One Sizzling Night

by Jo Leigh

“Well, shit,” he said, more to himself than to her.

  In fact, she looked surprised when he approached, then wrapped her in his arms. He was surprised, too.

  She curled into him, burying her face against his chest.

  All he did was rub her back. As the seconds turned to minutes, he felt her muscles relax beneath his palm. Her breathing became steadier.

  “I don’t have a clue what to do about you,” he whispered. “I know better than to let my emotions get the best of me. But something tells me you just might be telling the truth. Should I believe you, Kensey?”

  She looked up at him. Her eyes were damp. Little crystals had formed on her long dark lashes. “I’m telling you the truth. As much as I can. So yes, you can believe me. But frankly, you’d probably be doing yourself a big favor by staying clear of me.”

  Well, he had to give her points for honesty. Unless she was playing him. Goddamn it. He wasn’t this wishy-washy guy. “My sister drives me nuts trying to get me to relax. Try new things. Stop being such a damn workaholic. I think this might meet with her approval.”

  Kensey smiled up at him. “She sounds great.”

  “She is. And, I should mention, that while she’s one of the most intuitive women I’ve ever known, she got herself into deep, deep trouble believing in someone she shouldn’t have.”

  “Ah.” She sighed. “A cautionary tale.”

  “For both of us.” He brushed the stray wisps of hair off her face. “There’s no sure way to know someone else’s heart. Their true motives. All we have is our instincts. I hope you’re listening to your inner voice. Mine is telling me to keep an open mind.”

  Kensey briefly closed her eyes. “Honestly, I’m not sure anymore. Things have gotten so complicated.”

  He shrugged. “Sometimes it’s tricky.”

  Then he kissed her.

  She whimpered. He doubted it was because the kiss was all that good. Although, the more he tasted her, felt her tongue tease him before she pushed his back—good fell ridiculously short when it came to describing how she made him feel. It seemed impossible they’d been through so much in one night. Yet they’d arrived here.

  So maybe it was the truth. All of it.

  Or lies. All of it.

  Hard to believe that he’d fall for anyone he couldn’t read.

  When she pulled back, she held him still, one hand on his neck, the other framing the left side of his face. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I wish this was a vacation. That I could sleep through the night and wake up feeling refreshed. That we could plot out all the fun things to do in Boston. Did you know they have food tours?”

  “Wait. You mean there are more exciting things in Boston than this apartment?”

  “Yep. Lots. No disrespect intended.”

  “I’ll speak for Sam and tell you none taken. But we don’t actually have to stand here all night. There are options.”

  She smiled. “Yes. There are.”

  He moved to kiss her again, and she let him, but when he started guiding her toward the bedroom, she stopped him.

  “What’s wrong?” Looking down at her, he could see the worry in her eyes. A place deep inside his gut sent up a flare.

  “You won’t say anything about me to Holstrom tomorrow, will you?” she whispered, with the same coy look she’d used on Holstrom an hour ago. For Logan’s benefit, she threw in the soft doe eyes.

  It wasn’t just one flare now. His brain was on red alert and waiting for a KO punch. He stepped back. “That trust thing you asked me for? Remember that? My word is good. You don’t need to bat your eyelashes. Or offer to trade favors with me.”

  She flinched. “No, I wasn’t—you don’t understand—”

  “Oh, but I do. You can’t tell me jack shit but I’m supposed to trust you. And keep my mouth shut.” He shook his head, astonished that even now he wanted to rationalize his way back to her bed. Jesus. She was still playing him and he kept being the idiot who let her. “I’ve made mistakes in my life, but this one just might end up in the top five. Now I’m going to ask you a question, and I swear to God, don’t even think about lying...”

  “I won’t.” Her voice had gone small and soft. She looked miserable, but she could be thinking about the weather for all he could tell.

  “Whatever the hell you have going on with Holstrom, will it impact the contract I’m trying to get?”

  He knew the answer the second her shoulders slumped. If she tried to lie, he’d know it.

  “It might,” she said. “It’s not likely, but it might.”

  He’d been shot before. It felt a lot like this. “I hope that whoever this person is that you’re bringing in from the cold is worth every broken soldier who could have been helped by my company. Do you know the suicide rate for ex-military? No? Look it up.”

  He went to the kitchen and got himself a couple of Plinys and he didn’t even slam the fridge door. Without looking back, he made it to his bedroom. He shut that one quietly, too. But he itched to knock the shit out of something.

  He should have known.

  Black ops for how long, and this woman turned him into an asset with one little towel. Yeah, so this wasn’t going to influence his meeting tomorrow at all.

  Fuck.

  * * *

  SHE’D WOKEN UP with a headache that wouldn’t quit, and a heartache that was a hundred times worse.

  It wasn’t that she was in love with Logan. There hadn’t been time for that. But he was in the wheelhouse. Dead center, in fact. But that was one future she’d never see. It still hurt to think he believed she would offer sex for his silence.

  But then, why shouldn’t he? He’d watched her brazenly flirt with Holstrom.

  Damn, she couldn’t afford this. Lingering over the mistakes she’d made, and then throwing out scenario after scenario about how to fix it. Always coming up empty.

  She’d been up for a while. Long enough to make herself a pot of coffee and some dry toast before Logan entered the picture. With only half a pot left, she wasn’t going to be any more prepared to talk to Neil. Although she’d probably find a way to alienate him, as well.

  As soon as she was safe in her bedroom again, she said, “Call Neil Patterson.”

  A moment later, there he was, and just seeing her boss made her feel marginally better. He looked wide awake, already dressed in a gray suit, with that silk tie he’d bought in Milan.

  “You look like hell,” he said.

  “I feel like it, too.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Don’t look so worried.” She stifled a yawn. “I’m not planning on doing anything more foolish.”

  “More foolish? I think you’d better start at the beginning.”

  Clearly she should have finished the coffee before she called him. “I’ve got a date with Holstrom tonight,” she said. “Dinner at his home.”

  “What happened to waiting until the final night?”

  “He’s leaving for China, but mostly, he asked me. I don’t have any reason to believe he’d ask me on Friday. So, this is the shot I’ve got.”

  Brow furrowed, Neil didn’t look convinced. Finally he said, “I don’t like it.”

  “Frankly, I don’t either. But I’m not backing out now.” She looked down, and what she wouldn’t give for a neck rub. “Sorry if I sounded curt.”

  “You’re fine,” he said. “But how about you tell me what’s really going on?”

  “The date’s not enough?”

  Neil’s eyebrows rose.

  Kensey sighed. “I said something stupid to Logan. It’s got nothing to do with the plan.”

  “Which plan would that be? The one where you try to break into Holstrom’s secret room? Because that’s not going to happen. It’s a fortress.”

  “
Actually, I plan on having him open the door for me.”

  Neil closed his eyes for several long seconds. “I don’t even want to know what you promised him for that privilege. What the hell was I thinking, suggesting you seduce that snake?”

  “I’ve alluded. Not promised.”

  “He’ll take first, answer questions later.”

  “I don’t think you realize how gigantic his ego is.”

  “Me?” Neil leaned forward. “I don’t know what about my ex–business partner?”

  “You said yourself you didn’t know him anymore.”

  “Trust me. The man’s character was dubious back then, and I guarantee you success hasn’t changed him into a saint. He’s a louse, and he doesn’t care about anything but his possessions.”

  “Which is why he won’t—”

  “Stop. Just stop. First of all, your hands are shaking.”

  “I’m not saying I’m not nervous. By tonight I’ll have it together. You’ve seen me under pressure.”

  “Regardless, you’re jumping the gun. Look, my PI is close to breaking Seymour into a pliant, cooperative witness. After Seymour met with the insurance adjuster, Phil followed him to a parking lot in Queens where he met with Detective Brown. Phil couldn’t hear them, but he’s got pictures and video. They argued, and Seymour was about ready to stroke out.

  “Tonight, Phil’s going to suggest that Seymour turn on Brown before it’s too late. Seymour would not do well in prison, and Phil will make sure he believes that’s only moments away. Do you see why the risk you’re taking is nuts?”

  Kensey swallowed. It was so tempting to back out. “I can’t let this opportunity pass. I’m positive Holstrom has more pieces than the Degas. For all we know Rembrandt’s Sea of Galilee, or Vermeer’s Concert are in his private gallery. I can take pictures of everything.”

  “You’re positive, huh?”

  “Yes.” She drew herself up straighter when she realized just how neatly she’d stepped into Neil’s trap. Of course she couldn’t be positive. “A man with that ego isn’t going to waste the opportunity to show someone like me his treasure. He thinks I want a job, and that my ethics could be shaky.”

  “You’ll end up in prison,” Neil said. “Will it be worth it?”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, boss.”

  “Do something for me.”

  A week ago she would have said, sure. Anything. But so much in her life had changed in just five short days. How was that possible?

  “What’s that?” she asked with caution.

  “At the very least, would you please ask Logan and Sam for help? They’re experts at this kind of thing, and you’re not even close.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I will not involve them. And that’s all I’ll say about the matter.”

  His mouth opened, but he didn’t speak. Not for a while. “Call me before you go, all right? Maybe Phil will have turned Seymour in by then.”

  She managed to nod before Neil disconnected.

  At least she hadn’t cried. That had to count for something.

  15

  LOGAN HAD HEARD her in the kitchen. Heard her shut her bedroom door. She probably hadn’t gotten any more sleep than he’d managed. Not that he gave a shit. In fact, he hoped she’d lain awake worrying about what he might tell Holstrom.

  To say he’d had a miserable night was an understatement. He tried to remember the last time he’d let such pure rage have its way with him. Definitely before he’d made it into special ops. One of the most important lessons he’d learned early and well was that anger got people killed. Over the years, he’d learned how to modify his reactions. Of course he still got angry, but a combination of mindfulness and meditation gave him the ability to emotionally disengage. Observe the situation from the outside.

  He’d used every technique in the book last night, but he’d wasted his time. He kept hearing her plead with him to keep her secret from Holstrom.

  Each time the words rose to the surface, or he closed his eyes and remembered that look on her face, it caught him in a vortex of fury. It didn’t matter that they hadn’t known each other very long, he’d given her his word. Maybe the people Kensey hung out with made a habit of lying to her, but even that wasn’t a good enough excuse.

  Mostly, though, he was pissed off that she’d played him. All the way up until last night. Even after he’d caught her in the middle of whatever ruse she was involved in. He’d acted like a rookie. Worse. Like an idiot.

  Right before his meeting with Holstrom.

  Christ. After he’d told her all about his hopes and dreams. Although why she’d want to sabotage his efforts...

  She hadn’t, though. Stupidity aside, he was clear on that. He’d had a lot of time to think during the night. Kensey hadn’t really offered anything for his silence. His anger had more to do with how she’d behaved with Holstrom.

  Logan closed his eyes for a moment. Man, it had been tough to watch.

  As far as her endgame, he couldn’t come up with anything that made sense. Even last night, after he’d confronted her, she could have waited until they were having sex or right after, when he was pliable as hell before she asked for reassurance.

  That would’ve been a smarter play. And Kensey was a smart woman.

  The truth was simple and hard to take. Logan was just collateral damage. Talk about irony. It was the main reason he’d decided to leave the CIA. He’d seen too many innocents who’d been at the wrong place at the wrong time, their deaths summarized by a sad shake of the head and a rubber stamp. And he couldn’t be a part of it anymore. Not even for the greater good.

  He’d liked Kensey. More than he’d liked anyone in years. From that first night, she’d hooked him and reeled him in. Manipulated him until he cared.

  Any other woman and he’d have cut his losses and moved on. But he still had half an ear out for her footsteps in the other room. The damn apartment was completely soundproof, so how messed up was that?

  He took another swig of his emergency Red Bull. He would’ve preferred coffee, and he’d have some later. He needed the caffeine to prepare for his meeting. Barney’s coaching had left Logan with some minor qualms about Holstrom, none of which were deal breakers. After he’d overheard what the bastard said about Kensey, Logan was halfway to telling Holstrom to forget it.

  Which might make him feel better, but wasn’t going to help many vets.

  So Holstrom was a dick. It wasn’t as if Logan hadn’t worked with his fair share of them. He still wanted to go back to basic training and deck Sergeant Wycofsky. That asshole had been nothing but a bully. How he’d treated the fresh recruits would be illegal in any other circumstance.

  Sort of how Holstrom was treating Kensey.

  Shit. Logan realized he hadn’t told her. He didn’t owe her a damn thing, and if she wanted to jump in the shark tank, that was her problem. But he should’ve said something about what he’d overheard.

  He shoved thoughts of her aside and got out of bed. He wanted to make himself a pot of coffee, but he didn’t want to cross paths with her.

  He stopped. What the hell was he thinking? He wasn’t about to tiptoe through the last couple of days. If she had a problem with that? Tough.

  As he settled down with his morning cereal and coffee, he reviewed his talking points for the meeting. Every time he found himself thinking of Kensey, or worse, coming up with reasons not to meet with Holstrom, he pulled himself back together.

  After the second hour, he barely thought of her anymore. Not even to wonder if she was hiding in her room. He doubted it. More likely she was out somewhere, stirring up more trouble.

  Not ten minutes later, the doorbell surprised him. He glanced at the digital peephole viewer and immediately opened the door. “What a
re you doing here?”

  “Now that’s the kind of welcome that makes a person feel all warm and fuzzy,” Sam said, stepping into the foyer. “I’m glad I caught you.”

  She was supposed to be at the exhibition hall getting ready to wow the crowd with her newest invention. She certainly looked dressed for the part. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Don’t you have somewhere important to be? Like showing off at your booth?”

  She smiled as she walked past him. “It’s pretty funny when the big suits come by. They all nod as if they know what I’m talking about, but an hour later their tech guys ride to the rescue.” She went straight to the kitchen and stared at the coffeepot.

  “How old is that coffee?”

  “A couple hours, give or take. I can make a fresh—”

  “That’s okay. I’ll take a Pliny.”

  “Seriously?” He glanced at his watch. It was ten-thirty.

  “One beer won’t kill me.”

  Something prickled the back of his neck. Screw it. He fetched them both bottles. His meeting wasn’t for a while. “What’s going on, Sam?”

  She took the beer, and instead of sitting down in the living room, she led him to his bedroom. When the door was shut behind him, he turned again to his friend.

  Sam drew in a deep breath. “I think Kensey might be in trouble.”

  Every muscle in Logan’s body tensed as he immediately went into fight-or-flight response. He grabbed the doorknob.

  “Whoa. Hold on,” Sam said, catching his arm. “Not right this instant.” She pulled him away from the door. “I meant tonight.”

  “Shit, Sam. I hear the word trouble from you, and I don’t know what to think.” He took a moment to settle down. “But if this is Kensey’s tactic to get me to help her, it’s not gonna happen. She made her bed. I’m not interested in who she sleeps with in it.”

  Sam looked down at the area rug, and Logan’s gaze followed. His bottle of Pliny was by his feet, sideways, the beer still gurgling out.

  He picked it up, then went to the bathroom. Not just to get a towel, but to save some face. He hadn’t realized that he’d cleared his dominant hand in preparation for pulling out his weapon.