One Sizzling Night

by Jo Leigh

  When he returned, Sam was perched on the end of the bed in her floaty wide-legged pants. She didn’t pay any attention to his mop-up.

  “Kensey doesn’t know I’m here,” Sam said.

  “Be careful of her. I know you trust Patterson, but he probably doesn’t know what she’s up to, either.”

  “Yes, I do trust Neil. And he believes Kensey’s about to get in over her head and isn’t thinking clearly.”

  “She seemed pretty goddamn assured last night.”

  “I gather she did something to piss you off, but that’s probably because she’s desperate.” Sam studied him. “Though you can’t be that pissed. You almost pulled the door off the hinges trying to get to her a minute ago.”

  “It’s just reflex,” he muttered.

  “Whatever you say, hotshot.” Sam shrugged. “I can’t tell you much, but I do know that there’s a good possibility Holstrom has a collection of stolen artwork at his estate that has tighter security than my lab. Not just art, either. We’re talking Mona Lisa art. Masterpieces that should be in museums. Rembrandt, Matisse, Degas. No one has ever been able to prove that he’s got them, and that’s what Kensey is trying to do.”

  Logan shook his head. Sam could be absentminded. And she was what someone might call dense at times, but overall she was crazy smart, so what the hell? “Do you hear what you’re saying? It’s possible Holstrom, not just any Joe Blow, but billionaire Ian Holstrom is in possession of stolen artwork. No one has ever been able to prove it. But Kensey is gonna charge in and do that all by herself?”

  “Pretty much,” Sam said, nodding. “So you see why she needs our help.”

  “Jesus.” Logan scrubbed his face. “I’m going to wake up any minute and all this nightmare bullshit is going to disappear.”

  “Nope. I don’t think so. Not unless you agree to help.”

  He watched her take a sip of her Pliny. Most of his had been soaked up by a towel. It pissed him off all over again. “She told me she’s trying to save some mysterious person who’s in danger. She can’t even keep her story straight.”

  Sam shook her head, her red hair flowing over her shoulders, her gaze bright with intent. “That’s not true. From what Neil told me, I’m guessing an innocent person is being accused of stealing an important piece. That’s grand larceny on an epic scale. And that’s why Kensey has to prove that Holstrom has it.”

  “Shit. She’s just the kind of idiot who would try something that stupid. How does she even know that Holstrom—no. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.” He stretched his stiff neck muscles. “If I were you, I’d try to talk her out of it. If you can’t, then walk away, because whether Holstrom is guilty or not, he has the kind of money and power to make sure anyone involved with Kensey is going to pay dearly.

  “Hell, I’ll probably end up in jail just for sharing the apartment with her. And may I just compliment you and Neil and your friend Kensey for making it nearly impossible for me to walk into my meeting today without prejudice.”

  “You need prejudice. He’s a horrible thief.”

  “Allegedly.”

  “I think even Neil believes Holstrom is dirty.”

  “Then he should call the police.” Logan didn’t blame Sam. He understood she felt she owed Neil, but she wasn’t thinking clearly herself. “Look, if I knew Holstrom was crooked, then yeah, I’d take a step back. But since that remains an unknown, his money can help a lot of people. So right now, I don’t care who signs the checks. I care about my company, and the good it can do.”

  “Huh.” Sam stared at him with the head tilt he hated. “I get it. I do. Your dream is hugely important and of course you’re entitled to do what you like. But Neil’s going to help Kensey, and so am I. I’m a little disappointed that you aren’t helping, too.”

  “That’s just perfect. Icing on the cake. Now that woman is coming between you and me.”

  “She’s not. Your decisions are based on something I don’t know about, so I’m absolutely not judging you.”

  “You just said—”

  “Fine. I’m judging you a little. But only because you’re my hero. That’s not your problem, either.”

  “That’s nice, Sam. I mean it. But I missed that mark by a mile.” He cleared his throat, wishing he’d gotten another beer. “Out of curiosity, has she tried calling the police? Seems like that would be something they’d be interested in.”

  “Not without proof. Like you said, it’s Ian Holstrom.” Sam frowned. “I talked to Kensey a few times before I met her in person, and she’s not an idiot or stupid. How do you know you’re not the one who’s wrong?”

  “Oh, so now you don’t trust me, either. Jesus, Sam.”

  “I never—”

  “You know what, it’s fine. I basically disappeared for ten years. That’s a long time, and we’ve both changed. It hasn’t been easy to be my friend. Hell, when I finally did become a civilian...” He exhaled, needing to get his bearings. He wasn’t used to this kind of talk. “That first year was messed up. I—”

  “Logan. Stop. Please.”

  “No, I’m just saying I haven’t given you a lot to go on. We’ve revisited the old days, but I don’t think we’ve caught up. The truth is I’ve done plenty of things I didn’t agree with, for people I didn’t like. Because it was my job.”

  He turned away, finding it hard to meet Sam’s eyes. They’d never discussed the mission that had motivated his decision to leave the CIA, and they never would. Never could. It didn’t matter. All his skills, all the superior training he’d received had failed him that day and he’d learned to live with it. But he could make up for it now.

  “I need Holstrom’s money,” he said. “But the truth is, I could get money elsewhere. Holstrom has corporate and government contacts it would take me years to make on my own. But as a subcontractor, I’ll be granted credibility just for being under Holstrom’s umbrella.

  “I know what good I can do with it. So don’t ask me to join in Kensey’s scheme. A lot’s at stake and there are repercussions to everything, Sam. Everything.”

  Sam got up, walked over to him and threw her arms around his neck. He jerked in surprise first, then held on tight to her, too. They didn’t say anything for a long while, and he was glad of it because it gave his racing heart a chance to slow down.

  “I’m sorry if you think I don’t believe in you,” Sam said, pulling back to look into his eyes. “I do. You’re a superhero, and always have been. And you’re my friend. So knock him dead, Logan. Get all the money you need from him to make your company great.”

  “Good advice. Now go back to your booth and shake up that place. And try not to worry about Kensey. Holstrom’s place must be a fortress. She’ll never even get inside.”

  Sam kissed him on the cheek, then headed for the door. “Kensey won’t have to break in,” she said, looking back with a small smile. “She has a dinner date with Holstrom tonight. At his place.”

  * * *

  “I ADMIRE YOUR work ethic,” Holstrom said, watching Logan like a hawk, ready to pounce as soon as Logan missed his footing. “So what is it exactly that you think I can do for you by subcontracting your company?”

  “I think we both know the answer to that.” They were ten minutes into the meeting. It felt more like an hour. “The real question is what I can do for you. Besides solidify your presence on foreign soil.”

  Holstrom’s slow patronizing smile told Logan that he had about three seconds to show he wasn’t bluffing. “Money, you have. But that’s not all you want. I can make you look good. Show everyone you’re the sort of patriot the public just loves to place on a pedestal.

  “Not only will you get the kind of publicity that makes for big awards ceremonies, but I’m also involved with three different international veterans’ organizations, and I’ll make sure you’re on eac
h board of directors. All without you having to do much more than pose for the covers of the American Legion Magazine, circulation 2,284,729. VFW Magazine, circulation 1,264,347, Family, circulation 501,543, Airman, 500,000, G.I. Jobs, 360,000. I can go on.”

  “I’m sure you can, Mr. McCabe. How much money will this venture of yours cost?”

  Logan had no qualms when he doubled his already inflated fees. Holstrom didn’t even look too surprised. If he had reacted negatively, Logan wouldn’t have cared. No way this egotistical asshole was going to talk him down, not when Logan was dangling a very important missing piece in Holstrom’s portfolio.

  Barney had given Logan a lot to go on with Holstrom, but Logan had done some poking around himself. The goodwill of the armed forces was important to the man, and there was no way Holstrom hadn’t figured out Logan’s CIA connections. Logan may not have the lesser government contacts he needed to expand, but he did have access to the highest echelons of power. In fact, he’d thrown out his entire playbook the moment he’d seen Holstrom. He really disliked the sleazy bastard.

  Every time he opened his mouth it reminded Logan of those obscene words the prick had said about Kensey. Not that Logan was changing his mind about helping her. But just imagining her entering the lion’s den tonight made it very easy to push hard and take no prisoners. Manipulating Holstrom was a piece of cake, now that Logan knew what to look for. And if or when Holstrom offered him the contract, Logan didn’t have to take it.

  “If I were to bring you into the fold, I would want you only for foreign security business. Nothing domestic.”

  “Well, that’s a problem,” Logan said, lounging back in the leather guest chair and noting the irritation in the man’s face. “Granted, most of the vets I employ excel at operations on foreign soil. But not all of them want to go back to the Middle East or be sent to South America, certainly not for any extended periods of time. I’ll need the ability to offer them some assignments right here at home.”

  Holstrom tightened his mouth but he didn’t say anything. Yesterday Logan would’ve been pleased with the grudging admiration in the man’s eye. Today he didn’t give a shit what Holstrom thought of him or his spiel.

  Goddamn Kensey. Though he should thank her. This new attitude was working in his favor.

  They went back and forth for another hour, and by the time Holstrom’s lackey du jour had come in twice to remind his boss he had other obligations, Logan had everything but the signed papers. It was still difficult to shake the man’s hand.

  As soon as he got out of Holstrom’s booth, he called his sister. He’d asked her to dig deep, using every connection she had to find out more about Holstrom and his relationship with the art world.

  He’d been so busy doing the same for Kensey, he’d almost been late to his meeting. But more and more pieces of a puzzle he hadn’t known how to solve were becoming clear.

  Her stellar reputation identifying forgeries had been confirmed in enough ways that Logan was convinced it was true. And so were her boarding school years. In fact, there were a lot more avenues to follow once he was back at the apartment.

  He wasn’t about to let anyone pull his strings again. But now that he’d been dragged into this mess, he was determined to discover the truth about the woman and her mission. He rarely used his own special resources. The Big Guns, as Lisa called them. Still, it was nice to have friends in the army and the CIA. He had a few more in the NSA, but something told him not to invite anyone there to start probing into Kensey’s life.

  Damn her. Why couldn’t he shake this ridiculous need to protect her?

  16

  KENSEY STARED AT her reflection and saw a stranger. How had she gotten here? What on earth was she doing?

  Ian Holstrom expected to have sex with her. Because she’d made him believe it was what she wanted, too. She doubted very much that he was the kind of man to live by the “no means no” rule. Or any rules, for that matter.

  She closed her eyes and pictured what her father would look like behind bars. Each time she imagined him there, which was far too often, it was a little bit worse. She may not succeed with her plan, but if he was in prison, at least she’d be able to go see him.

  It wasn’t as if she loved him. She didn’t know him. The father she’d loved would never have walked out on her. So tonight she’d better think things through before Holstrom’s car arrived. Was all this worth pleasing the idea of a father? One who would explain everything. Who would have the best reason ever for abandoning his daughter? Not that she believed in fairy tales.

  But she desperately wanted to believe in the one.

  Make that two. In the second tale, Logan would forgive her, and they’d get together in New York when all of this was over. She’d cook dinner for them. Or they’d meet at the coffee bar down the street from her office. And they’d make out on a bench in Central Park, alarming the Tai Chi gang and the pigeons.

  Yep. That was the dream. In reality, she might find herself in a hell of a lot of trouble tonight.

  Maybe she should just tell Holstrom straight out that she had black belts in two different martial arts. But that wouldn’t get her into the secret room. No, she’d have to play her part, and play it well.

  She checked the time. The car wouldn’t arrive for an hour and a half. Holstrom called it a car, but that was just billionaire speak for limo. Like the mansions in Newport being called cottages. She knew from her research that he lived on a large estate. Even though it might have raised some red flags, she should have insisted on taking a cab. But she wasn’t fooling herself either. Taxi or not, he could make it difficult for her to leave before he collected on her unspoken promise.

  Nothing about Holstrom led her to believe he was a gentleman when it came to women. But if he pushed too hard, well, she had a few tricks up her sleeve.

  Anyway, knowing Neil, he’d probably be tracking her movements from the moment she stepped outside the apartment door. Even if she were taken to a place other than Holstrom’s residence, she could always send out a text SOS. It sounded gross, but she knew a woman who had gotten out of a frightening situation by barfing on her attacker’s shoes. That maneuver might shut things down real quick. And she wouldn’t have to physically hurt him.

  She slipped her robe on over her underwear and took three outfits from the closet. They were the final contenders and she laid them on her bed. Taking a few steps back, she stared at each one, imagining what it would be like for him to see her for the first time.

  Of course she imagined Logan first. That was a recurring theme. She’d try to focus on Ian Holstrom, but Logan always barged in on her thoughts. It was taking a lot of numbing concentration to stay on point.

  The first outfit was a cream-colored formfitting dress with dolman sleeve and an off-the-shoulder neckline. But it was tight all the way down to the hem past her knees. If things got rough, she’d have a difficult time.

  Next was a sheer, floral-print silk charmeuse blouse with skinny pants. Wearing an outfit like that, she’d have no problem defending herself, but even with a flesh-colored tank, the see-through fabric made it look as though she was naked underneath. It was very sexy, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to be that obvious.

  The last choice was the simplest: a pale pink cashmere pullover hemmed at the waist with suede skinny pants.

  All three had pluses and minuses, but she’d go with the pullover, and save the others for another time. To wear for someone she wanted to be with.

  Damn, why did she have to keep torturing herself by thinking about Logan?

  His meeting would be over by now. She wondered if he’d gotten the contract. She wouldn’t ask even if she had the opportunity.

  She needed to stay focused on tonight, mentally prepare herself for any possible outcome. To that end, she’d found a well-reviewed beauty salon not too far from the apartment. S
he’d had her hair done, a spa mani-pedi and a half-hour chair massage.

  None of which had relaxed her for more than ten minutes, not even the massage. Hardly a surprise, considering she’d used the time to think about Logan. And fret over how badly she’d bungled things with him last night.

  Shaking her head, she picked up her cell phone and checked it for the tenth time. It was her only ticket to taking the pictures she needed, that is, if her nerves didn’t do her in first. She doubted Holstrom would welcome a selfie with her and the stolen Degas.

  A noise from the living room stilled her. She’d heard Logan come home about ten minutes ago, and she was reasonably sure he’d either go out again or stay in his room until she’d left. Luckily, she had no need to leave her bedroom until the car arrived.

  The knock on her door set her heart racing. Guilt washed through her, as if she’d robbed the Met or something.

  The second she opened the door he barged right past her.

  “Okay,” he said, his voice as stern as a ruler across knuckles. “This is how we’re going to play it.”

  Without so much as a glance at her, he dropped a paper bag on the bed, next to her clothes. When he finally turned toward her, he had clasped his hands behind his back and stood tall, his feet shoulder length apart. For the first time she could truly see the military in him.

  He looked hot as hell. Damn him.

  “Play what?” she asked, matching his curtness. “What are you even doing here?”

  He didn’t answer her immediately, which pissed her off.

  “Well?” she asked at the same time he said, “Your dinner with Holstrom.”

  Something new ignited inside her. And it wasn’t lust. There was only one way Logan could know about her dinner. Neil had gone behind her back.

  The betrayal hit deep and hard. The only man she’d ever truly trusted since her father had deserted her was Neil. And he’d done what she’d very clearly asked him not to. She wished Logan would leave. She wished she’d never come to Boston. She should have let her father do whatever the hell he wanted, and forgotten about him the way he’d forgotten about her.