim her. He wanted to remind her that what they’d shared, one night, they’d have again. If only she’d let down her guard.
>
He wasn’t backing down. “Bring me that dose of reality tomorrow,” he told Rick. “Tonight, I want what’s mine.”
“Sure she’s worth it?”
Remembering the way Allison tasted on his tongue, Logan shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I want her anyway.”
Rick’s eyebrows rose. “I’m not changing my mind.”
“Neither am I.”
“We’ll see about that tomorrow.”
“So you say.”
“Remember something, Stone. After the military you decided to go into the security business, and I was with you every step. From the back of a warehouse in the ghetto, to owning half a city block, we’ve built a fine company with an unmatched reputation. We made this a success.” Rick’s jaw tightened. “I won’t watch you waste that over a woman.”
Logan’s eyes slitted. “You think I’d sacrifice Stone Security to repeat the past?”
Rick’s silence said everything.
Insulted, he flexed his hands. “Allison is not Natalia—or Stephanie. And if you keep butchering her for my past mistakes, we do have a problem.”
Rick insisted with exasperation, “I’m not your enemy.”
“You’re not acting like a friend, or you’d trust me.”
Rick’s carotid artery looked on the verge of bursting. “If you saw me pitching off the deep end, you’d step in and save my ass.”
“Right. So?”
“So, I’m not going to stand here and watch you fall—” Suddenly, Rick froze. Dawning realization broke across his brow. “But you already have.”
Logan gave a dismissive grunt. He noticed he was gripping his glass too tightly. He relaxed his fingers. “No one’s falling for anybody. I’m interested,” he admitted casually. In everything except her past. Everyone made mistakes. He didn’t care where she’d been or what she’d done with whom. “I want to see where this goes with her.”
“This isn’t you. You’d never walk into a snake pit and figure out your escape plan later.”
“Like that’s ever stopped me.”
“It should this time. Aren’t you even curious what dirt I dug up on her?”
“Not tonight.”
Rick exhaled. “I warned you.”
