by Noelle Adams
She dug out her phone and scrolled through the few numbers she had saved. Logan’s cell was number one. She swallowed that bitter pill of realization.
“Stone here.”
“Logan, what have you done?” Her lungs grabbed for breath.
“Come to me. I’ll explain everything.”
Six
Sitting at his desk, Logan saw a New Message notification flash on his screen. He clicked from a report to his email. It was from Allison. No text in the message, only the subject line which read: Be in my office in thirty minutes.
Touché. A half-smile kicked up the corner of his mouth.
Without hesitation, he clicked the check mark to accept the invite. Then he went back to his project report.
Soon after, he lost the ability to concentrate on work. He knew what lay in store. Starting with Allison reaming him out, followed by…what, he wasn’t sure. He was confident he’d done the right thing, the only thing he could do—make sure the mother of his child was safe. The kind of protection only he could provide, which included her living under his roof.
The words in the report blurred, the letters creating incoherent phrases. He caught himself tapping his foot. It didn’t help that meeting reminder messages kept flashing at him every five minutes like a bunker warning that screamed “fire in the hole!” He clicked Dismiss All.
He shoved his chair away from his desk, the casters rolling him back two feet. He stood and paced. He crossed his arms. Uncrossed them. Stared at the view of the Denver skyline from his corner office.
Rolling his neck to ease his tight muscles, he thought back to that morning. Before dawn, when he met the moving van outside her apartment, he’d had all his arguments in a row like a checklist he could mark off as he hit each rational point.
That he and Allison would have this argument at work, however, left a bad taste of uncertainty in his mouth. Maybe he could convince her to wait until the end of the day to have it out with him. Yeah, and maybe the Cubs will win the World Series.
An odd sensation hooked into his nerves, making his skin itch and his heart skip a beat. His palms were moist like he was about to show up for a first date with roses and champagne with a woman he knew would turn him down.
He stopped pacing and shook his head. “Don’t be an idiot,” he mocked himself.
When the hands of his titanium Rolex read nine-thirty, the sense of impending doom had not disappeared.
This is stupid. He’d go in, lay out the facts, and field all the objections she lobbed at him. Like dodging mortar shells.
“Should be fun,” he muttered. He left his office for hers. Along the way a stab of remorse gouged him for putting her through this same thing yesterday when he’d called her into his office.
The battalion of employees that rushed him when he emerged from his office was strangely absent. Usually they hovered around him, pelting him with questions only he could answer, shoving papers in his face only he could sign. But the hallway was empty.
Taking a deep, he approached Allison’s office door and knocked.
“Come in,” she said. He couldn’t gauge the tone of her voice.
Squaring his shoulders, he entered. He shut the door before she told him to, and stood his ground unapologetically.
Allison sat at her desk with her hands folded. The red sweater she wore was a little snug, clinging to her curves. An outfit she’d borrowed from Devon? He slid a lusty gaze over her, eyelids lowering halfway.
Honestly, he did try to focus, to rein in his distracted thoughts. When all he wanted to do was drag her over the desk, peel her out of that too-tight sweater, and slid his tongue through her cleavage.
“Logan,” she snapped, ripping him out of the fantasy. “Eyes up here.” He met her chilling stare.
Sliding his hands into his pockets, he offered an opaque smile. “How can I be of service?”
He’d like to “service” her six ways from Sunday. Right now that looked about as likely as the military finally giving him the honorable discharge he deserved.
“Return my things to my apartment. And maybe I won’t press charges for breaking and entering.” Each word was coated with contempt.
“Neither of those is a good idea.”
Her eyes skewered him. “Afraid your precious reputation in the security industry will be tarnished?”
“That’s a reason, but not the real one.”
“Oh?” She arched an eyebrow of disbelief.
It was time to take off the gloves. “I’ve done some investigating over the past twenty-four hours.” He held up his hands. “Before you get bent out of shape, I used my personal contacts in the military who ran air-tight background checks on what your ex-husband has been doing the past four years. You were right to get out when you did.”
Her eyes slitted. “I don’t need your absolution for my choices.”
He shrugged. “Maybe not, but Trevor’s suspicious activities have left a bloody trail across continents. From what I know, I’d say that ugly path is heading right here to you.”
Color drained from her face. “If he knows where I am, it’s your fault.”
“Cold comfort right about now.” Logan stepped toward her. She straightened, placing her rigid fingertips on her desk, imposing a hostile barrier between them that he ignored. “You’d really take a life of fear, on the run, over the security and protection I can give you and our child?”
“It’s not that simple.”
He shook his head. “It’s so simple you’re letting yourself get blinded by distractions.”
“Being pregnant is not something I’d call a distraction!”
“I agree,” he said calmly. “That’s why we’re having this conversation.”
The one he’d planned to have with her last night.
If he was going to be a father, he’d do it right. He’d slit his own throat before he missed his kid’s first cry, first steps, first words, first game of catch, first day of school. It seemed Allison wasn’t quite ready to digest the eventuality of having a baby—his baby. She needed his patience and the promise of protection first. So he’d pursue that angle.
At his pause, she laid into him. “When you took my things, you didn’t give me the respect of deciding what is or isn’t right for me.”
That struck his pride like a match. “You made a choice, Allison. Last night you shut me out. You hid at Devon’s, when you should’ve been talking to me about options for the future. So I made a choice, too.”
Her delicate nostrils flared. “I told you I needed time.”
“You’re carrying my baby. I have a say in that.” He glanced at her abdomen then held her gaze. “I take care of what’s mine.”
“That isn’t a free pass to raid my apartment and take over my life like you own me.”
“When I’m confronted with a situation, I take action. No one else is going to ensure the mother of my child is safe. Not the way I can.”
“I’d be fine, if Rick hadn’t been so determined to pin a scarlet letter on me.”
“For all his faults, Rick can’t stand to see innocent people suffer. When he learned the truth and realized he’d screwed up—and you might suffer the consequences—he didn’t go home last night, hasn’t slept since yesterday.”
“Rick doesn’t seem the type to lie awake with a guilty conscience.”
“You have a lot to learn about the way we work,” Logan pointed out evenly. “He and I have been gathering every piece of intel that exists on Trevor Hurtz.”
“I told you not to do that!”
“Avoiding the enemy doesn’t solve the problem. Perfect example, after your divorce you took out three restraining orders against Trevor. He violated every one of them.”
“You know about that?” she asked weakly.
“I know Trevor better than you think.”
Her bravado returned. “I’ve done everything to make sure we don’t cross paths. He’s stayed away for two years.”
“Not by choice, I ca
n tell you that.” Leaning forward, he flattened his hands on her desk. “From what I’ve researched, Trevor operates with cash transactions, blood money from selling illegal weapons to war-torn African and Middle Eastern nations.”
Allison swallowed convulsively.
“Rick and I found a trail of suspicious loans and credit card transactions under an alias he’s been known to use. We tracked the purchases back to him.”
She folded her arms. “Why should I care about my ex-husband’s finances?”
“Trevor’s hired a slew of shady private investigators over the past two years. I made a few phone calls. After threats and bribery, I got the reluctant confessions I needed.” He knew she wasn’t going to like what he’d found. “Trevor has never stopped looking for you, Allison.”
She turned white. “Tell me you’re making this up.”
Shaking his head, he revealed, “While Rick’s investigation may have alerted Trevor, it was only a matter of time before you ex showed up on your doorstep. And it wouldn’t be for coffee and conversation.”
“I know that.” She tried to put on a brave front, but Logan saw the fear in her eyes. “I know what he’s capable of. That’s why you should forget about this baby, forget you ever knew me, and I’ll move to France.”
“Yeah, Rick mentioned your insistence about France. Didn’t take me long to figure out why.”
Her lips parted. “Do personal boundaries mean anything to you?”
Logan hardened his posture and his tone. “Let me tell you something. If you think an inconvenient verdict would prevent Trevor from getting into the country, you’re dead wrong.”
It was harsh, but he needed to get it through her head what she was up against.
“I’ve tracked spies, terrorists, and hit men into cities and towns and deserts where, according to law, they should’ve been shot on sight. People like Trevor don’t play by the rules.”
Anxiety twisted her features as she absorbed the hard truth.
“You’ve heard misery loves company? So does evil. Men like your ex have the kind of connections you’d never want to meet in a dark alley. They stick together like hyenas on the hunt for the next carcass to pick clean. Borders and legalities mean nothing to them.”
For a moment she shook like a small porcelain teacup rocked by a 9.0 earthquake. It took everything in him not to reach for her, reassure her. But some facts needed to shake a person to the core.
She spoke through bloodless lips. “If you’re trying to scare me into staying in the states…it might be working.” The desolation in her eyes hit him hard. “I’m just so tired of being afraid all the time.”
“I know, sweetheart.” His quiet admission seemed to ease her dejectedness. “Do this my way, and you won’t have to anymore.”
Tears lined her lower lashes. “You can’t make promises like that, Logan. No matter how well-intentioned. You can’t prevent something beyond your control.” She lifted her chin. “I may be naïve about the way the criminal mind works, but I’m not stupid or helpless.”
“I agree.” He gave a firm nod. “You’re exceptionally intelligent, with the self-preservation instincts of a porcupine.” He sighed. “You’re a good person in a bad place. I’m offering you the best solution considering the circumstances.”
“Great,” she murmured despairingly. As if he’d driven a four-wheeler over a sandcastle she’d spent years building.
Still, he believed truth was more constructive than fantasy.
Then she straightened. Hard-eyed daring infused her. “I’ll give you my decision by the end of today.”
“Perfect. I’ll see you at dinner.”
“Logan.”
“Your choice, of course.” She seemed momentarily appeased as he headed for the door. Until he added a rascal remark, “I’m fine with chicken or steak. But it’s your call.”
“You are impossible!” She stamped her foot.
“One of my countless charms.” He concealed a grin, hearing her mutters of frustration as he walked out of her office.
Allison never stopped giving him challenges, making his victories all the sweeter. He could almost taste this one. If he had his way, he’d taste her again, too. Soon enough she’d be with him, under his roof and his protection, and eventually in his bed.
***
“Which is worse?” Allison wondered aloud, white-knuckling her steering wheel as she navigated toward Logan’s suburban residence. “Looking into the hell you’ve known, or facing the devil you don’t?”
Fact was, Logan—as Devon had annoyingly predicted—was her best and only option when it came to fending off her ex. She knew Logan would protect her and the baby, but his high-handed attitude reminded her too much of Trevor.
Unfortunately, facing an unknown future with a baby on the way, a sweet innocent being who deserved every good thing in life, made Logan’s option a foregone conclusion. There was still a part of her that hadn’t come to grips with the baby-reality. Old emotions from her disappointing childhood surfaced, things she hadn’t wanted to confront.
“No time like the present.” Her breath frosted in the air as she waited for her car to manufacture heat.
At least she’d have her things back. She might not have much to call her own, but what little she possessed meant everything to her. Like the small snow globe she’d begged her father to buy her when she was thirteen—a picturesque scene from the Phantom of the Opera. Their family had lived like kings that year. Her parents had “condescended” to perform in an American play, though set in France. They’d taken the stage at sold-out shows month after month, money poured in, and the three of them had been happy. Happier than she’d ever remembered.
The opposition between darkness and light, love and obsession, stalker and hero had blurred for her that year. She’d nurtured an infatuation for the gorgeous dark-haired actor playing the Phantom. Her first crush, first awakening to desire. She hadn’t known how to deal with all those teenage hormones bouncing around inside her. But she’d related to Christine, the protagonist of the musical. Allison had always imagined a secret admirer putting her unnoticed talent and brilliance above all else. She wanted to be the object of the Phantom’s passion. But that came with a price. As it had with Trevor during the last years of their marriage.
In the beginning, she’d thought Trevor’s attentiveness and possessiveness had been the ultimate expression of devotion. He quickly built his world around her, but she learned fast that being put on a pedestal was a lonely, frightening place. That kind of gap created false expectations. She couldn’t meet him in the middle without falling from her perch. The more time passed, the more Trevor saw her as a person, not the perfect object he’d wanted. The further she fell, the meaner Trevor became. As though she’d deliberately disappointed him at every turn.
She blinked to focus on the winding road before her. Her gut clenched at the memories. Her face flushed, and she realized her car had decided to crank into sauna mode. Her car’s heating system had no in between, it was arctic cold or equator hot. She notched the heat one space to the left and shivered. She couldn’t win.
The difference reminded her of the heat in southern Italy versus the wintry scene portrayed in the snow globe she’d begged her father for during that long-ago Phantom tour.
“That’s silly,” he’d chided with distaste. “We don’t spend money on frivolous trinkets.”
“Please, Papa. Please?”
His indulgent side finally gave in to her. “You better take care of this,” he’d warned as he paid for the item and handed it to her. “I don’t want to trip over it in our dressing room and break an ankle before tomorrow night’s show.”
“I will. I promise.” Cradling the gift, her eyes had feasted on the majestic frozen-in-time scene amidst the white confetti. The blood-red rose nearly glowed against the black background, as pretend snowflakes swirled. It was the rose the Phantom had intended to give Christine at her ultimate performance, but then dropped on the rooftop when
he discovered the woman he thought he possessed had fallen for another man. From there, the epic emotional battle ensued. She shivered again.
Soon she would have the gift from her father back. Although, she still wasn’t sure whether Logan would turn out to be the heroic viscount Raoul or, like Trevor, the Phantom.
Streetlights became more obscure. Snow began to fall. She slowed her car. She was definitely out in the suburbs—the rich suburbs.
Every half-mile offered up a new house of galactic proportions. Other driveways led back into the woods, some gated, leaving the imagination to wonder what splendors lay hidden there.
Hitting the break, she paused before a driveway exactly like the three before it, with a black gate and pavement that disappeared into the wooded lot. The gate stood open, beckoning her. She blinked, checking the address. Gold-plated numerals on one of two stone pillars read 12957. This was it. She gulped and steered into the entrance.
Thank goodness for the lights lining the pavement. Without them she’d get lost back here. As she followed the dips and turns, she caught sight of a colossal house. It looked like an Aspen ski resort. Stone and wood came together in elegant construction imparting an aged feel despite the huge modern windows. She counted six chimneys sprouting from the roofline. Yellow light poured out through tall windows, illuminating the forest and dormant landscaping around the house.
She caught a gasp. “He lives in a castle.”
Why am I surprised?
Nervous, she pulled her car under the covered portico on the right. Snowflakes caught the glow of exterior sconces reminiscent of horse-and-carriage gas lights. The tiny flakes drifted around her like glitter, lending a fantastical feel to the scene.
I am so far out of my league.
She felt painfully displaced, like she needed permission to tread the flagstone path leading to the front entrance.
Two enormous windows flanked the front door. Through them she saw lights blinking on his cinder-block-sized Stone Security Elite System, alerting him to her arrival. Her heartbeat calmed a little. His home might be the most impenetrable fortress she could find. In spite of all the windows. Any thief or intruder would see evidence of his security system and run for the hills. Or so she hoped.
