CHAPTER 1

In a darkened room twenty feet beneath his office building, Logan Stone stood before an elite

panel of observers. Anticipation coursed through him. The time had come to unveil his masterpiece.

“For security reasons, I ask you to remain behind the crimson ropes,” Logan instructed.
Intrigue shone on the faces of the guests crowding the edges of the display room. Their

breathless pause shot electricity through his veins.

“Allison, if you will.” Logan gestured to the woman who’d been the object of his fascination

for almost two years. As a contractor for the military and other high-level government operations,
Allison Dupree was the whole package, brains and beauty, with the connections he needed to obtain a
coveted military contract. They’d worked in the same circles and run into each other at conventions
for a while, so he knew she was the woman for the job—though, he was interested in more than her
training and demonstration abilities.

So he’d made her an offer she couldn’t refuse. And she’d accepted. She’d learned the technical

aspects of his system quickly, proving herself invaluable over the past six weeks. Preorders and
projected sales had topped his goal, edging toward the billion-dollar mark. The prestige he strove
for, obtaining a top-intel government contract, was finally in his sights.

“My pleasure, Mr. Stone.” Allison’s lips curved with her signature smile. An alluring

combination of buttoned-up formality and subtle sexuality that made his mouth go dry. She took her
place at the center of the room. She tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulders, awaiting his cue
to start the show.

Dim light caressed her face. His pulse thrummed. His fingers twitched with the need to run his

fingertips along the soft skin of her bare shoulder, press his lips against her neck—

Damn . Would this hyper-awareness of her ever fade?
Logan cleared his throat. “In real-time, my new security technology requires a fraction of a

second to perform the functions you’re about to see. I’ve slowed the system’s response time to give
you a clearer idea of this state-of-the-art integration can do.”

Sliding the remote control device from his suit pocket, he pressed the blue button. A flat-screen

TV lowered from the ceiling.

“The latest Stone Security Elite Edition combines the most advanced security technologies

available, in the most powerful singular protection device on the market. Let’s start with facial
recognition.”

A green laser beam shot from the wall, fanning over Allison. All heads turned to the overhead

TV as a high-def computer sketched her portrait in 3D like a topography map. But he couldn’t take his
eyes off Allison. He tapped his finger against the remote, annoyed by a spike of jealousy that this
computer had more intimate contact with her body than he did.

For now .
Reigning in his focus, he pressed another button and a second flat-screen lowered beside the

first. “Next, we have thermal imaging.”

The security software read Allison’s body temperature. He wondered how the thermal imaging

would register if he slid his hand down the arch of her back and whispered exactly what he wished
they were doing right now.

The practice runs they’d performed earlier today had proven an excruciating test of his self-

control. He still ached to explore her red-hot zones, the way he had during their one-night affair two
months ago. Right before he’d made her the job offer. A sizzling night he was dying to repeat. Except
she neatly avoided any discussion of the topic, no matter how subtly he mentioned it. She skirted his
advances, ignored his hints, acting as if their night of phenomenal sex never happened. He couldn’t
forget so easily. They were amazing together. He just needed her to admit it. And give in to him. He’d
fantasized about dozens of ways he’d like to convince her.

He blew out a controlled breath and continued. “We’ve also incorporated retinal scans,

fingerprint analysis, voice recognition software, and security password clearance.”

Allison modeled each component like a pro. Each demonstration was displayed on a different

flat-screen.

He turned to find his audience rapt. “Now I want to show how the sequences work together to

create the most advanced security programming to date.” Scanning the crowd, he chose the scientist
from CERN to open a dialogue. “Dr. Carier, thank you for coming all the way from Switzerland for
this demonstration. As a member of the top scientific communities in the world, I imagine you
understand the value of impenetrable security.”

The scientist nodded. “We worry about the details of any project leaking out prematurely.

There have been three occurrences recently with the security we have now.”

“That’s three too many. How would like a system guaranteeing zero thefts?”
Dr. Cartier’s gaze sharpened. “I’m listening, Mr. Stone.”
On a flat tabletop near Allison’s hip, the edges of a large vertical rectangle began to glow, the

shape resembling an elongated computer screen. A 3D puzzle shimmered into existence. Allison’s
graceful hands touched the 3D images, moving them sequentially until they locked into place. The
technology displayed the shapes so viewers on all sides could watch her movements.

The puzzle pieces clicked, and a mechanized female voice intoned, “Good morning. Please

state your name.”

“Allison Dupree.”
The disembodied voice responded, “I am authorizing access to files on this terminal…”

Ellipses flashed as the system processed Allison’s information on multiple levels. Guests watched in
silence until the computer spoke to her again in surround sound. “Hello, Ms. Dupree. Would you like
to retrieve your files, or do you wish to begin a new project?”

“Upload the most current file.”
The files loaded onto the see-through screen before the audience could blink. An icon flashed

signaling completion. “Your files are ready for viewing.”

Whispers flew amongst the guests. A representative from the CIA spoke up. “What happens

when someone other than Allison tries to access the files?”

Logan was ready with the answer. “Think of my security measures as an elaborate sign-in

platform linked to your existing IT system.” He paced as he explained. “Instead of the typical ‘user
name and password,’ you connect each piece of the puzzle in a certain order you specify. Now, even
if someone else discovers the sequence to unlock your data, the Invisi-Screen scans and reads your
unique bio-imprint as you move the objects. If I press the image after Allison…”

Logan tapped the 3D image. The viewer went black then reverted to the original puzzle pieces

floating independently. “As we speak, the system has closed access to her files. The signal sends an
alert notifying the program of an abnormality.”

“What happens to the files now?” Cardinal Montague from the Vatican asked, his voice raspy

with age. “Will important data be lost…how do you say, in cyberspace?”

“I’ll let Allison show you.”
Allison’s green eyes sparkled with excitement. It sent a tingle up his spine that she appreciated

the complexities of the system as much as he did. Her admiration meant a lot, on a personal level. It
went both ways. She’d taken it upon herself to use her gift with languages to translate the voice-
activated components into French, Italian, Spanish and German, which might’ve taken his company
months to create. This international coalition of observers was only possible at this point because of
her.

“The system recognizes and responds to my voice,” Allison explained. “It will bring up the

puzzle for me to reconstruct.” She went through the motions as she spoke. “After the bio-scans
reanalyze my fingerprints and the vein pattern in my palm, my files reappear intact.”

A chairman from the International Monetary Fund scoffed. “Suppose someone’s holding a gun

to her head?”

Logan held back a grin. This capability he’d personally engineered, drawing from his

experiences in espionage as a former commander of a U.S. Special Forces team.

“Remember the retinal scans, facial recognition and thermal imaging software? My system goes

on to pinpoint signs of distress within those parameters, like pupil dilation, heart rate elevation,
changes in core body temperature…watch.”

Privately, Logan had looked forward to this part of the demonstration most. Coming up behind

Allison, he slid his arm around her waist and drew her back against his chest. His body went on high
sexual alert. What he would give to have Allison to himself in the dark room with nothing but clothes
separating them. His hand flared across her hipbone. One fingertip found the line of her panties. He
was tempted to trace the seam downward. He forced himself to ignore his pounding lust. He drew his
hand up to cup her waist instead.

With his free hand he mimicked the shape of a gun and held it under her jaw. “Get into the

system,” he demanded, simulating a hostage situation.

She pressed the screen.
“We’re sorry,” the computerized voice stated. “Access denied.” A wide green laser swept the

room floor to ceiling. “Detecting an unauthorized entity. Image recording to defense database…”
Ellipses flashed. A red icon popped up on the Invisi-Screen . “Match: Logan Stone. Occupation:
Owner, Stone Security. Known address: Seventeen Wellspring Drive, Denver, Colorado. No weapon
detected. Description dispatched to security personnel.”

In the far corner a printer spit out a piece of paper. Releasing Allison, he retrieved the print-out

and held it up to the guests. The page displayed the picture on his diver license, along with the data
the system collected with a single laser scan.

“With terabytes dedicated to identity search engines and linked to your company’s

computerized profiles, an intruder doesn’t stand a chance.”

The panel stared unblinking. The head of Homeland Security pushed her glasses up the bridge

of her nose. “Is this system available immediately ?”

Logan resisted the urge to punch the air in a gesture of victory. “We’ve started taking orders.

The system rolls out next week.”

Questions flooded him. He took the abundant attention in stride.

Allison singled out the Louvre Museum assistant-curator, who instantly warmed to her

presence. Logan heard her speak to him in fluid French. She was one of the best investments he’d
ever made. They worked the room likes pros, independently and together.

Now if only he could get their connection to extend beyond the demonstration room and back

into the bedroom. During the six weeks he’d worked beside her, he hadn’t figured her out. Most
women wore their hearts on their sleeves. They spilled their life story after one martini at the bar, but
Allison wore a shell impossible to crack.

It drove him crazy.
She drove him crazy.
He noticed a quizzical frown form between her eyebrows, and he came to her side should she

need technical information about the system.

“Can I help answer any questions?” he offered. Allison took a few steps back. Frustration

tensed his muscles. She seemed to avoid his presence unless absolutely necessary to their work. To
stop her retreat, he placed his hand on her lower back and drew her close. “Everything okay?”

“Excuse me, Mr. Stone.”
She darted away, leaving him to stare after her at a loss. This dance they did around the

obvious irritated him. He was determined to get her alone and get some answers. “Allison—”

“Be right back,” she said over her shoulder before disappearing into the elevator at the end of

the hall.

He gritted his teeth. Why does she keep doing that?

*

Allison pulled in a deep breath, then let it out slowly.
Only six more weeks .
That’s all she had to endure before she took the eye-popping amount of money Logan had

offered for this contract job and created the life of her dreams in Paris. Leaving the U.S. and her
painful experiences behind.

She’d worked so hard for this, making personal sacrifices along the way. The notion of starting

over completely on her own terms, with no one but her controlling her fate, shimmered like a mirage
on the horizon. Freedom was so close she could almost taste it.

Unfortunately, at the moment she couldn’t think about tasting anything.
Leaning against the bathroom stall, she held her stomach until her sudden bout of queasiness

passed. This wasn’t the first time she’d felt ill out of nowhere.

The word pregnancy popped into her head. Cold chills streamed down her arms. Dizziness

overwhelmed her, as did an avalanche of fears about what would happen if she became pregnant at
this uncertain stage of her life.

Immediately, she shut out the thought. That was impossible. She and Logan had used protection.
Discounting that theory, she hoped the sinus infection that had plagued her a few weeks ago

wasn’t returning. She rarely got sick, and she didn’t need this right now. Not with back-to-back
presentations for Logan’s Elite System looming. The next six weeks would be grueling but well worth
the prize at the end. She’d leave with no strings attached and enough money to start the life she’d been
steadily aiming for the past four years.

Logan, however, was making that no-strings idea harder than she’d expected.
Magnetic confidence and raw sexuality radiated from him, weakening her resolve when he

came near. He constantly dropped hints about the night they’d made love, recreating in her mind the
passionate moments she’d spent with him. She relived the breathtaking sensuality every time. It had

been so easy— too easy—to give up her precious control to his intimate touch, his tantalizing mouth,
his hard body, and his protective strength as he’d held her in his arms.

Those memories made it difficult to keep her distance. Yet she had to stay focused. Her future,

the final release from the emotional destruction her ex-husband had left in his wake, depended on it.

Her attraction to Logan was seriously inconvenient. Possibly life-altering if she let him

consume her existence the way her ex had. She refused to repeat past mistakes. Devastation gnawed at
her, because she never wanted to consider Logan a mistake . He was one of the few good things that
had happened to her.

But nothing—not even the secret wish to see if they could build something good together—

could keep her from achieving true freedom for the first time in her life.

Focusing on what was within her control, she left the bathroom stall to run her hands under cold

water until the last of her feverishness faded. Firm in her resolution, she returned to the lower
demonstration rooms.

Several guests approached her, asking for further demonstrations. She turned to the studio

executive. “You mentioned the system’s other uses.” She maneuvered data across the Invisi-Screen .
“Not only can the system work in an office, commercial or military setting, it’s also a powerful force
for home and corporate security.”

The system Logan designed was hacker proof and, near as she could tell, impossible to

physically penetrate. She wished she’d owned something like this three years ago when she was
working a contract job in Philadelphia. It had been midnight when Trevor had shown up on her
doorstep after one of his covert ops missions to Africa, ranting about her continued disobedience,
how nothing could keep him from his wife. They’d been divorced for ten months at that point. He’d
never admitted how he’d found her, despite her efforts to remain elusive. He’d broken into her
apartment and the police barely arrived before… She shuddered. It had been a close call. Too close.

Her heart beat faster, and her throat began to close. She swayed on her feet, gripping the edge

of the table, fighting the familiar symptoms. She hated this constant anxiety, the way she jumped at
every shadow, unable to trust anyone. And knowing Trevor could appear in her life any second and
tear it apart again.

It was only a matter of time before he made good on his threats.
She swallowed hard, trying to calm herself. Soon, none of that would matter. France had

charged him with International Crimes, for reasons she didn’t want to know, and he’d never be
allowed in that country. While the charges brought against him in the U.S. were dropped, the day she
stepped off the plane in Paris she’d never have to worry about him again.

Steadying herself, she continued her mini presentation. “Let’s look at how the system can work

in a more personal setting.” She pulled up blueprints in which the system was fully integrated, with
detailed specs. “Home installation is minimally invasive, operational within five business days,
depending on square footage and option upgrades.”

Logan truly had thought of everything. Whatever nightmare scenario of a break-in she’d brought

up to him, and she’d had plenty of sleepless nights to imagine them all, he’d shown her how his
system combated each devious technique.

“With a combination of the technology you’ve seen demonstrated today, a stalker—er, burglar

—is caught before he realizes he’s detected.” She winced at her slip. No one seemed to notice.

Then she felt Logan’s powerful presence beside her. Threads of anxiety in her muscles

unknotted. Her shoulders relaxed.

Logan backed up her explanation in his deep, steady voice. “Because my system tracks the

pattern of steps, the pace, and the vital signs of an intruder outside the house, the police arrive before
he breaks in.”

“Imagine the freedom, the peace of mind,” she said wistfully, “knowing you’re completely safe.

You choose who comes and goes. You have total control.”

“And that’s why I do what I do.”
She glanced up to find Logan’s gaze fastened on her. For a moment she stood transfixed by his

rich cinnamon eyes.

“Mr. Stone?” A guest broke the trance. She dragged her gaze away, her cheeks hot. Dr. Cartier

held out his hand, and Logan shook it. “I am most impressed with this level of ingenuity. Here is my
card. I hope we will be in touch.”

“Definitely. I appreciate you traveling all this way.”
Dr. Cartier’s gray eyebrows lifted above his round-rimmed glasses. “Should you decide to

channel your efforts in the pursuit of science, contact me at CERN. I’d find a place for your talents
within the hour.”

Logan’s lips curved in a half-smile. “That’s quite an honor.”
While his skills were likely on par, she couldn’t imagine Logan surrounded by a bunch of

egghead scientists solving the space/time continuum. He was a man of action, in a state of constant
forward motion even sitting behind his desk, which he rarely did for long.

The elevator dinged and opened at the end of the hallway. The running lights along the wide

corridor revealed Rick Dunn’s bull-like frame. Her stomach did a nervous flip. Logan’s Chief
Security Officer didn’t like her, and he made no attempt to hide it. What she’d done to offend him was
a mystery, one she’d rather avoid than solve. Why make waves when she’d only be here another six
short weeks?

Rick scanned the main demonstration room, his scowl more pronounced than usual. His

shoulders looked stiff in his suit. He didn’t appear to enjoy tightly packed spaces anymore than she
did. When his eyes narrowed on her she moved away from Logan.

In this setting avoiding Rick would be too obvious. She spotted the Louvre Museum curator and

explained in French that she had someone she’d like him to meet. She steered the older man toward
Rick.

“Mr. Dunn,” she said brightly, “this is Monsignor Olevette, from the Louvre. In Paris.”
“I know my geography,” he muttered, crossing his arms.
She introduced the men. “I thought Mr. Olevette would enjoy hearing about the security

installation project you managed for the Chicago Museum of Art. You tailored the system to their
needs perfectly.”

“That’s my job,” he replied flatly.
“It’s more than that,” she said. “You pour yourself into every project you direct. You, above

anyone, have the insight as to what level of security Mr. Olevette can achieve with the Elite System.”

Rick uncrossed his arms. “Well, the first thing we need to talk about is…”
She saw her chance to get out from under Rick’s microscope. A few paces away, she sighed in

relief. Dodged that cranky bullet.

Guests were absorbed in investigating the rooms that sprouted off the main corridor. A

collection of galleries displaying Stone Security’s awards, and pictures of Logan shaking hands with
powerful people in high places. One room offered looping video feed to entertain guests with demos
of other Stone Security systems. Another contained the hardwired circuitry laid bare for investigation,
a rare insight into security system components. Another room was dedicated to the other side of his

business, where Stone Security employed hundreds of bodyguards, most former military like Logan,
contracted out to protect everyone from Hollywood starlets to Heads of State to International
Ambassadors visiting the United States. Logan had put detail on each of his impressive guests as a
courtesy. And to encourage attendance at his Elite System’s unveiling.

“Where did you sneak off to?” Logan’s voice drifted over her like liquid seduction.
Knowing Rick was nearby, she sidestepped Logan’s close proximity. “Since when do I need

your permission to use the bathroom?”

“Since you keep finding excuses to avoid me.” His presence surrounded her as if she’d stepped

into his embrace. Longing filled her, washing goose bumps over her flesh. She made the mistake of
looking up. He captured her with those hot-cider eyes.

“Why should I avoid you?” The catch in her voice betrayed how he affected her.
“Good question. Let’s talk about it. Over a bottle of wine.”
A laugh bubbled from her chest. “We tried that once. We didn’t do much talking as I recall.”
An enticing grin curved his lips. “I didn’t hear you complaining.”
“It all happened so fast. I didn’t have time to think.”
He arched an eyebrow. “We were rolling around between the sheets for five hours and forty-

three minutes before I had to catch my plane. That’s hardly fast , sweetheart.”

“You’re entitled to your opinion,” she countered with a teasing smile. “But thanks for keeping

track.”

“Hey, you’re the one who fell asleep—twice. I had to find creative ways to wake you.”
She shivered with the memory of waking up to hot laps of his tongue between her thighs.
“Admit it. You couldn’t get enough.”
“Why mess with perfection and tempt fate twice?”
Copper lights sparked in his eyes. “Is that a challenge?”
She sent him a wary look. “I know better than to give you a challenge.”
“Too late.” He slid a fingertip along her jaw. “You just did.”
Wearing a smug grin, Logan turned and strolled toward his guests. He didn’t need a thermal

scan to read Allison’s core body temp or a computer to gauge her rapid heart rate.

Attraction sizzled in his veins. He craved the hunt, the chase, the challenge. With Allison, he’d

savor the moment of capture.

No one ignited him the way she did. He’d felt it the second he’d laid eyes on her across a

crowded room at a security convention. He’d known it the moment he’d touched her. He wasn’t
finished with her, not even close.

A hundred nights like the one they’d shared might take the edge off this hunger, but he doubted

it. This mission was different, deeper than his previous conquests. That knowledge bothered him
slightly, but there would be time later to investigate the persistent urge to throw her over his shoulder
and carry her off to his bed—and keep her there.

“You two looked cozy.”
Logan turned at the waist to find Rick staring him down. “It’s about time you came out of your

eighth-floor cave and joined my tour.”

“Don’t change the subject. You’re getting in over your head.”
Logan shoved his hands in his pockets. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play the idiot card with me, Stone. I know you better than anybody on this planet.”
“And?”
“I know that look.”

“Not sure where you’re going with this,” Logan replied with irritation, knowing full well where

Rick’s interrogation was leading.

Standing four inches shorter, Rick’s glare sharpened under the shelf of his brow. “ The look you

give that woman every time she walks into the room.”

“ That woman is the reason we’ve tapped into the international market so fast. You could show

her a little more respect.”

“I will when she gives me a reason. Haven’t found one yet.”
Defensiveness spiked Logan’s blood. “Since when do you shoot first and ask questions later?”
“Since you decided to mix business with pleasure.” Rick exhaled. “I don’t care where you dip

your wick. But when it interferes with this company and your judgment, it affects me. So yeah, I have
an issue.”

Logan warned, “Stay out of it.”
“Like hell I will.” A guest glanced at them. Rick lowered his voice. “I won’t stand by and

watch you botch your career to pursue a woman. Again.”

A storm gathered inside Logan. “Don’t go there.”
“Someone’s got to remind you what’s at stake. Allison Dupree is a minefield, and you’re

walking right into it. Need I mention Natalia?”

Icy tension seized Logan, chilling him to the bone. Any defense froze on his tongue, because

Rick had been there. Had gone with him to accomplish the two-year undercover mission in Siberia.
Had watched him fall head-over-combat-boots in lust with a woman who’d entranced him with her
startling green eyes, seduced him with her made-for-sex body. She appealed to his protective instincts
with her sob story about risking her life to feed his team information on Russian arms dealers.

He’d walked right into her trap—worst of all he’d pulled his team into the deadly crossfire.

Natalia had turned out to be a Russian spy, and his team had barely made it out of there alive. The
two-year operation had been compromised. So had U.S. intelligence. Logan’s decade-long military
career had ended.

Disgust consumed him at the memory. Rick had warned him then, and he’d ignored it. He’d

vowed to never make that mistake again.

Less hostile and more curious, Logan regarded Rick. “What’s got you convinced Allison is

some kind of threat?”

“A gut feeling.” Rick’s hazel eyes darkened to gunmetal gray. “That should be enough.”
Maybe it should. “We’re not in the field anymore. Or on enemy ground. This is my turf. I’d

know if something was wrong.”

“You’re too close to this. To her.”
“I need more than a hunch. Find me proof before you go off half-cocked.”
Rick’s nostrils flared. “Trust me. I will.”
“Until then, back off.” Logan flexed his hands, abruptly ending the conversation.
Logan didn’t like being second-guessed. His pit bull CSO was totally off base. He admired

Allison’s intelligence and work ethic. Sure, he was attracted to her. What man in his right mind
wouldn’t be?

When the demonstrations concluded around five that evening, Logan met his crew of

bodyguards assigned to the guests, gave them specific orders, and made sure everyone found their
correct limousines and arrived safely at their destinations. The roads were a slushy, snow-covered
mess. November in the Mile High City could be mild with endless vistas of sunshine. Or, like tonight,
an early storm could make travel next to impossible.

As the last limo pulled into rush hour traffic, he headed toward the bank of elevators. He had a

sole mission. And he refused to take no for an answer.

Before shutting down his computer, he checked the camera that looked in on Allison’s office.

She hadn’t left for the day. Perfect . When he saw her reach for her jacket, he flicked off his monitor.
Grabbing his coat, he cut the lights, locked his office and headed in her direction. He poked his head
inside her door. “Got a minute?”

She jumped at his intrusion. “Oh!” Then she sighed. “You startled me.”
“I want a second of your time.” A lot more than that, actually .
“Sure.” She approached him, pulling her long hair out from the back of her coat. The blond

strands floated around her shoulders, wispy with static.

Yellow light from a street lamp shone in through the window of the darkened office, bathing her

face in warm tones, illuminating pure gold highlights in her hair like glitter. His fingers twitched
yearning to tangle in the silken strands.

“Got plans for tonight?” he asked mildly.
She hesitated. “Not really. Why?”
“The company dinner to celebrate the Elite System’s release starts at seven.” He slid her an

appealing smile. The one he used when a girl was taking the last sip of her martini as he convinced
her to go home with him. Tonight, there was only one woman he wanted. “I want you to come with
me.”

She licked her lips. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets, preparing for heavy negotiation. “What if I promise I won’t

overstep my bounds?” She wasn’t budging. “C’mon, it’s the best idea I’ve had all day. Don’t ruin the
moment for me.”

She rolled her eyes. “You have at least fifty brilliant ideas a day.”
“Well, maybe twenty. But this one’s my personal favorite.”
A laugh sailed through her gorgeously kissable lips. “Your humility is inspiring,” she said

dryly.

“Hey, we all have our gifts.”
“True,” she admitted fighting a grin.
“I want someone there I can actually talk to. Mingling with stuffy Suits isn’t my bag.”
“Logan, you’re one of those Suits.”
His mouth parted as he feigned offense. “Thanks a lot.”
“It wasn’t meant as an insult.”
“That’s how I took it.” He crossed his arms, leaning his shoulder against the door jamb. “Now

you have to make it up to me.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Is that right?”
He offered gallantly, “I can think of a few ways…”
“Logan,” she warned.
A thrill chased through him. “Damn, you’re hot when you’re all riled up.”
“I’m not here for your personal amusement.”
No, but he liked teasing her, testing her. Few women went toe-to-toe with him. She had the grit

to give it right back. “Face it, I’m not taking no for an answer.”

She blinked at him, exasperated. “Then why did you bother asking?”
“Seemed like the noble thing to do.”
A sigh lifted her chest, and he could almost taste victory. “I’m not dressed for a party.”

“We’ll stop at your place on the way.”
“Fine.” She threw her hands up in surrender. “You could’ve told me from the start I didn’t have

a choice.”

He sobered. “You always have a choice.” Then he lifted a shoulder. “Doesn’t mean I have to

agree with it.”

She huffed. “Getting past you is worse than airport security.”
“We all have aspirations.”
“You should aim for loftier ideals. Like learning how to compromise.” As they rode the

elevator down to the first floor, she said, “If I agree to this, we’re driving separately.”

He frowned. “Sure that’s a good idea? We’ve had three inches of snowfall in under an hour.

My SUV is a better bet than your compact.”

“I thought snow melted quickly here. How bad could it be?”
As the elevator opened to the lobby, he pointed out the two-story windows. White sheets of

swirling snow muted the dark night beyond.

Allison paused. With her nerves already stretched thin today, driving in a squall with the threat

of losing control of her car might induce another panic attack.

He said, “I think you should take my offer.”
She gulped. “So do I.”
Once they were on the road, she was bombarded by second thoughts. Logan tapped her address

into his dashboard navigation. Although the interior of his Escalade was luxurious, and she
appreciated heated seats, the close quarters set her on edge. His size alone was intimidating, but he
also had knowledge of her intimate, vulnerable moments with him. Moments she needed to lay to rest
but couldn’t. As he drove, unspoken thoughts condensed in the air between them. Not even the slap of
windshield wipers or the satellite radio muted the words they didn’t say. Although, Logan appeared
annoyingly at ease.

Shoulders relaxed, one hand on the steering wheel, he maneuvered confidently through the

snow-swept streets. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. Green and blue lights from the
dashboard cast his face in profile, outlining his straight nose, deep-set eyes, chiseled jaw. Melted
snow glinted on his hair and coat like tiny beads of blue and green.

His arm draped over the armrest between them, hand relaxed at the wrist, elbow slanted toward

her. One sharp turn and his palm would land in her lap. Which wouldn’t be so bad…

She bit her lip, dropping her gaze to the floor mat where the snow from her boots started to

puddle. She wished she didn’t know how good his strong hands felt coasting over her bare skin,
settling at the base of her spine as she arched to meet his need.

But who was she kidding? She’d been a willing participant. They both recognized what was on

each other’s minds. Then, and now.

Seeing him in the dim light, sinfully hot, so close she smelled the woodsy-pine scent of him…

any woman’s mind would wander into forbidden territory. His lips held a trace of a smile as he
stared straight ahead. If he could read her thoughts, he might dial up the seduction. She doubted she
could withstand the heat without them both getting burned. Tucking her elbows close to her body, she
folded her gloved hands in her lap and even crossed her legs away from him.

The man knew how to get under a woman’s skin. And make her long to be in his bed.
She shivered.
“You cold?” He notched up the dual-control heating.
“I’m fine.”

He squinted at his GPS screen. “It says I’m supposed to turn right. I don’t remember condos or

townhouses around here. This isn’t the greatest neighborhood.”

“Home sweet home.”
“Seriously?”
She crossed her arms. “The directions are right. Just follow them.”
In the few minutes his navigation offered her, she glanced around his vehicle and noticed

several Snickers candy wrappers in his lower center console, where she would’ve expected a
hydrating athletic drink to sit awaiting him. At the sight, she uncrossed her legs. Maybe he was just a
typical guy, not the intimidating CEO she’d expected when their relationship turned from personal to
professional.

By the time he navigated into her building parking lot, her lower lip was raw from gnawing. At

least the complex looked less dismal under the cover of darkness. Sort of. She wished her neighbor’s
lamp didn’t spotlight his cockeyed broken blinds and the plant squashed against the slats.

Logan peered up at the rent-by-the-month units. “You live here.”
She fumbled with her purse. “It’s not that bad.”
“I’m calling my Realtor tomorrow.”
“That’s not necessary—”
“Trust me, it is.”
She narrowed her eyes. She didn’t like his bossy tone.
He stepped out of his Escalade, made it to the passenger side and opened the door as she

reached for the handle. She blinked. The man could move .

“I can open my own door.” Prickly defiance edged her tone.
“I was raised on a military base in Pensacola, Florida,” he replied. “I also came from a long

line of southern gentlemen. Manners aren’t optional.” He held out his hand. She reluctantly took it as
he helped her down.

He didn’t let go when her feet touched the icy pavement. She tried to tug away, but his grasp

was firm, warm. He brushed his thumb over the points of her knuckles before slowly releasing her.
Despite her high-heeled boots, Logan stood a foot taller and easily reached over her shoulder to shut
the passenger door. Their mouths were inches apart.

Their breath clouded and mingled in the crisp night. White flakes fell around them as if they

stood in a snow globe, a frozen moment where time and complexity didn’t exist.

Heat cascaded through her. Her abdomen tightened with desire.
God help her, if he kissed her right now…
She just might let him.

CHAPTER 2

A barking dog broke the dream-like spell. Logan’s eyes sparkled with hunger, but he took a step

back and yanked up his collar, glancing at the building. “Which one’s yours?”

“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 run-down 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 bee-lined 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, like 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 he could

force Logan’s hand, he had another thing coming.

“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. It wasn’t Stephanie, whose asshole quarterback high school
boyfriend beat her up. It was Sarah, their youngest sister, who’d called him sobbing, begging for his
help. Steph had been too damn proud to ask for help or speak out against the abusive bastard who
kept her trapped.

“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.”
“Finished?”
Rick stood stiffly, his eyes like stone. “Guess so.”
“Good.” Logan stepped around him.

*

Allison looked up from the bar and saw Logan heading her way, a man on a mission. She

quickly turned away.

She didn’t want the attention that followed him. She wanted to be her usual anonymous self.

Besides, when he stood too close, and gave her that velvety look, her best intentions became her
body’s downfall. She wanted him. His touch. The way he took control. The heat of his breath on her
skin.

“Don’t you just love festive occasions?” A dry female voice came from beside her.
Allison blinked and faced the woman. Her henna-brown hair framed her face with a razor-

sheared edge, focusing attention on her small features. Devon Leigh wore her confidence like a badge

that fit her as perfectly as the black dress wrapped around her pale slenderness. She was a former
army major, didn’t take crap from anybody, and served as Logan’s chief information officer.

Sharing Devon’s unimpressed observation, Allison agreed. “It’s right up there with juggling

cobras. How are you?”

“Dandy.” She threw Allison a looked that said I’m bored out of my mind . “I don’t even know

half these people.”

Allison shrugged. “Me, either.”
“You’ve only been here six weeks. I’ve worked with Logan for five years.”
“And he sings your praises.”
Devon tossed a flip of her dark hair back from her face. “He’d better. After all I’ve done for

him I should have a star on the sidewalk in front of our building, like they do in Hollywood.”

Allison wasn’t fooled by how casually Devon shrugged off the compliment. “I’ve seen you

work. You love what you do.”

Devon offered a thoughtful nod. “You get the fleas with the dog.”
A laugh bubbled up Allison’s throat. “Thanks for going against the crowd and not treating me

like a leper.”

“Our kind needs to stick together.”
They exchanged grins. A subtle acknowledgement, quiet understanding with no need for

explanation.

Devon displayed fierce wit, a sharp tongue, and a “don’t screw with me” attitude that Allison

envied. Devon was a master in the art of the comeback. Allison had expected such a strong
personality would clash with her own, but she and Devon sensed kindred spirits in each other.
Women who’d faced the front lines, each in her own way, and worshipped their independence.
They’d confronted parallel realities stocked with powerful men in the good-‘ol-boys club. They’d
fought to gain respect while it came easily to others. Although Devon had a grittier edge and a hefty
chip on her shoulder, Allison was more comfortable in her presence than with the few women she’d
once considered “friends.” Devon didn’t hold back or ignore the obvious, like the wives on the
military base when she’d turned to them for help six years ago. She envisioned Devon learning of
Trevor’s cruelty, marching up to him, and ripping his “my wife is my property” attitude to shreds.

Allison wished there were more Devon’s in this world.
“Oh, for the love of leeches.” Devon’s pleasant expression soured. “Turn away. Don’t make

eye contact with her, or you’ll invite the Plague.”

“Who are you talking about?”
A woman with a generous figure and fluffy curls in her frosted hair barreled toward them.

“Ladies, ladies! Isn’t this a fabulous party? I need another chardonnay.”

Devon leaned close and muttered, “She’d think a shipwreck at the bottom of the ocean was

fabulous if it had a full mini bar.”

Allison’s lips twitched as the new arrival bounced up to her. “Hi, I’m Vivi Dunn.”
Dread seeped into her pores. Rick Dunn’s wife. Great . Had he put her up to this? A fishing

expedition to hook juicy slander?

Vivi’s blue eyes, encircled with heavy black liner and flaking mascara, swept Allison with a

resentful look. “I remember being young and pretty. It all goes to hell after forty-five. Oh, what I
would give to have my before-four-kids body again.”

With a forced smile, Allison edged away. She gripped her martini glass, even though she had

no intention of drinking. Her stomach had gone from queasy to nauseous.

Vivi poked Allison with her elbow. Pink liquor sloshed from her glass onto the bar. “In my day

I turned heads.” She fluffed her hair and gave a winning smile. “I’d walk into a room and have the
attention of every man there.”

Devon rolled her eyes. “Not all attention is good attention.”
Vivi wrinkled her nose. “Oh, admit it. Any man with a pulse lusts after this girl.” An

observation that made Devon scowl and Allison squirm. “Like me,” she said, nudging Allison, “you
inherited the genes of a Barbie doll. Enjoy it while it lasts. To get my figure back I’d have to give up
cheesecake and wine. Then, I’d have to ask, what’s the point in living?”

Allison sent a pleading glance to Devon, who shrugged with a sorry-for-your-luck expression.

So she replied thinly, “Life’s meant to be enjoyed.”

“Exactly! I knew I’d like you.” Vivi beamed. “We’ll get along famously.”
The bartender set a glass of white wine on the counter. Vivi swung her hips to bump Devon

aside. She plucked the drink and drained half before resuming her interrogation. “I saw you come in
with the boss man.”

“Logan invited me.” Allison added quickly, “It was a last-minute thing.”
“Yummy.” Her shoulders gave a little shiver. “He’s a big hunk of deliciousness, isn’t he? Drink

up, sweetie.” She tapped the bottom of Allison’s glass. “According to office gossip, when he takes a
girl home she’s in for a good long night.” She winked. “If you know what I mean.”

A rock dropped into Allison’s stomach. How many working relationships had Logan made

personal? She straightened. It didn’t matter. Picturing him with another woman, possibly one in this
room, didn’t bother her. Or leave her with a hollow sensation in her very core. She wasn’t one of
those girls. She needed to set the woman straight. “You don’t understand, Logan and I—”

Vivi flapped her hand. “Sure, sure, corporate politics. But did you think no one would notice

the sexy CEO showing up with his latest ‘assistant?’ Puh-leez.”

Allison swallowed a choking sensation.
“He hasn’t taken his eyes off you since you two arrived.” Vivi casually polished off her drink,

blind to the pale horror on Allison’s face. “Ah, those were the days.”

Is that what they think ? Had Logan dragged her here to bolster his reputation in and out of the

office? She felt mortified, used. Sharp anger dug in its talons.

Devon inserted, “Riveting as your theories are, I’m stepping outside for a cigarette. Anyone

who cares to join can. Meaning Allison.”

Vivi arched a painted-on eyebrow. “Well, smoking explains your skinniness and the feathering

around your lips.”

Allison frowned. That comment was absurdly off the mark. Devon had a striking dark-on-pale

beauty most women would kill for. So what if she smoked, considering the stress of her job.

Devon lashed back, “Better than a has-been lush who doesn’t know when to shut her trap and

mind her own business.”

Allison could’ve hugged her. She wished she’d stuck up for Devon when she had the chance.
Vivi whispered aghast, “Well, I never.” She glared at Devon’s retreating back. “Jealousy is an

ugly accessory to wear to a party. Hmph.”

“Devon isn’t jealous,” Allison said. “No one should be, because there’s nothing—”
“Everything okay here?” Logan’s voice came from behind them.

CHAPTER 3

Allison whirled on Logan. No! she wanted to shout, furious with herself as much as him. How

dare you flaunt me, when I never asked for your spotlight?

“Your latest conquest and I were just chatting.” Throwing Logan a wink, Vivi elbowed him in

the ribs.

With sarcasm Allison remarked, “Yes, Mr. Stone. Everything is lovely. Mrs. Dunn and I were

just discussing office gossip. About you.”

Logan had the dignity to cringe.
“Don’t worry,” Vivi insisted, swatting Logan’s backside. “I explained how your reputation

precedes you.”

He went from concerned to irritated, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “Whatever she said, it’s not

true.”

“Except the good stuff.” Vivi grinned indulgently. “I heard you—”
“Allison,” he interrupted, “dinner is being served. Join me?”
“No, thanks.” She glared at him. “I’ve lost my appetite.”
He slid his arm around her waist and guided her away. “There’s an empty seat beside mine

with your name on it.”

She wriggled out of his grasp. “I told you, I’m not hungry.”
“Humor me.”
“Isn’t that what I’ve been doing?”
As they neared the table, he blocked her retreat, and she had little choice but to move with his

strides. He planted her drink at the place setting beside his guest-of-honor position. Then he held the
chair out for her. She should get out while she could. But he’d driven, and finding a cab in a
snowstorm wasn’t likely. This was the last time she let a man talk her into something when she knew
better. She dropped into the seat and sent him a withering look. “You threw me under the bus tonight,
Logan.”

He peered at her intently. “Is that what you think?” Guests swarmed around the table, taking

their places. “We’ll talk later.”

How convenient , she stewed. She gripped the sides of her chair like it was the only stable

thing in the room. Anger boiled under the surface of her outward calm.

When Vivi and Rick Dunn sat across the table from her, the night went from intolerable to

abysmal. She concentrated on the centerpiece, a Birch-bark candelabra casting a soft glow that
should’ve soothed her. Conversations rippled to the left, to the right. Her head started to pound.

The table went through half a dozen toasts to Logan and Stone Security as salads and warm

rolls made the rounds. She winced as a well-meaning colleague tried chatting her up. She’d rather
face a rabid dog than endure small talk. He got the picture after a few minutes.

As adoring fans showered him with compliments, Logan redirected praise away from himself

and toward his various employees. In the main dining area beyond their private room, a piano and

violin played Mozart concertos.

Of the three courses presented, Allison managed to hold down four bites of salad, three tips of

brown-butter asparagus, and two forkfuls of steamed lobster. Vivi never stopped talking. Allison’s
head pounded worse. She wanted to tell the woman to chew her food before speaking. And pause for
breath. But she’d never get a word in edgewise. Over the next painful hour, Allison endured Rick’s
stinging glares. Indigestion and frustration made it hard to breathe.

Unable to force-feed herself, she wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin on her lap and dropped

it onto her plate. She scooted her chair back, anxious to excuse herself from purgatory.

As if on cue, Vivi launched an interrogation. “Allison, where did you say you were from

originally?”

Allison replied coolly, “I didn’t.”
“I’ll bet you grew up in California. Blonde hair, beach body, starlet looks. I’m from Venice

Beach.”

“How nice for you.”
“Where did you grow up?”
Allison had imagined a thousand different ways to avoid this discussion. Unfortunately, put on

the spot, she had no clever reply and half the table interested in the answer. She opted for the truth. “I
was born just outside Paris. Since I can remember, my parents toured with the European Opera. I
traveled with them.”

Vivi gasped with joy. “How fabulous!” She dropped her fork and leaned forward. “Where did

you go? What was it like? Oh, I’ve always dreamed of visiting Europe.” Her elbow slammed Rick in
the ribs, and he grunted. “Tell me more!”

This was the last conversation she wanted to have with strangers, definitely not with Logan

listening, learning the sad lonely life she’d lived. “It was…interesting.”

The evasive answer didn’t satisfy Vivi. “Paint the picture for me. I need details!”
Staring at a distant point on the wall, she dredged up the past. “We spent most of our time in

France, Austria, Germany and Italy. We also toured the Sydney Opera House, and my parents
performed in Moscow and Japan. Always traveling.” Her teeth gnawed at her lower lip. “I really
never had a home, a place to grow up.”

Gentle concern shone in Logan’s eyes. “Traveling like that is a dream for a lot of people. But as

a kid, that must have been hard.”

“It was all I knew.” She wasn’t looking for sympathy. “My parents lived an adventurous life,

but part of me always wanted one place to call home.”

Vivi’s blue eyes glazed over, missing the shadowed undertones of Allison’s private torment.

“How fabulous! So, what brought you to America?”

More discussions around the table ceased. She gained a larger audience. She dug her nails into

her leather chair. “I met a soldier. An American. His description of this country was what I’d always
wanted. The land where dreams come true.” She swallowed hard. “I believed him.”

“You’re not with him anymore.” Vivi’s over-statement of the obvious demanded explanation.
Allison made the mistake of glancing across the table. Rick’s glare was fastened on her. As if

he’d been waiting for this moment. Easy access to a point of personal humiliation. But she refused to
break so easily. “My ex-husband is no longer with us.”

That shut them all up. Not even a whisper followed. Rick’s reaction was visceral. He didn’t

need to speak. His look of disgust all but called her out on the lie.

Whether he knew it or not, her admission was essentially true. When it came to Trevor’s mental

state. Her ex-husband’s descent into psychosis turned him into an abomination of the young man she
met at eighteen.

She hated the stares digging into her, some pitying, others eager for scandalous details. She

denied them the sick pleasure. “If you’ll excuse me.” She scraped her chair back from the table.

Logan stood, too. He reached for her but she brushed past him, heading to the restroom. There

she splashed cold water on her cheeks, trying to soothe the burn of embarrassment. She lifted her
face, drying her chin as she looked at herself in the mirror.

Whatever beauty Vivi pointed out wasn’t in the reflection Allison saw. Her inner landscape

was so damaged and desolate she’d never understand why anyone found her attractive. Least of all
Logan. The sparkle that once lit her green eyes had faded long ago. She barely knew the person
staring back at her. “God, my life is a disaster.”

“And I thought I had problems,” a brusque female voice responded. A faint trace of cigarette

smoke hung in the air.

Allison’s gaze snapped from her own reflection to Devon standing behind her. Her insides still

writhing, she couldn’t stand another minute of being vulnerable. She spoke with forced humor. “I put
on quite a show. Sorry you missed it. I gave Vivi enough gossip to last a year.”

Devon shrugged. Her dark eyes were kind. “Don’t take it hard. Trust me your fifteen minutes of

infamy will fade by next week. People may toss around interesting theories or pity for a while, but
that requires more energy than the accepted pastimes of bitching and back-stabbing.”

A puff of laughter escaped Allison. “That actually makes me feel better.”
“I thought it might.” Devon smiled. “Want to join me at the main restaurant bar?”
“I’d love to,” Allison said a little too eagerly. She tossed her paper towel in the trash. “There’s

no way I’m going back into that private room.”

“Don’t blame you.”
“I’m a cheap date tonight,” Allison added, in case the woman considered changing her mind.

“Ginger ale is about all I can stomach.”

“Fine by me.” They exited the restroom together. As they took two seats at the u-shaped bar in

the dining room, Devon sighed. “I tried to warn you about Vivi Dunn. The demon spawn dug her
hooks into me years ago.”

“Two seconds too late.” Allison shook her head. “You weren’t kidding about the Plague.”
“Would I sugarcoat that hell-on-wheels?”
As they waited for drinks, Devon shared the amusing story of how she first met Vivi. The

major’s straight-faced depiction had Allison doubled over with laughter.

Allison eyed her gratefully. “Thanks for saving me. If you weren’t here, I wouldn’t have left the

bathroom. From now on, you have my full abiding trust.”

Devon arched a black eyebrow. “Not sure Logan’s going to like that.”
“Why?”
“I know how he works.”
“Then you’re exactly the person I need to talk to right now.”
“Sounds like a girl’s-night-out waiting to happen.”
Allison admitted longingly, “You have no idea.” She found ginger ale acted like a truth serum

as much as alcohol. She spent the next thirty minutes spilling the story of her one-night-stand with
Logan. And how he wouldn’t let it go.

Devon listened patiently, respectfully. Her lack of judgment was the balm Allison needed to

soothe her misgivings. Once she’d purged her pent-up anxiety, she felt relieved.

After a brief silence, Devon offered words of wisdom along with a sardonic look. “There are

worse things.”

“Oh, really?”
“Look at the bright side. At least you aren’t pregnant.”
Allison’s grin died on her lips. That possibility had occurred to her earlier.
Oh, God . What if I am pregnant?
No. Absolutely impossible. He’d used a condom. They may have had sex four times within five

hours, but she didn’t remember a condom breaking. Her recent physical issues—bloating, breast
tenderness, stomach upset, fatigue—all symptoms of PMS. Had to be, even though her period hadn’t
come yet.

“You’re right, Devon,” she whispered faintly. “Things could definitely be worse.”
“See? It’s all about perspective.” Devon sipped her drink, her lipstick leaving a red ring on her

straw. Then she froze. “Um, this doesn’t look good.”

Allison straightened, burying her worry under heaps of denial. Because the alternative was

unthinkable. “What? Is Vivi charging in on her high horse?”

“No, but Vivi’s ‘big hunk of deliciousness’ is headed this way. And I’d bet my military stripes

he’s not interested in small talk.”

Growing tense, Allison glanced over her shoulder. Logan stormed toward her with determined

strides. Her good mood vanished. “He’s the last person I want to talk to now.”

“Not talking is not an option. I know that look. I’ll catch up with you later.” Devon fled.
Allison cursed herself again for agreeing to ride with Logan. She should’ve refused his

invitation in the first place.

Logan crossed the space between them. His eyes flashed with copper sparks. “I’ve been

looking all over for you.”

“I didn’t want to be found.”
Spinning her around to face him, he gripped the arms of her bar chair. His thighs wedged her

legs apart to accommodate his stance. “If you’d stuck around, I could’ve diffused the situation.”

“You’ve done enough for one night, don’t you think?”
“What does that mean?”
“I want to leave.” Since I got here .
“Fine.” He pushed away from her chair. “I’ll grab our coats.”
She hadn’t expected him to agree. “You can’t go, Logan. You’re the guest of honor.”
“As the guest of honor, I can do whatever I want.”
“Then the rumor mill will have all the ammunition it needs to crucify us.”
His gaze sharpened. “I dare them to say it to my face.”
She threw her hands up. “That’s the point of gossip. Doesn’t matter if it’s true. It’s supposed to

be secretive. And destructive.”

“I can institute a policy against that. Handy thing, being the boss. And right now, I don’t care

what anyone thinks.” He threw a fifty on the bar to cover her three-dollar tab.

Grabbing her hand, he led her to the coat check. She ignored the hot tingles leaping from his

palm to hers. He helped her with her jacket, shouldered into his, and they waited in the lobby for the
valet. When the college kid pulled the Escalade up to the restaurant, Logan made sure she was settled
in, shut the passenger door and went to the driver’s side.

Thankfully, the weather had cleared. She’d be able to drive her car home from the office

without a problem. Except, as they pulled onto the street, she noticed he was heading in the wrong

direction.

He ran a hand through his hair. “I want to apologize for Vivi Dunn’s interrogation. You didn’t

have to answer her questions.”

“Really?” Her palms turned face-up in her lap. “What choice did I have?”
He fell silent for a minute. “You grew up surrounded by world-class talent. Can you sing?”
“To myself, in the car. Or in the shower. That’s as far as my vocal talent stretches.”
“So what else don’t I know about you that I should. Did you hula-hoop with Pavarotti? Play

hopscotch with the Phantom of the Opera?”

A snort of amusement escaped her. “I wish.”
“I never noticed you talk with an accent.”
“Wherever we went, I learned how to blend in. That’s why I speak so many languages. When I

came to America, I adopted the news anchors’ speech I heard on the nightly reports.”

“Makes sense.” He sprayed windshield fluid and hit the wipers to scrape away grime kicked up

by the car in front of them. “You’ve spent your life in constant state of change. You’ve had to adapt
like a chameleon.”

She’d never thought of it that way. “You do what you have to do, to survive.”
“I understand. More than you know.” He sent her a meaningful look, and she saw the

compassion in his eyes. If Logan’s military experience was anything like her ex-husband’s, the
Special Forces had sent him all over the world to meet with heads of state or hide out in hovels
undercover. Always vigilant, prepared for anything. They were wanderers, both. “Were you ever
onstage?” he asked.

“I had a few cameo roles, but no one took the time to teach me more than the basics.”
“Must’ve been lonely. Never staying in one place long enough to get to make friends. Never

hanging with kids your age, playing kick ball or freeze tag.”

A pang of regret echoed in her chest. “You do grow up fast. When I was young, it was dazzling.

Bright lights. Roaring applause. Egos bigger than the European Union. I can see why my parents
craved the glitz and fame.” Her forehead pinched. “I begged my parents to send me to boarding
school. But applying to an academy required money, entrance exams, paperwork. Things they couldn’t
be bothered with.” Old disappointment surfaced. She stared out the passenger window, watching
streetlights reflect off damp trails streaming down the glass.

“Listen,” he said finally, “I should’ve cut off Vivi when I had the chance. Won’t happen again.”
“You’re right. In six weeks I’ll never see those people again. Even if I did, I can fend for

myself. You’re not my keeper.”

“Still—”
“Chalk it up to a bad night.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be that way.”
“What did you expect, Logan?” she shot back.
“Not what happened. I didn’t think things would go downhill like that.”
With an acidic tone, she replied, “Then we’re even. I didn’t expect your coworkers’ wives to

share the juicy tales about your past love life. Awkward doesn’t begin to describe it.”

Logan took his eyes off the road to shoot her a glance. “They wouldn’t dare.”
“Those people couldn’t wait to show me how insignificant I am. Just another one of your

conquests. Here today, gone tomorrow.”

His grip flexed on his steering wheel. “What the hell do they know about us?”
“Logan, there is no us .”

He went quiet. He took his foot off the gas as they eased up to a red light. “Now I get the

rumors.”

She said nothing.
“I want to think of us as…‘us.’”
“Trust me, you really don’t.”
He let out an exasperated breath. “Haven’t you thought once about that night? Am I the only one

who sees where this can go?”

She stared at her lap. “What if I have? It doesn’t change my situation. I’m not at a point in my

life where I can have a relationship.”

“So you keep saying,” he said angrily.
“Then why are we discussing it?”
Logan punched the gas when the light turned green. Because I can’t let it go .
As he pulled off the main roads onto Allison’s street, he braced for an argument. He wasn’t

disappointed.

She swiveled to him. “You’re supposed to drop me off at my car. At work .”
“I saw some issues with your security system. Thought I’d fix them.”
Her face went white. “It wasn’t installed correctly?”
“It’s fine. It works. But I can make it better.” I can make a lot of things better .
Concern creased between her eyebrows. “I thought I ordered the top of the line.”
“To an extent. There are software updates I can access and download to enhance what you

have.”

Her hands curled around her purse. “How long will it take?”
“Not long. Believe me you’ll feel a lot safer when I’m finished.”
After a few tense moments she murmured, “Alright.”
At least that got him into her apartment. After that the options were endless. He’d take her on

her bed, the couch, the floor if they didn’t make it that far. It seemed like forever since he’d touched
her skin. She’d become an addiction, and nothing except having her naked in his arms would satisfy
this need.

He managed to calm his raging hard-on long enough to park, grab his laptop from the backseat,

and follow her upstairs.

As she unlocked her three deadbolts, he experienced a swell of protectiveness. It bothered him

that she needed this level of security to make her feel safe.

“What do you plan to do?” she asked, tapping in the code to silence the alarms.
Something totally inappropriate . While she hung up her coat, his gaze traveled her hourglass

contours. Damn. “I need to set up my laptop and download the software updates.” He explained the
procedures as he went through the motions. He’d rather be doing a different motion, like gliding his
hips between her thighs.

He wiped his forehead. He logged into his office account using his personal password. Nothing

happened. “Does the building have wi-fi?”

She rolled her eyes. “They don’t guarantee anything beyond heat and plumbing. Sometimes

that’s too much to ask.”

“Not helpful.” He really needed to get in touch with his Realtor tomorrow. He didn’t like her

living in this hole. He tried accessing a wireless network via several accounts until one let him
through. “Looks like ‘babydaddy9’ saved the day.”

“How nice of him,” she said dryly.

The USB port on his computer allowed him to save the data to a thumb-drive and insert it into a

portal on her home system. But it only accepted a partial upgrade. He considered his options. “I might
have to do some of this the old-fashioned way.”

“Meaning?”
“Hard-wiring.” He removed the panels from her systems, saw the tangle of yellow, red and

blue circuits. “We need to cut the electricity.”

She edged back. “Why?”
“Certain wires transmit to our company routers for remote accessibility. I need to re-rig your

system.”

She frowned. “Sounds complicated.”
“Nah. Just a few tricks I learned from the bomb squad.”
“Seriously?”
He chuckled. “Defusing bombs wasn’t my gig, but I’ve hacked into telephone wires and broken

into armored cars with less. This is cake.”

“If you say so.”
He sensed her nervous tension as she led him to the fuse box in her hall closet. She pushed

aside two coats then rearranged a stack of sealed moving boxes to clear the way. It struck him that she
was all packed and ready to go. She could leave town tomorrow. He didn’t like it.

“You’ve been here six weeks and haven’t unpacked?”
She brushed off his remark. “Non-essentials. No need.”
He thought about her sparse furnishings, her bare walls, the lack of anything personal in this

space. “Why not?”

Pink arcs crested her cheeks. She didn’t meet his eyes. “You never know when you’ll have to

pick up and leave at a moment’s notice.”

“No, I don’t know. Why do I get the impression you’re used to living out of a suitcase?”
“I travel for work,” she said irritably. “Wherever the job is, I go.”
“How can you do that? Just drift from place to place without anyone knowing where you are or

where you’re going?”

“Practice.”
Her sharp reply left him wondering what was really going on. “Don’t tell me you do this by

choice.”

“You do what you have to do.”
He didn’t believe her. No one lived like this, without friends or family or home, for no good

reason.

“I can change that.” The words slipped out before he’d considered them, but he didn’t plan to

take them back.

“No, you can’t.”
“I’ll extend your contract. You’ve more than doubled our client reach. It’s a no-brainer.”
“Not interested. Thanks anyway.”
His internal alarm system told him something was wrong. He wanted to know why she moved

around so much, what kept her so isolated, why she refused to let him get close. “Allison, what are
you so afraid of?”

Once he asked the question, an answer came to him. It wasn’t something. It was someone . Go

d, it made so much sense. It’d been staring him in the face this whole time. The shadows behind her
eyes she thought he didn’t see. Her secretiveness. The way she walked around with her guard up

twenty-four-seven. It all added up to one thing. She was on the run from a threat that had terrorized
her so badly she didn’t know how to trust, how to be vulnerable, or admit she needed help.

Unfortunately, wanting to protect her, and her allowing him to, were in direct opposition. He’d

faced worse. A nameless threat wouldn’t stop him from helping her, going to the ends of the earth to
keep her safe, keep her in his life. Probably an irrational response toward a girl he hardly knew, but
there it was. Might’ve had something to do with his long-held admiration for her intelligence, the
polished professionalism she’d exhibited over the years they’d crossed paths at security-based
functions. The hint of a free spirit hiding beneath her classy formality, that he’d finally seen her
release with him in the bed of a hotel room. She’d always intrigued him, caught his attention in a
crowded room, made his blood sizzle with desire.

She embodied him that something different he’d been searching for a long time. This wasn’t the

kind of thing a guy experienced and moved on—this was the real deal.

Now that they’d spent time together and confirmed his desire ran deeper than surface attraction,

he wouldn’t abandon her or ignore her, the way everyone else had in her life. Maybe she just needed
someone on her side, someone she turned to when she faced the darkness alone. He wanted to be that
man. And if Rick thought she was another Natalia, he was dead wrong. Logan knew it this time.

Allison’s forced laugh pierced his troubled thoughts. “I’m not afraid of anything. You’re too

paranoid. Which I guess is a good thing considering your line of work.” She pointed to the electrical
panel. “You wanted to cut the power, right?”

He nodded. He braced one hand against the upper shelf as he reached for the fuse box.
Their bodies pressed close in the small closet. He notched the fuses to the left. The lights went

out. Darkness enveloped them. He inhaled the scent of her hair, her skin. Base urges surged inside
him.

As he drew back, he couldn’t resist letting his fingertips glide against the indentation of her

waist. She pulled in a quick breath.

Before he could help it, he grazed his knuckles up the center of her back, sifting his fingers

through her hair. He traced the baby-fine silk at the top of her neck. His erection pulsed.

“Logan.” She choked on his name, as she escaped his embrace. He let her go. For now.
“This won’t take long.” He found his small LED flashlight in his laptop bag. He switched it on

and stuck it between his teeth. The stream of blue light allowed him to work in the dark. As he
finished connecting the white and yellow wires, he glanced at Allison from the corner of his eye. The
glow of his flashlight barely illuminated her. She hunched over the calendar in her day planner. Her
eyes skimmed quickly as she flipped pages, her face shockingly pale. He closed the panel then took
the flashlight in his hand, spotlighting her. “Counting down the days until your next road trip?”

She slammed the planner shut. “N-no, nothing like that.”
Yeah, right . “Your upgrades are in progress.”
“Really, that’s all it took?”
“I told you it would be painless.” He sealed both panels, tapped another code into his laptop,

and his downloads zipped through to completion.

“As a bonus of the upgrades, you’ll be linked to my private Stone Security server that’ll send

you upgrades automatically from now on.”

“That’s very generous. I didn’t expect that.” Her face softened with a gorgeous look of trust that

took his breath away. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“I can think of one way.” In the next second pulled her into his arms. Their bodies sealed

together. She offered no protest as his arms tightened around her waist. He murmured low, “I want to

give you what you need. What we both need.”

Her back straightened against the wall. “I know…” She didn’t stop him as his mouth fastened

on the side of her neck.

In the dark, touch became more powerful. Sensation overtook reason. Heat and need pulsed

through him. He drew on her skin, sucking in the taste of her, memorizing her texture. He dragged his
lips up her throat, whispered in her ear. “Let me touch you.” His tongue traced the curve of her ear,
dipped into the delicate canal. She shivered. “I can make you forget about everything.”

“That’s the problem,” she murmured. Her body refuted her statement by pressing harder against

him.

An invitation he gladly took. “Just you and me.” He glided his palms up her bare arms. “Right

here, right now.”

When she exhaled, he inhaled. Nothing existed outside this moment. She consumed him.
He scattered kisses over her face, the corners of her mouth, her chin as her head tipped back. “I

want to make you feel beautiful.” Make you need me . “Make you sigh and then make you scream.”
Can’t get enough . “Remind you how good it was the first time.” How it can be even better .

“I remember.” Her lashes fluttered closed. Lingering resistance drained from her, and she went

slack in his embrace. He guided her arms up around his neck. Her nails scraped through his hair. His
whole body throbbed.

“Damn, what you do to me.” He pressed his barely contained erection against her hip.
“It’s mutual.”
He captured her lips and didn’t hold back. He poured scorching need into his kiss. His tongue

dove deep, curled around hers, conquering her mouth with every sweep.

If he had more control, he’d spend hours kissing her. He wasn’t that man tonight. Not with

bright-hot desire coursing through his veins with a vengeance.

His hands roamed over her curves. When he cupped her breasts, her nipples tightened and she

arched into his greedy palms. He kissed a path down to her cleavage, shoved her neckline aside along
with the lacy edges of her bra. He plucked her nipples with his tongue, tugged them with his teeth. Her
soft moans set him on fire. He wanted to tear away the fabric that kept him from tasting every glorious
naked inch of her. His hands moved lower, fingers splaying over her backside, pinning her against his
rock-hard length.

When he closed his fists, her dress bunched between his fingers. He inched it higher, gliding his

hand down until his fingertips met skin. He groaned into her cleavage. Then he slid his touch up her
thigh, lifting the hem of her dress. He traced the satiny line of her panties to the juncture of her thighs.
He found her damp with proof of desire. He edged the cloth aside, gliding his fingers along her
smooth slit, moving in a slow sensual rhythm.

As he stroked the moist crease, her hips rolled with his motions. She whimpered approval.

Nothing compared to how amazing her slick heat felt coating his hand. He angled his wrist down and
slid his middle finger inside her. His thumb moved in swift circles against her clit.

Shaking, gasping, she stood on tiptoe as he took her to peak. Her inner muscles gripped his

finger and the ridge of her clit pulsed against his thumb. She released a sexy cry as he gave her a
double climax.

She sagged against him, replete. He withdrew from her heat.
He would’ve stayed right there and made her come again, but if he didn’t unzip his fly in two

seconds he’d burst through it. He needed to bury himself deep inside her, before the flame of desire
burned away his last threads of sanity.

“Your bed. Now.” His breath seethed in rapid bursts. “Or I’ll take you right here against the

wall.”

Instead of leading the way, she froze. Her inviting warmth suddenly retreated. She tensed all

over and untangled herself from his arms.

The message finally hit his lust-fogged brain. She was doing it again, damn it. Denying him just

as he crossed the threshold of her trust, shutting him down. The rejection was maddening. “What the
hell happened?”

“Something that shouldn’t have.”
He clenched his teeth. “Sorry, sugar, we already went there. Remember?”
“Not again. I can’t do this.”
Don’t-touch-me vibes battered his libido into submission. His sexual high screeched to a halt.

“Why?”

“It isn’t right.”
“What’s not right about this?”
“Everything. I don’t know. I can’t explain.”
“You can sure as hell try.”
“I promise it has nothing to do with you.”
He spread his arms to state the obvious. “I’m the one bursting at the seams. So don’t tell me it’s

got nothing to do with me.”

She went silent.
He glared at the ceiling. “Unbelievable.” He scraped his hands through his hair, horny and

pissed off. “I should’ve known this was coming. You fire me up and then leave me high and dry. I’m
done with this game.”

Her eyes snapped. “I’m a game to you?”
“You’re the one making up the rules as you go along. You tell me.” His strangled tone of

accusation and sexual frustration made her shut down even more.

“Accept it, Logan. I can’t give you what you need.”
He wasn’t convinced. Especially with afterglow bright in her cheeks even as she crossed her

arms like a shield over her heart. “Did you bother consulting me on the subject?” he demanded.
“Because I can guarantee you’re exactly what I need.”

“I’m not talking sexually.” Misery coated her voice. “In every other way.”
The copout infuriated him. “I’ll decide what you can or can’t do for me.”
Her head snapped up as if he’d slapped her. When she looked at him, her gaze burned with

disgust. “Thanks for deciding my worth. At least I know where I stand.”

Too late, he realized how his half-cocked statement sounded. “You know that’s not what I

meant.”

“Isn’t it?”
Between her biting allegation and his own remorse, he felt like he was handcuffed and getting

his mug shot taken. Nothing he did now would change the situation. “Fan-freaking-tastic.”

The statement hung empty in the air because she’d already gone to the closet to turn on the

lights. Brightness roared to life like an incinerator.

She didn’t even look at him as she grabbed her coat. “I need my car for tomorrow.”
“I figured.” Resentment coated his tone, although longing hounded him. Twenty cold showers

wouldn’t douse the need still raging in his blood.

“Then let’s go,” she said tightly.

Dismal silence filled his SUV as he drove her back to the office. This wasn’t how he’d planned

tonight.

As his sexual fever wore off and the savage hunger died down, he saw the mistake he’d made.

He should’ve given the invitation and let her come to him—the way he had the night they’d slept
together. Now he understood on that night she’d still felt in control, she’d made the choice instead of
him initiating the seduction.

Then again, he’d been dishing out hints left and right since she started working for him. In the

past six weeks she’d made every excuse to sidestep the obvious.

Despite their crazy mutual attraction, she’d kept herself in check and he hadn’t. Could that have

been a bigger clue?

Then, there was his suspicion about her unmentioned past. She had her own demons to face,

issues she didn’t want his help solving. Even though that was his nature. He was the guy who stepped
in, fixed what was broken, and got the job done.

Damn. Rick was right. Logan had a type—the unattainable woman. A pattern he ought to break.

Tonight.

If only it was any other woman but Allison. Then he’d walk away without a scratch, without

looking back and wondering what could’ve been…

Maybe Allison was right, he considered ruefully, careening through the ice-covered streets of

downtown Denver. Gasoline and fire only mixed once, before you discovered the result could
become an uncontrollable inferno. Maybe their volatile attraction was more than either of them could
handle.

Damned if you do, damned if you don’t .
He didn’t like being backed into that corner. Maybe that’s how she’d felt tonight. Hell, he

didn’t know. And she sure wasn’t in the frame of mind to tell him.

Either way, she’d leave in six weeks—apparently this was what she always did, from what

he’d seen in her apartment.

He turned a sharp right into the Stone Security parking garage and steered toward her lone car

in the lot. “Here you are, safe and sound.” Lingering frustration darkened his tone. “Uncompromised.”

“So you think.” She reached for the door handle.
“Allison—”
She paused. He slapped his palm against the steering wheel, wrapped his fingers around the

curve, knuckles white. He looked away.

There was nothing left to say. The dead silence cued her to open the passenger door. She slid

out and slammed the door shut.

Pulling the collar of her coat up around her ears, she walked to her car. Her still-heated breath

frosted in the air making it hard to see. She fumbled for her keys.

Logan’s engine revved and he peeled out of the parking garage. She didn’t blame him, but it

served as the exclamation mark punctuating a dismal night. She blinked away the sudden swell of
tears.

On her way home, she stopped at the drug store—just to ease her mind. She didn’t need their

attraction and the fear of pregnancy hanging over her working relationship with Logan. She was sure
the test would read negative, just as it had the nights she’d held her breath and prayed her ex-husband
hadn’t gotten her pregnant during his leaves from duty. So far, the tests had offered overwhelming
relief, and she hoped the same of this one.

When she arrived home, she peed on the stick and then paced her tiny living room. “It’s nothing.

Stop worrying,” she told herself.

The past six weeks flashed through her mind.
At the recent security convention, she and Logan had struck up conversation several times,

since he kept miraculously appearing everywhere she went. Before the event ended he’d asked her to
join him at the hotel bar, refusing to take no for an answer. No harm, she’d figured. He was fantastic
eye-candy, full of wit and charm, and he’d lured her with the promise of a lucrative opportunity to use
her skills to further his company. His confidence, and her secret attraction to him, had led to great
conversation. It hadn’t taken long to see where things were headed. Her pent-up sexual desire won
out over her usual detachment. She hadn’t slept with a man since leaving Trevor four years ago.

She’d gladly let him talk her into stopping by his hotel room so he could go online and show her

his security systems. She’d known where that would probably lead. She’d gone anyway. She’d
wanted him to claim her, needed to feel his strong arms around her. She’d enjoyed his subtle,
seductive pursuit. It had been forever since she’d felt chemistry or attraction the way she did with
Logan.

Once they were alone, the second he’d touched her, she let all dormant desires out to play. The

muscular perfection of his body, the way her pleasure came first, and the appeal of no-strings-
attached bliss let her shed her fear of intimacy. His kisses promised long-denied pleasure, and his
mouth and body had delivered.

Pulling in a tight breath, she shoved those sexual thoughts from her mind. Yes, Logan was male

perfection. Yes, the way he touched her convinced her no man on the planet could make her feel the
way he did in bed.

That did not mean she’d give up the personal and psychological freedom awaiting her in France

for an affair of the heart. Her heart had led her down terrible paths. Had let her forgive people who
didn’t deserve forgiveness. She couldn’t lose her heart to someone again. All that led to was hurt and
betrayal.

She forced her restless steps toward the bathroom. She shut the door behind her.
Taking a deep breath, she exhaled. Assured herself everything was fine. She looked at the

results.

Two pink stripes.
Oh, God .
The truth slammed into her. She staggered back.
I’m pregnant…with Logan’s child .

CHAPTER 4

Allison trudged into work the next morning with all the enthusiasm of a death row inmate

heading to the gallows. Denial swirled thickly around her. Her mind erected a steel blockade to
shield her from the complications and staggering changes awaiting her. She was carrying Logan’s
baby.

As she walked into the building, the lobby looked too bright, the marble too shiny. A weightless

sensation took over as if she were moving under water. Muted voices echoed around her. People
bobbed in slow-motion. The elevator heading up was cramped, confining, unbearable. She got off on
the second floor and took the stairs to the eighth.

She went through the motions of the workday in a cloudy, surreal haze. Thank God she hadn’t

run into Logan yet. She had no idea what to say to him. How to tell him. If she should tell him at all.

A wretched taste hit the back of her throat at the thought. He deserved to know. She’d never

keep something like this from him. She just didn’t want to face him, his reaction, when she revealed
the truth.

Her legs moved like lead weights, carrying her about on menial missions, a series of mindless

errands filling the day. No demonstrations until Friday, thank goodness. She dreaded that, though,
knowing how close they’d be. She’d feel the heat of his body, the warmth of his touch, the sexy charm
of his smile. She’d want him all over again.

Don’t go there , she warned herself. It was pointless.
Last night’s events had certainly ended whatever might’ve been between them. They’d both

made that clear. The problem was they’d be forever linked with this baby. That anchor of reality
plunged her hopes of living fear-free in France to an unreachable abyss.

She’d already wrestled through the night with a deluge of shock, denial, resentment, amazement,

awe, devastation. About every conflicting feeling accessible to the human range of emotion, she’d
experienced.

Now she was plain exhausted. Numb. Wrung dry.
Returning from the second floor marketing office, she sank wearily into her chair. She closed

her eyes, resting her forehead on the back of her wrist.

Any sensible course of action eluded her, as though she floated alone on a life raft, seeing

nothing but endless ocean in every direction. Her options were bleak. Which heaped on horrible guilt
for not being happier about the small miracle inside her.

A baby . She placed her hand lightly on her abdomen. What right did she have to receive this

gift? What did she know about raising a child? She’d had no role models, no practice—she’d never
even given it a thought, too focused on France to consider anything else.

What do I do?
No answer came. Nothing. Her brain, her heart, and her soul had left the building. She was a

shell facing the crushing weight of the unknown.

Her office door sailed open. Devon breezed in. “Hey.” She grinned, her teeth bright within the

frame of her red lips. “Stopped by to see if Vivi Syndrome wore off yet.”

“That woman is the least of my problems.” Allison couldn’t meet her eyes.
Gaze narrowing shrewdly, Devon shut the door. “I noticed you and Logan left pretty quick.”
Allison nodded, said nothing.
“Are you okay? You look like hell warmed over.”
“Thanks.” Allison gave a hollow laugh. “About how I feel.”
“That bad?”
Tension tightened at her temples. She tried to respond, but the words stuck in her throat.
Devon’s back straightened with take-charge ambition. “I see a two-martini lunch in our near

future.” She glanced at her watch. “Make that happy-hour. It’s almost five-o’clock. Somewhere.”

“I wish.” Defeat clung to Allison.
Devon gave a decisive nod. “I’ll make the reservation immediately.”
“Don’t.” Allison stopped her. “I can’t.”
“Oh, please.” Devon rolled her eyes. “Logan’s not a slave driver. You can play hookie for one

afternoon.”

Allison shook her head wearily. “I mean, I can’t drink. And I’d be the worst company.”
“Drowning your sorrows at the bottom of a bottle is a perfectly fine coping mechanism. I highly

recommend it.”

Allison fixed her stare on her desk. “Not for the next nine months of my life.”
“What do you mean, the next nine—” Devon froze to the spot. “Don’t tell me you’re…”
“Yep. Pregnant. Yes, it’s Logan’s. Isn’t that wonderful?” Allison burst into tears.
“Oh, honey.” Compassion gentled Devon’s voice.
A strangely comfortable silence passed between them. No judgment, no pity, no questions. Just

quiet companionship. Allison’s gratefulness caused more tears to well up and spill down her cheeks.
Her eyes ached. Her throat was raw. The tears kept coming.

Devon picked up the nearby box of Kleenex handed her a tissue. Allison wiped her dripping

chin, feeling pathetic but surprisingly relieved. Like the sticky mess inside her had been scraped away
and life became a little cleaner, a little clearer.

Devon asked softly, “Does Logan know?”
“No.” Allison blew her noise. “Not yet.”
A wry note accompanied Devon’s tone. “I’d love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.”
“Me, too. Then I wouldn’t have to be in my own skin. An out-of-body experience sounds like

paradise compared to standing there, defenseless and alone, waiting for his reaction.”

“First of all, you’re not alone. Let’s clear that up right off the bat. Second—”
“I’ve always been alone.”
“Second,” Devon repeated firmly, “as far as defenses go, Logan’s not the type to lose it when

things really count. Sure, he’ll rant and rave up a storm if someone’s made a stupid mistake that cost
him a deal. But that’s business. When it comes to friends and family, he’s the guy you want on your
team.”

“I’m not a friend or family.”
“You are now.” Devon slid a meaningful glance to her abdomen.
“What if I don’t want a family? What if I’m not ready for any of this?”
“Buckle your seatbelt, sister. This ride’s already started.”
Allison’s chin trembled. Devon handed her another tissue. “I’m not Logan’s problem.”
Devon considered her. “Logan would sooner kick a wounded puppy as throw his pregnant

girlfriend out on the streets. It’s not in him. He doesn’t abandon or reject the people who need him. If
anything, his weakness is getting too involved, caring too much.”

“I’m not his girlfriend.” Resentful frustration grated on her. “He owes me nothing.” Defiance

straightened her spine. “Maybe I don’t want anything from him. Maybe it’s better if I walk away.”

Devon snorted. “Yeah, like he’d let that happen.”
A glimmer of hope rekindled in Allison. “If he doesn’t want this baby, I can still move to

France.”

Devon blinked at Allison’s sudden change of heart. “What’s in France?”
“The life that’s been waiting for me for four years.”
“You, you mean…” Devon stumbled over her words. “You have someone there?”
Allison shook her head at Devon’s misunderstanding. “Someone who’s not there.”
“Enlighten me.”
“That’s a long, ugly story.”
“I just cleared my schedule.
Allison gave a short sigh. “It’s not safe for me to stay in the States.”
“Logan’s good at keeping people safe. Have you noticed where we work?”
“I promised myself I’d never give a man control over my life again.” Warmth and color

returned to her insides. She stated decisively, “I’ll raise the baby in France by myself.”

“Heads up, honey. Logan won’t go for that, not for a minute. He takes care of his own.”
Allison crossed her arms. “I can take care of myself.”
“Not if you or your unborn child is in danger.” Devon’s lips pressed together in a moment of

thought. “We may not be maid-of-honor best friends, but I know this isn’t you. Why are you scared?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Allison said coolly, gathering familiar defenses around her like old

allies.

Bewilderment stamped Devon’s face. “You’d deny Logan’s rights as the father of this baby just

to get out of Dodge?”

“You don’t know my ex-husband,” Allison said darkly. “If he ever learned I was pregnant, with

another man’s child…” She shuddered to her bones. “France is my best—my only—option.”

Devon slapped her hands on her hips. “Now you’ve done it.” She shook her head. “Now I’m so

intrigued with the Darth Vader of your past, I must investigate him.”

Allison’s heart raced. “Don’t. Please .” She grasped Devon’s wrist as fear churned inside her.

Trevor possessed a ruthless ability to find her. He knew he was being watched by several foreign
countries. With his heightened paranoia, he constantly tracked whoever looked him up online or
Googled him. He’d orchestrated alerts sent to his email when his military files were accessed. And
he had the skill to uncover who made the inquiry. She’d seen it firsthand. Devon’s investigation
would lead Trevor straight to her. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. Just don’t try to find him
or contact him.” She wracked her brain to come up with something to stop her. “You said Vivi was
the Plague? Then Trevor is the Grim Reaper, scythe and all. I swear, Devon. He can’t find out about
this baby.”

“You know what that tells me?”
“What?” Allison rasped.
“You have no business being out there on your own. Whatever arrangement Logan offers, you

should take it. No matter how much you hate doing it. I’m serious. Logan may be the only real safety
you and your baby have.”

“Arrangement. God, that sounds so…demeaning. Might as well rip out my pride and smear it

across the floor.”

Devon pointed out evenly, “It sounds to me like your ex-husband already did that.”
Allison allowed her deep inner pain to come to the surface. The muscles in her face contracted

with agony. “When he was finished with me, I had nothing left, Devon. Nothing .”

“Things are better now, right? He’s out of your life.” Devon’s slim fingers rested on Allison’s

shoulder, a gesture of alliance. “No one can drag you back to that dark place again.”

“Never,” Allison confirmed. “I’m not that person anymore.”
Suddenly her computer dinged like a bell, alerting her to a new email message. She glanced at

her screen. It was from Logan. The subject line read: Be in my office in 30 . The tone was abrupt. A
one-line demand. “Lovely.”

“What is it?”
Allison’s shoulders drooped as the weight of uncertainty descended again. “Logan wants me in

his office in half-an-hour. He doesn’t sound happy.”

“He was never the honors English type. Don’t read into an email.” Devon sounded so sure of

that, so sure of everything. Then she suggested, “Take time to gather yourself. Go to your happy place.
Put on your brave-girl hat, and tell him the truth.”

“How?” Allison’s voice cracked.
“Don’t worry about the ‘how.’ Just state the facts so you can move on.”
“To what?” Allison asked raggedly.
Devon shrugged. “No idea, but at least you won’t be stuck in emotional purgatory.”
“I guess.” She knew Devon was right. I need to get this over with .
Before she reached the door, Devon turned. “I expect a phone call afterward.”
“Why?”
“I want to know how it went. That’s called support, Allison. It’s what friends do.”
Friends . The word made tears shimmer in her eyes. Her throat tight, she could only mouth the

words thank you .

Devon sent her an encouraging smile. “Talk to you later.”
The next thirty minutes passed with the momentum of a drunk slug. When clock on the wall read

3:30, she forced herself up from her desk and walked stiffly to Logan’s office. She reached his closed
door, unusual for Logan.

Summoning courage, she knocked.
“What?” Logan’s tone sounded as curt as his email.
She forced calm into her voice. “It’s Allison.”
“Come in.”
As she entered, she kept her gaze fixed on the carpet.
“Shut the door behind you,” he instructed.
Once she closed the door, she swallowed and looked up.
Logan sat forward in his chair wearing a severe expression, hands folded tightly on his desk

blotter. By contrast, Rick Dunn stood behind him, arms crossed and a smug grin curling his lips. Rick
wore the demeanor of a loan shark who’d come to collect. The recognition crept over her that she’d
waded into enemy waters.

“Have a seat.” Logan gestured one of the chairs opposite his desk.
“Make yourself comfy. You might be here awhile.” Rick shrugged. “Then again maybe not.”
She crossed the room and sat in one of the cold leather chairs. A shiver went through her.
They stared her down, their eyes like gun barrels aiming for the kill. She clenched her hands in

her lap. She’d almost rather face a real firing squad then endure the biting accusation in Logan’s tone
as he said, “I have a problem.”

I’ll trade you . She kept silent.
“I hired you because I believed you’d be an asset to me and Stone Security.”
She gave a tight nod.
“In light of new information, my belief has changed.”
Any hope of a reasonable conversation, even a glimmer of reconciliation, shriveled inside her.

“I don’t understand.”

Logan’s jaw clenched. “Allison, I spent the first half of my career in Special Forces hunting

down liars and enemies. I won’t have one working for me.”

Her cheeks burned as if he’d slapped her. “I’ve never lied to you.”
“We’re supposed to have a meeting in Washington D.C. on Friday with top military people, the

secretary of state, and ambassadors from three foreign countries.”

The demonstration she dreaded. “I’m aware.”
“That opportunity may be dead in the water.”
Surprise creased her forehead. She knew how much this meant to him, that it would be the

golden ticket to future government contracts totaling billions. “Why?”

He flattened his hands on his desk with eerie calm. “When they find out I’ve been demonstrating

this system with you, my company can kiss its reputation goodbye.”

Confounded by the accusation, she blinked. “What are you talking about?”
Logan took a sheet of paper in front of him and slid it across his desk. “Familiar?”
She caught the page and glanced at it, recognizing the photocopy of the government-issued

document, the bright-eyed hopeful picture of herself, her name listed as Mrs. Trevor Hurtz. “That
Visa is seven years old.”

“Your ties to Trevor Hurtz will spark questions, potentially an investigation. They’ll drill into

every aspect of your life—and mine—to find out if you’re harboring a fugitive who’s blacklisted in
France and under investigation for treason by the United Nations.”

“Why would anyone do that?”
Rick stepped forward. “You were in bed with a terrorist. An internationally convicted felon,

former U.S. Black Ops who was on trial for smuggling arms to Somalia, Syria and Iran.”

“I know nothing about that.” She flicked the offensive page back to Logan. “I don’t understand

the problem. When I married Trevor I became a citizen here. I’m also a naturalized citizen in France,
where I was born.”

“You just applied for a new passport six weeks ago. Coincidence?” Rick was fishing for

something, but he hesitated like he hadn’t baited her on his hook yet. She went rigid.

“Yes, under my maiden name, Allison Dupree.”
Rick plopped a stack of pages in front of her. “On every piece of paper here, Hurtz gives one

personal contact—you.”

“We were married . Isn’t your wife your emergency contact?”
“Why are you still on his?”
“I’m not.”
Exhausted, it took all her effort to stand up to Rick. Logan sat there cold and silent. So much for

Devon’s belief that Logan cared about people who were hitting the skids. She’d been tried and
convicted by these men before she’d stepped in the room. The reminder that she couldn’t count on
anyone except herself butchered her budding tendrils of trust.

“The fact is,” Rick said, stalking up to her, invading her space, “you’re a liability. You’ve put

everyone in Stone Security at risk, and this company could be put under investigation. Because of
you.”

The closer he leaned, the more her chair became a prison. She slid out from under him and

pushed to her feet. Bitterness ran like acid in her veins. Standing up for herself, she insisted,
“Whatever contact information Trevor has for me is nonexistent. I haven’t seen or spoken to him in
two years. He has no idea where I am. I work hard to keep it that way.”

Logan rose slowly, drawing her glance. A light dawned in his light-brown eyes, as if her

statement unlocked a puzzle he’d been trying to solve.

No surprise, Rick refused to take her word. “Not hard enough, because—”
“Rick.” Logan’s controlled voice sliced through the hostility. “Stop.”
The warning went unheeded. “Your divorce papers only have one signature. Yours.”
“In the state of Pennsylvania, that was all it took.” The broken feeling inside her, when she’d

walked into the courtroom that day, came back fresh. The criticisms Rick hurled ripped open old
wounds. Her voice was a raw sound. “Why are you doing this?”

Suddenly, Logan was at her side. “There’s been a misunderstanding.”
Rick fumed. “Like hell.” He returned his attention to her as she braced for another verbal

lashing. “Your past compromises everything we are, everything we’ve worked for. And you knew it
the moment you walked through the door.”

“Back down.” Logan stepped in front of her, shielding her behind him. “ Now .” His tone was

low and lethal.

“You’re defending her? After the proof I’ve given you?”
Proof?
Icy suspicion poured down her spine. She glanced at the stack of papers on the desk. Trevor’s

military record, other government-issued documents...

“I’ve heard your argument.” Logan sounded far away, drowned out by the ringing in her ears.

“Now, I want her side.”

“Oh, my God.” Terror sheeted across her flesh. “What have you done?”
“Due diligence.” Rick scowled at Logan. When he turned his stare to her, his face released

some of its harshness. “You okay?”

Her vision clouded white. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. Like a statue facing a tidal wave

of destruction, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

“Allison.” She vaguely heard Logan at the edges of her consciousness. He grasped her arm.

“What’s wrong?”

She scraped out a whisper. “Everything.” Her hand went to her abdomen protectively. She

turned wide eyes to Logan, then Rick. “You just killed me and my baby.”

She swayed.
Facing her, Logan cupped her shoulders. “What did you say?”
“Our baby—”
Suddenly, she passed out. He caught her, supporting her limp body. “Allison?”
Logan wasn’t sure what he’d heard. He wanted her to repeat it back to him, slowly. Every

syllable. But he needed her awake to do that.

Ignoring the way Rick raked his hand through his hair impatiently, Logan scooped her into his

arms and carried her to a plush wingback chair, one of two positioned against the far wall flanking a
narrow mahogany console.

“This is a ploy,” Rick muttered.
“I don’t think so.” Logan touched the back of his hand to her forehead. It came away clammy.

“Something triggered this reaction.” He believed he knew the source.

The missing pieces of her story that had bothered him—her bare-bones apartment, the packed

boxes in her closet, her constant vigilance—came at him from a new angle. Just now she’d said she
worked hard to keep her ex-husband from knowing where she was. That’s when it all made sense.
She was terrified of the man. The sort of terror he’d seen in women’s eyes in Rwanda after warlords
sent minions into the bush to rape, kill and torture at will. A shudder went through him.

His security instincts kicked in. “Rick, what resources did you use to trace the background on

Allison?”

He expelled a breath. “What does it matter?”
“Tell me.” Logan’s reserve of patience ran dangerously low.
“You know, the usual. Public government docs, court records, international intel.”
“How did you pull the searches?”
“Internet. Online news clips.” Rick shrugged.
“Hell.” Logan’s blood churned. Allison had reason to fear Rick’s prying. Trevor Hurtz had a

past in Black Ops that came with an armory of specialized tactics, known to only two-percent of the
population. From what Logan had read when Rick handed him the file, Hurtz was a pro. The man’s
skills ranged from communications espionage to sniper training. And he’d gone to the dark side. Hurtz
knew how to trace inquiries on him. Straight back to the source. He was a wanted man, a trained
killer. Logan grew sick with remorse.

“You’re a real bastard sometimes,” Logan muttered over his shoulder.
“Excuse me?” Rick coughed. “ I’m the bastard?”
Allison’s eyelashes fluttered. Logan held up his hand. “Shush, she’s coming to.”
“Good. I have questions that need answers.”
Logan gritted his teeth. “You’ll shut up until I tell you different.”
“Did you just draw a line in the sand?”
Logan nodded. “Cross it, and you’ll wish you never knew me.”
Rick huffed with indignation. “What the hell’s gotten into you?”
Logan sank onto his haunches in front of Allison. He swept her hair back from her damp

forehead. “You’re all right, Allison.” She blinked awake, eyes dazed. Then her face registered a
resurgence of panic. “Easy, sweetheart.” He touched her gently, soothing away the fear. “Don’t try to
sit up yet. Take it slow.”

Rick smacked his forehead. “Unbelievable.” He paced and muttered under his breath. “Try to

do a guy a favor…the thanks I get…looking out for the company…then because of some chick…”

Logan leaped to his feet, whirled on Rick. “Get. Out. Before I throw you out.”
Rick stormed off.
Focusing on Allison again, Logan leaned in coaxing gently. “It’s just you and me now. You’re

safe.” He tried to ease her through the transition from unconsciousness back to the world of hostility
and fear that had overwhelmed her. “Everything’s okay.”

As she regained her grip on the present, she seized up. “It’s not okay, Logan.” The way she

cupped her abdomen caused him to arch an eyebrow. “Everything is a mess.”

“What were you saying before?” he urged. “Something about a baby?” For some reason he had

trouble breathing.

A wretched look stole over her features. “I didn’t want to tell you like this.”

“Tell me what.”
“Logan, I’m pregnant.” She chocked back a sob. “And you’re the father.”

CHAPTER 5

Logan’s heart came to a standstill.
Pregnant?
Slowly, the news penetrated.
Allison was pregnant with his child.
Awe swelled in his chest. Archaic triumph awakened inside him.
Unexpected? Yes. Unwanted? God, no.
Suddenly, his world centered on a hope he’d forgotten to wish for. Something that had crossed

his mind but he’d dismissed, his focus on building his business. There hadn’t been time to pursue
anything else. Honestly, he’d assumed since he hadn’t found the right woman or the right situation, a
family wasn’t going to happen for him. He’d been okay with that.

But now…
That faded hope came into sharp focus. Everything he’d thought was important before drifted

away like a handful of feathers. All that mattered was Allison and this baby.

“It’s okay.” He said it to her as much as to himself, as it all sank in. “We’ll figure it out.”
Recognition flared of what now threatened this awakening dream. A danger Rick had created

like a one-man wrecking ball, when he should’ve stayed the hell out of it.

At the same time, Rick’s logical retaliation came at him hard—that Allison could be making up

the pregnancy to blind Logan to a bigger, darker truth. He hesitated.

Then he looked at Allison.
Shoulders hunched, she stared at him with eyes full of dread. She appeared on the verge of

weeping.

No, she wasn’t faking this. Logan dropped to his knees and cupped her face. “We’ll be okay,

sweetheart.”

“How?” Her disbelief crushed him.
“We’ll work it out.” He kissed her forehead. His mind flashed to the past two hours, the

suspicion and doubt he’d caved into so easily—shame on him—and the threat Rick had dredged up by
pawing into her past. “I have to take care of something.”

He dug out his cell phone and made a call to the manager who headed the bodyguard division of

Stone Security. “Send a detail up to my office. Yes, one of our security guards. Yes , my office. No
one comes in or out except me.”

“Where are you going?” Allison asked, worry clinging to her words.
“To hand Rick his ass.”
“Don’t leave. Please.” Her green eyes were misty like a field after a thunderstorm. “It’s not

Rick’s fault. He didn’t know. No one was ever supposed to know.” A tear leaked from the corner of
her eye.

Reaching out, he brushed it away. “Sit tight. I’ll be back before you know it.”
Heading for the door, he flung it open. He marched into the hallway and collided with a dark-

haired whirling dervish. “Geez, Logan. Watch where you’re going.” Devon dusted herself off. “I’m
glad I ran into you. You’ve got to tell Rick to back off his Spanish Inquisition,” she demanded.”

“Exactly what I’m doing.”
“Logan, every piece of intel on Trevor Hurtz is laced with encryptions and alerts that lead back

to an untraceable IP address. The man has his online information strapped with virtual tripwire.”

“That’s what I figured.” He returned on course.
Devon grasped his arm, tugging him until he stopped to shake her off. “What?”
“Listen to me. Your girl is scared to death and she should be. Trevor’s a pro. I’ve never seen

anything like him.” Devon’s dark eyes widened. “Did you know the first year of their divorce she
took out three restraining orders on Trevor Hurtz—and he broke every one?”

Logan’s jaw clenched. “Come with me.”
Devon’s heels clicked behind him. Reaching the end of the hall, he shoved into Rick’s office

and pointed a finger at his chest. “You just hit a hornet’s nest with a sledge hammer.”

“I’ll say.” Devon set her hands on her hips. “I hope you’re happy, Dunn. Because whatever

favor you thought you were doing for Logan has jeopardized this entire company.”

“You’ve backed us into a corner,” Logan stated.
Rick glared. “Now you two think Allison walks on water, and I’m the problem?”
“Yes,” Logan and Devon said simultaneously.
Rick’s nostrils flared. “She turned both of you against me.” He grunted. “Should’ve seen that

coming.”

“What you didn’t see coming,” Logan said, getting in Rick’s face, “is a man who’ll stop at

nothing to find and take back what he thinks is his.”

Rick scoffed. “Let him have her. One less thing to worry about.”
Logan’s chest heaved at the idea. “No way in hell.”
Devon paced, her hands waving frantically. “Of all the days to take your idiot pill, Rick, you

pick this one.”

Rick crossed his arms. “It can’t be that big a deal.”
Logan sent him a look threatening dismemberment. “You have no goddamn idea.”
“Out of my way.” Devon bumped Rick aside and commandeered his laptop. “I’ll show you

what you’ve done.” She talked as she typed. “ARIN.net maintains records of owners of all IP
addresses.”

Rick lowered his eyebrows doubtfully. “Every single one?”
“Here’s Stone Security’s chunk of the ARIN pie.” She showed them the ongoing list of

addresses for all the people in the company and affiliated with them.

Rick shrugged. “So?”
“Each time you clicked on Trevor Hurtz’s name, an alert was sent to one IP address. I tracked it

as far as I could, but it leads to the Caribbean. The Bermuda Triangle of IP addresses. The address is
untraceable, but I’ll bet you coconuts to cow turds it belongs to Trevor Hurtz.” Devon stared at Rick
pointedly. “That means with each search you made on Trevor, you left a breadcrumb trail right back
to Stone Security. Won’t take him more than a week to connect the dots and realize Allison is here.”

Rick balked. “All that, from a few searches?”
“That,” Devon scolded, “is why I’m chief information officer, not you.”
Rick cursed softly. “I was just trying to—”
“Help,” Logan supplied. “I know, but this could turn ugly. Fast.”
“Now that you both have a heads-up, I’m going back to my office to run a few programs, see if I

can’t head him off at the pass.” Devon shrugged. “Wherever that is.” She swept out of the room on a
mission.

Rick rubbed his scalding red neck. “Look, Logan…”
Arms crossed, Logan waited.
“I’m sorry, man. It wasn’t supposed to go down like this. It’s not like I hacked into the CIA.”
“Maybe you should’ve. Then we’d know what we’re really up against with Hurtz.”
“I’ll make some calls.” Rick grabbed the phone on his desk and dialed a memorized number.

“Some people still owe me favors in the Pentagon.”

Thirty minutes later, with the help of old contacts, Logan and Rick pieced together enough

information to map out a solution. One that required around-the-clock protection for Allison.

Rick scrubbed a hand down his face. He said raggedly, “I had no idea her ex was a bona fide

psycho.”

Logan released a heavy sigh. “Can you blame her for wanting to keep it quiet? Anyone who gets

too close or asks too many questions faces a world of hurt he never saw coming.”

“What are you going to do?”
“The only thing I can.” Logan shrugged. “I’m moving her in with me.”
Rick coughed. “You’re kidding.”
“Care to test that?”
At the steely response, Rick held up his hands. “Okay, fine. Not joking. But don’t you think—”
“Haven’t you given enough bad advice for one day?”
Sitting back, Rick stared mutely at his desk.
Logan stood and buttoned his suit jacket. “Now I just need to convince the most stubborn

woman I’ve ever met that, to stay safe, I’m her only option.”

This is one argument I look forward to winning . As he left Rick’s office, resolution forged

inside him. He nodded to the security guard stationed outside his door. Mind whirling with lawyer-
like precision, he walked through his door.

His office was empty. He stopped, looked at the door, looked back at the vacant room. He

confronted the guard. “Where is she?”

“You mean the blonde? She was late for an appointment.”
“And you let her leave?” Logan roared. “Your orders were not to let anyone in or out . How

was that unclear?”

The man paled. “She—I—she said she had a plane to catch, and if I didn’t let her leave I’d foot

her bill. She told me the office would be safe.”

“It isn’t my office I care about.” Damn it . “Get out of here,” he ordered the guard.
The guard managed to follow that directive. Logan slammed his door. Then opened it again and

stalked toward Allison’s office. He found it empty. He bit his thumb nail as he paced. He returned to
his office and logged into his personal Stone Security account, standing as he typed. He’d put Allison
on his account number when he’d upgraded the system in her apartment. He didn’t want her paying for
safety he would give her for free. It also sent him alerts if her system was breached.

At the time, he hadn’t expected to use the information to spy on her, but this was important. He

wasn’t going to let her take off to God-knew-where before they had a chance to talk. Come up with
options. Discuss and make decisions together. He had a say in his child’s future. Allison’s days of
flying solo were over.

He accessed the online feed, waited for the download then checked her system’s history. She

hadn’t set the code since eight that morning. She hadn’t gone home. He didn’t blame her, with Hurtz

now lurking in her subconscious fears. Logan programmed any change in her system’s status to send a
text to his cell phone.

His mind churned, grasping for options. He needed someone with connections to air travel. He

scrolled through his phone’s contacts list until he found a number he hadn’t dialed in a while. The line
picked up.

“Angie, it’s Logan Stone.”
“Well, hey there, gorgeous,” Angie purred on the other end. “It’s about time you called.”
“I need a favor.”
“Mmm, me too.” She gave a silky laugh. “I’m between flights in Houston. Give me two hours to

arrange travel to Denver. Your house, around eight?”

Logan arched an eyebrow. “Uh, no. Not that kind of favor.”
“That’s a shame,” she pouted. Finally, she sighed. “Okay, what else can I help you with?”
“I need you to check international travel out of Denver. Flights leaving between five and

midnight. Passenger name is Allison Dupree.” Then he added, “Or Allison Hurtz.” He wanted to
cover all bases.

Angie paused. “Let me make some calls. I’ll get back to you.”
“Thanks, Angie.”
“You owe me.” Her insinuation left him cold. He punched the end-call button.
Strange, how a woman who’d once turned him on meant nothing. Angie was a good-looking

redhead, with a body that wouldn’t quit, but his libido’s former response didn’t register, not even a
flicker of appeal.

That was new.
He ran a hand down his face. Damn, Rick was right. Allison had gotten to him on a level that

didn’t compare to other women. She was the one he wanted, the only one who made him burn with
need. Where the hell was she?

After twenty minutes, Angie called back. Logan gripped his phone. “Anything?”
“Sorry, Logan. There’s no one named Dupree or Hurtz with a plane ticket for a flight out of

Denver tonight.”

Relief poured through him. “That’s good news. Thanks, Angie.”
“Call me again, sometime—?”
Logan hung up before she finished her sentence. Rude, considering the weight she’d lifted off

his mind. But a new weight took its place.

He had a missing pregnant woman on his hands.
He moved down the hall toward Devon’s office. She was his go-to girl when he needed help

with the female psyche.

Devon’s chair was empty, her coat and laptop gone. “Did everyone suddenly take the afternoon

off?” He looked at his watch. It was four-thirty. He made a sound of frustration.

He wondered who Allison would turn to in Denver if she had a problem. Obviously, it wasn’t

him. The answer stared him in the face, in the form of Devon’s empty seat. Devon wouldn’t side
against him.

Would she?
A muscle ticked in his jaw. He grabbed his coat, yanked out his car keys then hit speed-dial on

his phone.

Only one way to find out .

*

“One night, Devon. That’s all I’m asking.” Allison tried not to sound desperate.
She hated turning to anyone for help. However, she needed a safe place to mull over recent

experiences—not alone in her apartment. Right now she didn’t know which way was up, or how to
find the light at the end of this dark tunnel.

“I’m not ready to face Logan yet.” Or what will happen when he changes his mind about me .

Her ex-husband had driven it into her like a stake through her chest that no man could tolerate her,
except him.

Devon sighed. “I’m not good at playing the go-between. I have too much of an opinion.”
“I respect that,” Allison said. “I’m not trying to put a wedge between you and Logan. I just need

time.”

“How much time?” Devon asked as she poured herself a glass of red wine.
“Until I have it figured out.”
“That may not happen.”
“I’ll be closer to the answer tomorrow.” She needed a buffer between Logan’s strong-willed

personality and her own uncertain stance. Why couldn’t he be a jerk, denied paternity and left her free
and clear?

The warm white furball that was Devon’s little Yorkie put its head on Allison’s lap, staring up

at her with big, dark, soulful eyes. He nudged her hand with his wet nose, then dozed blissfully as she
petted him. “See? Peanut believes me.”

“Peanut’s loyalty lies with whoever has bacon or pets him.” Devon’s cell phone buzzed across

her kitchen counter like a Mexican jumping bean. “It’s Logan again.”

“Don’t answer it.”
“I have to before he wears out my charge. You know how stubborn he is.”
“I’m well aware,” Allison said wearily.
“Then own up to it and make your own demands. He doesn’t have to call all the shots.”
“He can’t help himself.”
“If you don’t talk to him, nothing will be solved.”
Allison clenched her hands in the fleece. “Fine, give me the phone.”
Devon tossed it to her like a hot potato. The second it buzzed in her hand, Allison flinched.

Hesitantly, she answered. “Hello.”

“Do you have any idea how worried I am about you?” Logan stormed out of the gate. “Where

have you been?”

“I’m hanging in there, thanks for asking.” Disdain dripped from her tone. “It’s nice to hear from

you, too.”

“You and I need to have a conversation. Now.”
“I don’t take well to commands,” she replied crisply.
“It’s a lot better than what’s coming.”
Rising stomach acid left a sting in her throat. “Don’t threaten me.”
“I meant I’m a better alternative than your ex-husband.”
“Sure you did.”
“Allison.” He exhaled. “Don’t you know by now I’m on your side?”
“That remains to be seen.” Didn’t he understand by now she failed at relationships?
“What the hell do you want from me?”
“Space. Time. Sorry, is that too much to ask?”
“You’ve had twenty-four hours to process this pregnancy bombshell, and you’re running scared.

I’ve had two hours and I’m totally fine with it.”

“You’re special. Congratulations.”
He ignored the sarcasm. “Give me a chance, Allison. We can make this work.”
Tears collected behind her eyes. “How?”
“That’s what we have the next nine months to figure out.” A smile tinted his words. She didn’t

share his amusement. Then he added, “Trust me.”

The absolute wrong thing to say. Her defenses shot up, a storm gathering inside her. “Trust you?

After you sided with Rick against me? You threw me under the bus, Logan. Like you did last night.”
She swallowed hard. “You didn’t even talk to me before you took a Rototiller to my past and dragged
out the skeletal remains of my marriage. It never occurred to you to ask?”

“Any time I did, you shut me out.” Logan’s temper was rising. “I made a mistake. I didn’t know

the whole story.”

He had a point. She was good at shutting down when a man came too close or meant too much.

Her defenses didn’t care to debate the issue. “When I decide to trust someone, I’ll know that trust
isn’t conditional.”

After a pause, Logan stated softly, “Stick around, and I’ll prove it to you.”
“We’ll see.”
He scoffed with disbelief. “So you won’t talk to me. You won’t give me a chance to figure

things out with you.”

“Tonight? No.” Dead silence met her statement. The pause lengthened to the point of

uncomfortable. “Logan?”

“Oh, I’m here.” He was not happy. “You know what? You go ahead. Take all the time in the

world. I’ll just do what I have to do.”

“What does that mean—?”
Click . Dial tone.
Allison stared at the phone, then at Devon. “He hung up on me.”
Devon released a dramatic sigh. “I admit it’s frustrating to sit on the sidelines watching the

game being played all wrong. On the other hand, people have to figure the rules out for themselves.

Allison nodded. “Thank you.”
Devon pushed away from her kitchen counter. “Now what? We sit around shoving our faces

with popcorn and watching chick flicks all night?”

Nerves relaxing, Allison gave a cheeky grin. “Sounds perfect.”
Rolling her eyes, Devon set her wine on the coffee table and plopped down on the couch.

“Can’t I sell you on an intergalactic space battle?”

“Nope.”
“What about a good down and dirty thriller?”
Allison cringed. “No way.”
“Chick flicks it is.” Devon grabbed the remote. A wink ruined her scowl. “The things I do for

friends.”

*

The next morning, Allison shut her car door and stood before her apartment building. The pale

November sunrise leaked through the clouds like puss from a bruise. A shaky feeling started in her gut
and radiated to every limb. She shivered uncontrollably.

Something wasn’t right.
The knowing began when she woke an hour ago in unfamiliar surroundings. Even though

Devon’s beautiful townhouse was a hundred times better than the sterile box Allison called home,
she’d broken into a cold sweat when she’d jerked awake and couldn’t place where she was. In the
darkness, it had all come flooding back. Her heart had pounded recklessly, recalling yesterday’s
events. Her fears of Logan’s reaction to her pregnancy. Her disbelief in his acceptance. Learning Rick
had dragged her ex-husband back into her life, shredding the years of solitary confinement and
vigilance she’d perfected. All so Rick could prove she was an imposter. And in a way, she was. Rick
didn’t need to go digging. She’d faked normalcy for so long that living a lie was natural. She’d
shoved down her own hopes and desires, waiting until she stepped off the plane in Paris to reinvent
herself.

Now, there was no chance of starting over clean and safe and free.
Devon was right. Logan would never let her go.
Allison felt trapped all over again.
Staring up at the door of her apartment, she willed herself to move forward. Dread dragged her

feet as she climbed the stairs. She wondered, could Trevor have located her by now?

Imagination taking over, she could almost see the shadows give way as she opened the door,

revealing the cold dark eyes of true evil. Trevor’s form sitting on her couch, deceptively relaxed as
she walked in and met his unholy grin, as he said, “Welcome home, wife.”

A shiver trembled across her shoulders. She paused on the landing. She wanted to call Logan,

knowing if anything happened he’d move the Rocky Mountains to get between her and harm’s way.

The thought struck a chord of bravery inside her. She didn’t need a man to chase away her

ghosts. This was her place, she was in control.

She marched up to the door. She unlocked the deadbolts and pushed inside, ready to confront

the devil himself.

The scene before her was nothing like she’d pictured. Her jaw dropped.
Her apartment was empty. Cleaned out. A few lazy specks of dust drifted in and out of the

morning light. That was all.

“What the…?”
Immediately, she went to her security alarm. The system hummed along innocently, unaware of

her shock and incomprehension.

“Hello?” she called out. Empty echoes returned to her.
Throwing her purse over her shoulder, she clutched it like a defensive weapon, prepared for

whatever might leap out of the shadows. Nothing did. She confirmed her entire apartment was barren,
devoid of any proof she’d ever been there at all.

A tiny crack edged its way up the center of her heart. Bereft of the few belongings she owned,

she might as well have been wiped off the face of the earth.

Her arm dropped to her side, purse dragging on the floor. Her spirit deflated as if the wind of

endurance had abandoned her sails. “Who could’ve done this?”

Instinct took her back to her security system. Absorbed with her dark worries, she hadn’t

realized it wasn’t beeping when she walked in her door. Someone had tampered with it. That was the
only explanation.

An edgy sensation came over her. Trevor didn’t have the skill to disarm a system as complex as

one of Stone Security’s. Only one person who could’ve pulled off this heist. Without anyone knowing
the wiser.

Logan .
Allison didn’t lock the door behind her. There was nothing to keep in, and no one to keep out.

Frustrated tears stung her eyes. She hated that feeling, the regret that clenched inside like fists of

rage.

How dare he?
Logan. The one person she hoped wouldn’t behave like her ex had cast himself in a new light.

Hell-bent and ruthless.

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.”

CHAPTER 6

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 on 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 beat irregular. 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 can 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 down 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 a wishful 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 her 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 may 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.

As she walked up the wide stone steps, she stood before his doorbell and paused. This was too

much to take in all at once.

Suddenly, Logan emerged from an interior hallway. Her pulse kicked up again.
A glass of red wine cradled in one hand, he moved toward the door with confident strides. He

wore his striped work shirt un-tucked, sleeves rolled back on his forearms. Well-fitted jeans clasped
muscular thighs and bunched slightly at his feet. Her gaze lingered there.

The intimacy of seeing his bare feet reminded her of the night they spent together. She knew

every taut, tanned muscle under his clothes. Her lips tingled, remembering how brazen she’d been,
running her tongue down the grooves of his six-pack abs, and later molding her hands around his
spectacular biceps that strained as he’d drove deep inside her.

A hot breath escaped her and clouded in her face. Pulling herself back to cold reality, she

blamed pregnancy hormones for the primal pull of attraction that made him irresistible, the ultimate
masculine provider. She blushed. We don’t live in the ice ages. I don’t need a man to take care of
my basic needs . Her body had a different opinion.

Logan d swung open his door. His dazzling smile greeted her with potent impact. “Perfect

timing.”

Several snarky comments came to mind, but she couldn’t push them past her lips. “For what?”
Then her mind went numb, all attention focused on the warm, delicious scents wafting from

inside. Her stomach grumbled loudly in the silence of falling snow.

He tugged her inside. “I promised you dinner. It’ll be ready soon. But first, the tour.”

She sent him a questioning look. “I want you to know the layout of my place so you can go where you
want, as you please. I want you to be comfortable here. With me.”

Words escaped her as he set his wine down on the glass-top table in the foyer, unzipped her

coat and slid it down her arms. A slow undressing that sent tingles across her shoulders. He hung her
coat in the entryway closet, set her purse on the table, picked up his glass and motioned toward the
kitchen. “I have a plate of hors d’oeuvres to hold us over. Half-an-hour until the chicken’s done,
fifteen minutes for the steaks to broil.”

At the promise of food, she followed at his heels. “Thank you. I’m starved.”
“I thought you might be.” She walked into his gourmet kitchen of glass tile and stainless-steel

everything. “Had to make sure it wasn’t caviar or sushi or steak tartare, my usual go-to appetizers. I

read that the bacteria in raw food can be dangerous for pregnant women.”

It was? She cringed, realizing how much she didn’t know about being pregnant. Thank

goodness one of them had a clue. For the first time, she acknowledged how much easier it was with a
partner, someone she could count on, going through this new and exciting and terrifying experience
alongside her. A warm rush of gratitude filled her heart. “I appreciate that.”

The appetizer tray on his granite countertop looked like a work of art. Creamy dip nestled in the

center of a huge saucer ringed with colorful vegetables and rolled cold-cuts.

“This looks amazing.” Without waiting for an invitation like a polite person, she dove into the

delectable tray.

He ran a hand through his hair, leaving him with a rumpled sexy look. “I can’t take credit for

that. I picked up the tray from a caterer.”

“Is the dinner that smells so good take-out?”
“Nope.”
“No caterer or personal chef?”
“All me, sunshine.” He grinned. “Believe it or not, a guy gets sick of pizza and chicken wings.

That’s when he learns how to make the good stuff.”

“Impressive,” she said around a mouthful of food.
After five solid minutes of stuffing her face, she paused and scrounged up the decency to put

back that sixth turkey-and-cream-cheese wheel. “You said something about a tour?”

“This way.” He motioned her to follow him.
The lure of food had blinded her to all else. Hunger sated for the moment, she glanced around

the open floor plan, a cavernous space that combined the kitchen, dining room and great room. A giant
fireplace of natural stone held the focal point in the great room. Subtle textures and muted colors
filled in the gaps to offer a deceptively simple, rustic experience.

“Whoever you hired as your decorator must’ve known you well.” The design resonated with his

personality.

“I worked closely with her,” was all he said.
Allison wondered if he’d been romantically involved with the woman. Probably. Only a lover

would understand his nuances and preferences. She experienced a sting of jealousy picturing another
woman spending time with him physically, creatively and intimately until she knew every facet of
him, well enough to recreate him on the canvass of his home.

“How nice for you,” she muttered.
Nature-inspired abstract paintings hung on walls of taupe and sage green, which complimented

the earthy dark-leather furniture. Then there were pops of color, rust and persimmon accents in the
artwork and pillows on his u-shaped sofa.

She recognized his scent of ginger-spice and pine permeating the air. Soothing, comforting.

Despite the spaciousness, she felt like she’d walked into a hug.

To her amazement the design appealed to masculine and feminine tastes. She liked his home

more than she’d expected. First, they scaled the massive curving staircase to the second floor.
Unadorned windows looked out onto the wooded landscape, where strategically placed outdoor
lighting made the bare branches and winter scene inviting. He showed her the spacious bedrooms,
two at one end, two at the other.

As they entered the fourth bedroom and he flipped on the light, a smile lit her face. “My things!”
She recognized the furnishings from her apartment, her desk overlooking the bank of windows,

her bookcase against the far wall, pictures of her parents propped on a dresser. He’d taken the liberty

of upgrading her bed to a king-sized dream, something out of a magazine, topped with a sage-and-
lavender bedspread, anchored by a whimsical iron-scrolled headboard. On the walls hung framed
black and white scenes of European cities, Paris, London, Rome, plus a few artistic photos of the
French countryside.

“I love it,” she whispered.
“I wanted it to feel like…home.”
It felt more like home than when she’d lived in those places. He’d captured her essence in the

tranquil beauty of this room. A lump formed in her throat. “I don’t know what to say.”

A soft silence surrounded them. Comfort enfolded her.
“Tour’s not over.”
He guided her down two flights to the basement. Which could’ve been a 3,000 square-foot

house unto itself. A kitchen, two baths and a family room sprawled before her boasting a Cadillac-
sized flat screen TV flanked by built-in shelves filled with sports paraphernalia. The other doors led
to a full gym—which he obviously used daily—a movie theater with recliners and surround sound,
and an industrial room that housed the security equipment and a dozen camera monitors. Not to
mention the temperature-controlled wine cellar with hundreds of gleaming bottles, the mood set with
pendant lighting and travertine mosaic tiles from Italy.

“In my wildest dreams, I never could’ve envisioned a home like this.” She turned circles

viewing the space. “You have everything you could ever want, right here.”

“Almost everything.”
The cryptic words caught her attention. Her gaze shot to him. Before she could read his

expression, he turned and headed upstairs. She followed him to the main floor, which boasted a regal
yet comfortable sitting room leading out to an enclosed greenhouse, a library, an office, and finally
his first floor master suite.

Nervousness slowed her steps and she lingered in the doorway. A high slanted ceiling with

exposed rough-hewn beams mirrored the architecture of his A-frame great room. Except the accent
wall showcasing his king sleigh bed was a deeper shade of green, and the accent lighting shed an
intimate amber glow.

“It’s lovely.” She hesitated then turned to go.
“Wait. You haven’t seen the best part.” His eyes twinkled. Curiosity overwhelmed her. She

carefully treaded across the cream carpet until his master bath sprawled before her.

She’d walked into a spa. Floor-to-ceiling stone tiles were accented by sea-green glass. A glass

partition revealed an inviting steam shower with a dozen spray heads to mimic a waterfall. A soaking
tub looked out over the backyard. Two floating sinks were mounted into the wall for an ultimate
modern effect. To complete the scene, in the corner a fountain gurgled, surrounded by fragrant
orchids.

“Good God,” she murmured.
Logan beamed with pride. “Not bad, huh?”
She shook her head, beyond awe. “How much do you charge by the day in this resort?”
“For you?” He rubbed his chin. “I think we can work out a special arrangement.” He winked.
“It could take years to explore every square foot of this place.”
“I hope so.”
Uncomfortable with the weight of his stare, she backed toward the door. “Thanks for the tour.”
“Feel free to explore. Anytime.” He strolled out of his bedroom into the hallway. “Nothing’s

off limits.”

While the gesture was magnanimous, she sensed a dual meaning his words. Particularly with

regard to his bedroom. The notion sent desire spiraling through her abdomen.

He passed her in the hall.
Then suddenly he turned. She bumped into him. He cupped her face and sealed his over to hers.

His thumbs brushed her cheeks, his mouth urgent, consuming. Then he slowly lifted his head.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said. He laced his fingers through hers and led her to the kitchen.
Tiny ripples of pleasure spread through her. She wanted to tug him back and encourage him to

deliver on that promising kiss.

That was until the tantalizing scents of dinner received a standing ovation from her stomach.

They could’ve heard the hunger pangs in the next county.

“Still hungry?” he asked with a grin.
Bashful, she shrugged. “Apparently.”
“Good. I want you to enjoy this.”
He could’ve set a plate of liverwurst in front of her and she would’ve inhaled it. Thankfully, he

had better options.

The prosciutto-wrapped stuffed chicken breasts and horseradish-encrusted filets that he pulled

from the double ovens left her salivating. He added herbed new potatoes and sautéed zucchini to her
plate and it looked like heaven.

“Go ahead.” He nodded toward the dining room.
She sat down and stared at her plate like it was the Last Supper. She managed to wait. He

entered a minute later with a full glass of wine and a bottle of Pellegrino. He frowned. “I told you to
go ahead.”

“I’m the guest. The least I can do is wait for you to sit down, after you’ve created this amazing

meal.”

“You’re not a guest.” He set down his wine and poured the sparkling mineral water into her

glass. “You need to get used to this.”

“To personal-chef dinners and being waited on hand and foot? Not likely.”
He stared at her beneath the shelf of his brow. “Like I said, get used to it.”
She refused to touch her food until he sat down across from her with his own steaming plate. He

exhaled. “Allison, you’re eating for two. I don’t expect you to hold out on my account. I’ve heard
about the ravenousness that takes hold when you least expect. You need to obey your body when it
tells you you’re hungry.”

“I am so ready to obey.” She grabbed her fork and steak knife and attacked her dinner. As the

juices soaked into her tongue, she rolled her eyes and groaned with her mouth full. “God, that’s
good.”

He sent her a sly smile. “If you like dinner, wait until the next course.”
“Don’t bother me,” she joked, appreciating the complex tastes he’d created. “I’m busy

consuming ecstasy.”

He stared at her through half-lowered lids. “And I just got started.”
While she unapologetically polished off her plate, he took unhurried bites. He watched her

intently during dinner, seeming to take as much satisfaction from her response to his food as she did
eating it.

Finally, she pushed her plate away with a sigh. “Spectacular.”
“Glad to hear.”
“I can’t remember the last time I appreciated food this much.”

“Finished?”
She nodded. Her head lolled like she’d drunk a bottle of wine. “You are my favorite person in

the world right now.”

He set his silverware down and pinned her with a stare. She blinked, swallowed. She knew

that look. She should’ve heaped on a pile of excuses for why he should get those thoughts right out of
his head. But she didn’t. Couldn’t. Her senses were delirious. Now that he’d conquered scent and
taste, she wanted touch. She craved the desire she saw in his eyes.

When she said nothing, he stood. Coming behind her, he set his hands on the sides of her chair.

Without effort, he picked it up and angled it away from the table.

Kneeling before her, he drew her face into his hands. “Now, I want dessert.”
For a hot second, he stared at her lips like a man who’d been wandering a wasteland and

finally came to the well he sought. Then he kissed her thoroughly.

Different from his quick tender kiss in the hallway, this lip-lock was intense, passionate. He

feasted on her. Then he fed her kisses, letting her pursue his mouth as he pulled away, kissed her, and
pulled away again.

She curved her hand around his neck and pulled her to him. She wanted this, needed this. So

much unspent sexual need and emotion. So long denied. No words.

When he snaked his arm around her back and dragged her to the edge of the chair, she came

willingly. As he pressed her tight to him, she spread her legs. Escaping her high-heels, she curled her
foot around his thigh.

He groaned and shot up to standing, taking her with him. Legs wrapped around his waist, she

didn’t let him break their kiss as he moved toward his bedroom.

They didn’t make it that far.
Intoxicated with sensation, she didn’t care about tomorrow. This moment was her world. And

she wanted Logan.

They landed against the wall.
He cushioned the impact, hand cradling her head. But nothing, no wall or emotional barrier,

could contain their attraction.

Just like the first time.
His tongue dove deep, curling around hers, drawing out every latent desire until she was a heap

of nerves and need in his arms. “Take me.”

His kiss went into overdrive. He tilted her head to give him supreme access and his tongue

made deep relentless sweeps.

The ravaging kisses ignited restlessness. He set her nerve-endings ablaze. Anticipation

pounded through her veins.

He broke their kiss to say, “You have no idea how much I want you.”
“Believe me, I do,” she whispered against his lips.
His mouth locked on hers again. His arms tightened. She gave in to the strength of his embrace.

Her inner thighs gripped his waist.

With shockingly swift moves, he stripped her naked. Her feet never touched the floor. She

responded by unbuttoning his shirt, peeling it off his muscular shoulders. He finished the job, tearing
off his shirt and shucking his bottom layers. His need pulsed against her opening.

His hot breath coasted down her neck to her cleavage. He cupped her breast and sucked her

nipple into his mouth, flicking and teasing the peak. She moaned.

“Did I mention,” he murmured, “I still fantasize about your amazing breasts?”

“I’m okay with that. Just don’t stop.”
A wicked glint stole into his eyes. “I fantasize about you saying that, too.”
She laughed then gasped as his teeth tugged the tight bud. He moved to her other breast,

kneading and flicking the tip. Her head dropped back.

After a few minutes of sweet torture, he brought their faces level. His eyes gaze bored into hers.

“I’m going to take you.”

“Here?”
“Here. Now.”
A powerful thrust sent him into her heat. Her inner muscles clung to him. He pulled out halfway

and thrust again.

She sucked in a breath. Sensation tightened and centered in her core. The promise of ecstasy

shivered through her.

Arms encircling her body, he pumped into her. She rode every inch of his hot length. Her moans

encouraged his thrusts, deeper, harder. A sheen of sweat broke across his skin turning slippery under
her touch. He maintained his secure hold as he buried his face against her neck and drove into her
again and again. His mouth sucked. His body plunged.

They made love with a force untamed.
As her core tightened, all sensation centered where he moved, hard and slick inside her. White-

hot tingles spread through her. She arched, moaned with pleasure. She tightened around him. Then she
unwound in ecstasy. Shivering, shaking in his arms, she gave over to the sparks of sensation
exploding through her.

When her core spasmed around him, he shuddered. Clutching her, he came hard, spilling

himself inside her.

A curse seethed through his clenched teeth. His cock throbbed, convulsions that drew out her

orgasm beyond natural limits. He took her to a height beyond their one night together. How can this be
better than that one perfect night?

Could sex get better each time, with the right person?
Wonderment left her dizzy at the thought.
He eased out of her, lowering her carefully until her feet met the hardwood floor. Her legs

trembled. He swept her with a possessive, sexually-charged glance. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

Delivering a sizzling kiss that promised more passion in store, he stroked her cheek and turned.

She watched him amble toward his kitchen, offering a spectacular rear view. He was muscular,
masculine perfection. Not over-developed like Trevor’s compact bulk, but tall, athletic, divinely
proportioned. She marveled as she had looking up at Michelangelo’s David in Florence for the first
time.

Logan seemed unaffected by his nudity. As if it were ordinary to have mind-blowing sex against

his great room wall and then strut around naked and still half-hard.

By contrast, her whole body blushed, infused with awkward self-consciousness. A wet trickle

oozed down her inner thigh. Alarmed, she raced for the closest cover, an Aztec-design blanket draped
over the back of his sofa. She whipped it around herself.

Then, seeing their clothes strewn across the floor, a lamp on a nearby table teetering, and the

picture askew on his wall, she descended into panic. An old, dark instinct for self-preservation
seized her. She scooped their clothes off the ground, folded them clumsily, righted the lamp, and
reached for the crooked picture frame.

“Allison. What are you doing?”

She froze. She’d tried to make things perfect before he returned. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
She reached for the frame again. “I’ll make it right.”
“Stop.”
Repentant, she obeyed his order and faced him. Like a child bracing for punishment.
Logan stood stock-still, a towel in one hand and a heaping bowl of ice cream the other. He

stared at her. “What’s wrong?”

Shame scorched her bare skin. “I didn’t mean to make a mess.”
“Who cares?”
Her lips parted. “You’re not angry?”
“Why would I be?” Approaching her, he grinned. “I happen to like seeing your clothes on my

floor, and having you naked in my house.” Slinging the towel over his shoulder, he transferred the
bowl to his other hand and reached for her.

She tensed. His arm lowered to his side.
Concern flashed in his eyes. “I thought since I had my dessert, you’d like some, too.”
“How nice,” she murmured, unsure of his ulterior motive. The first time they’d had sex she’d

left his hotel room before dawn, the space immaculate as if she’d never been there. She gestured at
the rumpled clothes, the cockeyed picture. “I will clean it up, I promise.”

“I don’t care. Why are we even talking about this?”
She stared at the floor.
He studied her for a long moment. “Look at me.”
She forced herself to meet his eyes. She wasn’t certain what she’d find there.
All that awaited her was compassion, and something else. She couldn’t identify the churning

emotions in his stare. He didn’t look pleased, but he didn’t appear angry with her. More like a stark
revelation taking hold.

“My God, Allison. What did he put you through?”
Dampness seeped along her lashes. It was the first time anyone asked her that. At last,

recognition of what she’d endured in her marriage, even though he didn’t know the half of it. No one
cared to hear about someone’s broken, damaged life. She learned that quick, the first time Trevor
smashed a vase against the wall beside her head. Shocked and shaken, she’d gone to her neighbor on
the military base the next day, a woman with weary eyes and three toddlers tugging at her apron,
who’d told her to shut up and pretend it had never happened. Most people liked drifting through life
on the surface of things, never getting more involved than the minimum social requirements.

Logan, however, was not most people.
She didn’t know whether to feel relieved or terrified. Knowledge was power. A weapon

Trevor had wielded with rapier precision, cutting her down until she’d almost believed he was the
only person who’d tolerate such a stupid selfish woman. Almost. There’d been a whisper of knowing,
a thread of self-respect she’d clung to telling her she didn’t deserve his cruelty for a lifetime. She’d
guarded that fiercely, afraid if someone knew the truth of what she’d experienced that fragile cord
would snap.

She dangled by that thread now.
Her eyes pleaded with Logan not to force a confession or make her recount the facts she’d

worked too hard to bury. The vulnerability of revealing the truth would be unbearable.

“Come here,” he said softly, holding out his arm again.
Tentatively, she stepped toward him. He enfolded her in a powerful embrace. For a moment it

seemed as if his arms alone could shield her from the hell she’d left behind.

He held her. Just held her, like he’d never let go.
Gradually, her defenses yielded. Her body gave up its tenseness, easing until her physical and

emotional weight rested in his effortless strength. As if she was no burden at all.

He kissed her hair. His lips were soft. His grip was firm and steadfast.
She had never felt so safe. Sheltered from whatever fate hurled at her.
There was one thing remarkably absent.
Loneliness.
“Personally,” he said, “I could stay like this all night. But your dessert is melting. All over the

place.”

“Oh.” She looked at the bowl in his hands, dipping with soggy white froth. Her eyes widened.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She reached for the towel on his shoulder to clean up the goop.

“Uh-uh.” He pointed to the couch. “Sit down and eat before it turns into soup.”
“But the floor—”
He eyed her sternly. “I’ve got it.”
Once she complied, Logan returned to the kitchen.
Running a dishtowel under warm water, he released the breath he’d been holding. The one that

had held back his full-scale fury. His fist clenched the towel, squeezing out every drop of water he’d
used to moisten it.

He figured it had been bad for her with Trevor. He hadn’t realized how bad.
As he’d held her, she’d revealed the truth. She didn’t have to say a thing.
Dropping the towel, he gripped the edge of the sink until his arm muscles shook. If his counters

were made of less than granite they might’ve cracked. He lowered his head. He was so damn close to
everything he wanted. Except that an abusive scumbag had scarred Allison so deeply she hadn’t
healed. She didn’t even know what a decent relationship looked like.

In her fragile state, Allison might not get through this pregnancy. The thought shattered him. His

sister Stephanie had suffered a miscarriage, which Logan had linked to the emotional devastation of
losing Dad to cancer three years ago. He couldn’t handle that.

He wanted this baby so much.
Their child needed Allison whole and happy. And Logan needed her whole and happy, if she

was to accept the life he wanted to give her.

Lifting his head, he stared out the window into the darkness, then at his own reflection. Rage

burned in his eyes.

Trevor Hurtz needed to be wiped off the planet.
And Logan was just the man for the job.

CHAPTER 7

Allison heard birds chirping. She shifted and stretched. Luxurious softness enveloped her.
Unused to the sensation, she mentally brushed away the cobwebs of sleep to remember what

happened before she’d landed on this cloud. Her core throbbed and pleasure tingled between her
thighs.

In flashes of memory she recalled frantic love-making, the high of bliss. Then she’d tasted a

combination of melting ice cream, fresh raspberries and drizzles of maple syrup. Then sleep had
pulled her down to couch cushions. Then she was weightlessness, carried tenderly like a bird with a
broken wing before getting tucked into the comfort surrounding her now.

Where am I?
Disoriented, she frowned. At the edge of consciousness, a voice called her name.
She bolted up to sitting. Staring through blond tangles, she darted her gaze around. Colors of

sage and lavender put her at ease. The scents of clean linen and lilac enfolded her. The familiar desk
and bookcase grounded her, and pictures of Europe spanned the walls. A warm feeling settled deep
inside.

Home .
“Allison.”
Blinking, she found Logan standing beside the bed. Except the towel around his hips, he was

damp and naked. He smelled of mint and soap. Still groggy she didn’t have the presence of mind to
censor her stare.

She absorbed the tall rugged male fresh from the shower. Water clung to the ends of his

slicked-back hair. A droplet fell and she followed its descent over his broad shoulder, his collar
bone. It trickled down his chest before caressing every nuance of muscle along his torso, the
indentations outlining tight abs, the tempting arc of muscle defining his hip, before it absorbed into the
towel.

Aroused, her inner thighs tingled again. She craved the taste of that drop on her tongue. She’d

never experienced the pure, simple enjoyment of lusting after a man.

Chills scattered over the tanned expanse of him, raising tiny bumps on his flesh. Had she caused

that? Licking her lips, she glanced up.

Wearing an amused grin, he arched an eyebrow. She scooted back a few inches.
Awkward!
“Sleep well?” His deep voice resonated through the room.
“Yes.” As a notion struck, her eyes widened. “I slept the whole night through.”
“Is that rare?”
She nodded. Between the incredible sex, then the way he’d held her, topped by a full night’s

sleep…she felt good. Too good. She didn’t trust it.

“Here.” He handed her a steaming mug. “Fresh brewed. Hazelnut okay?”
“Fantastic.” She reached for the coffee cup. She blew across the surface then sipped. The hot

nutty liquid splashed down her throat. “Mmmm.” She swallowed. “Perfect.”

Taking another sip, she stole a glance at him between swirls of steam. He regarded her through

heavy lids. His cinnamon-cider eyes were veiled. Although she couldn’t place it, she sensed a
different energy underlying his calm. Despite his external composure, his mind was churning,
weighing, considering, calculating.

Something had wound him tight.
“What is it?”
As soon as she asked, she wanted to retract the question. Their cohabitation demanded a

tightrope act. Every step altered the balance. She’d taken too great a leap, leaving him an opening to
reverse the momentum and pry into her thoughts in return.

But he didn’t.
“Nothing.” The unsettling edge smoothed into nonchalance. “We need to get going.” He

gestured to the clock on her nightstand. “Plane leaves in two hours for D.C.”

“Crap.” She groaned. “I almost forgot about the big presentation.”
“Your clothes are in the closet. Whatever was in your laundry basket, I had dry-cleaned. That’s

in there, too. See you downstairs.” He shut the door behind him.

Scrambling out of bed, she hurried through her morning routine. She made a mental note to thank

him for the lengths he’d gone to ensure her every need was considered and taken care of before she
asked.

As she blow-dried her hair then twisted it through her curling iron, she recognized that a mere

“thank you” was inadequate. Applying the finishing touches to her makeup, drawing black liquid liner
along her upper lashes, she decided to do the one thing she could for Logan. No matter what, she
would land him this government contract.

Twenty minutes later, a little nervous, she smoothed the front of her skirt before walking

downstairs to meet him. He waited in the foyer.

When he glanced up, he did a double-take. He swallowed, lips parting. “I like the red.”
Judging by his glazed stare, he liked what was underneath it, too. She’d chosen this borderline-

appropriate, corvette-red suit and a black lace camisole with the end result in mind. She’d use
everything at her disposal to help him achieve the contract he deserved.

A pink hue crested his cheeks. “Wearing that, you could convince the devil to buy a timeshare

on Antarctica.”

“Is the prince of darkness on the panel today?”
Shaking his head, he sighed. “Only us mere mortals.”
She rolled her eyes. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”
His grin flashed white lightning. “I’m counting on it.”
Infused with confidence, she strutted across the floor in stilettos. “Let’s nail this contract.”
His eyelids lowered halfway. “I love it when you talk dirty.”
When he delivered an affection swat on her rump, she clamped her lips to contain a yelp of

surprise. Then she marveled as they exited his house and entered the waiting limo. She’d never been
in a limousine. The space was a warm leather sanctuary.

The driver loaded their carry-on luggage into the trunk. Then they departed for the airport.
Crystal glasses lined one wall of the vehicle, flanked by expensive liquor options. Logan

poured her a glass of bottled water. She cupped the chalice as if one wrong turn would cause her to
grip it too tight and shatter it.

Inhaling a deep breath, she pulled herself together. The glass wasn’t so fragile. Neither was

she.

“I was thinking,” she said. “I want to know the purpose of this presentation. Your purpose.

What do you want to happen today?”

Energized by the question, he leaned forward. “Here’s the deal. These people want to hear

about Armageddon, and how I’m going to ride in and save the day.”

On that count, he was a master. Combine that with flawless business instincts, he was

unstoppable. “Okay. So we need to create impending doom before we offer salvation from it.”

His eyes sparkled like autumn sunlight. “Exactly.”
“How should we start?”
“We give them a real-life scenario.” He swept a hand through the air like an artist envisioning

his completed canvass. “It’s all about targeting what they want most. What every person wants.
Security. Knowing he can live his life without worry, without problems or interruptions. These
people are used to perfection. They make millions and that guarantees them cushion from life’s
typical strife.”

“They expect the best. And they’re willing to pay for it.”
“Right. I’ll ensure their happy lives are eternally preserved.” He peered at her. “But it’s more

than that. If I can get my system integrated with the highest-level security networks in the world, I can
save more than one family, more than one government. I can impact nations.”

Allison was enraptured by his passion for preserving the inalienable rights to life, liberty, and

the pursuit of happiness. The values he’d fought for, put his life on the line for, as a Special Forces
commander. She’d never been more attracted to a man. She felt a personal duty to encourage his
momentum. “There are millions less fortunate who’ll benefit.”

“Absolutely.”
“Can you describe how?”
“Once my system is synced with international government intel, we’ll have a technological

edge each government couldn’t command on its own. I’m the bridge. That’s why I created this system.
There are too many loopholes. Too many bastards seep through the cracks. I’m going to seal those
cracks. We’re talking a full-blown referendum on terrorists, drug dealers, sex trade exploiters, sickos
who spread child porn, and the rest of the morally inept gene pool. I will track them down. Just give
me the chance.” His chest rose and fell rapidly.

Allison hadn’t understood true passion until now. Sexual passion, with him, oh yes. But deep-

seated, ferocious desire… “You want to save them all.”

A severe look arrested his features. “Yes.”
“You know that’s not realistic.”
“Yeah, damn it. I know.” Irritation sizzled from him. “Doesn’t mean I can’t try.”
“I’ll write you a great letter of recommendation,” she offered brightly.
Tension ebbed from his features. They shared a smile. “I may take you up on that.”
After the limo ride, she couldn’t imagine a greater luxury. Logan lived by a totally different set

of expectations. She hesitated in front of the steps up to a sleek private jet. Without conscious thought,
her hand went to the tiny swell of her abdomen.

“It’s safe,” Logan stated. “Private jets fly at a slightly lower altitude, faster and more precise

than a typical aircraft carrier. The baby will be fine.”

“Oh. Okay.” The glimmer of instinct that had hit her made her blink. Followed by a blossoming

sense of hope.

In that moment her world opened up to the possibility she might have the elusive maternal

instinct she’d feared she lacked like her own mother. Maybe it skipped a generation.

Floating in a bubble of awe, she ascended the steps into the plane. The interior smelled new,

like lemon oil and furniture polish. Real wood paneling added a sheen of graceful elegance.

“Do you always fly private?” she wondered.
“Depends. In the states, yes. For international travel, I go the traditional route.”
There was nothing “traditional” about the way Logan lived or traveled. She decided to focus on

the presentation. And the exciting possibility that she might actually possess the ability to bring a baby
into the world and take care of it properly. The responsibility was still overwhelming to grasp. Could
her saving grace be that she knew how not to raise a child?

That didn’t exactly sound promising. Her shoulders slumped.
She took her seat on the right side of the plane, second row. Logan settled across the aisle from

her. Despite the narrow space, he seemed far away. She’d sort of hoped he’d sit beside her.
Something about his nearness eased her nerves, made intimidating situations more bearable.

From his laptop bag, he withdrew a daunting sheaf of papers and flipped through the stack.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“A steaming pile of…boring.”
Gripping her armrests, she needed to concentrate on something other than the speed of the jet

and the bump of liftoff. “Like what?”

“Legal red tape. International codes of conduct. Information I’ve been researching for years. I

need to have it down when I give my spiel, so I can talk their language.”

“You read that cover to cover?”
“Memorized it.”
“The entire thing?”
“Pretty much.” He shrugged. “A refresher never hurts.”
For the next hour he scanned the pages as fast as a world-class speed reader. He appeared to

absorb information lightning quick. No surprise. Before accepting his offer, she’d done her own
research on him. Besides his dual bachelor’s degree in electrical engineering and U.S. history, his
community of peers regarded him with a mix of jealousy, amazement and respect. Some called him
lucky, others said genius. Beyond his degree, he must’ve honed his engineering skills in the military to
have created the Elite System.

She, on the other hand, had acquired only an associate’s degree—liberal arts, with a

concentration in graphic design—but for how long it took and what she’d gone through to acquire it,
she treasured it like a Ph.D. She grimaced, recalling how she’d pursued her education in secret. She’d
attempted to do it openly, until Trevor went on a tirade about how no wife of his needed college.
He’d educate her on what he wanted her to know.

An unacceptable answer, so she’d taken classes sporadically. Some online when available, a

full load when he was out of the country on assignment. She’d also taken a job on the military base as
a facilitator instructing new recruits on social aspects of military life, which Trevor grudgingly
permitted. If he’d known she could translate that into a well-paying career as a corporate trainer, he
never would’ve allowed it. She’d used those part-time funds to pay for courses in cash and rented a
mailbox at the community college so no paper trail led to her. When she finally completed her degree,
the sense of accomplishment was indescribable.

Except, she’d made a terrible miscalculation. She’d canceled the mailbox at school too early.

Trevor came home one blistering summer afternoon for lunch and intercepted the mail the day her
diploma arrived at their house. He opened the package, found out what she’d done behind his back,

and flew into a rage. He shredded her diploma in front of her, screaming mad, and then shoved it
down the garbage disposal until it was pulp. That wasn’t the only thing he’d destroyed that day.

They both knew it was only a piece of paper. The real damage was already done. She’d lied,

and he never let her live it down. Her life became a prison of suspicion and misery, anger and
violence.

A year to the day of receiving her diploma, she found the last shreds of courage to leave him.

There were some things Trevor could never take away from her, including her education. She’d
packed her bags and filed for divorce. She only wished she could say she’d never looked back.
Unfortunately, for the past four years Trevor made that wish impossible.

She glanced at Logan. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
Absorbed in study, he shook his head. “I’m good.”
Leaning over the aisle, she read the page header. “Are you sure I can’t quiz you on ‘The Decade

of Terror After 9/11’?”

“It’s more frightening than fascinating. Not what you’d call quizable.”
She fidgeted. “I’m no engineer, but if there’s something I should know to do a better job—”
“You’re exactly what I need,” he stated. “You know my system. You have the demonstration

skills I don’t and the language skills I never will. Bring those things to the table, that’s all I ask.”

“I can do that.” She hoped she’d accomplish her vow to get him this contract.
“Which reminds me.” Setting the tome aside, he withdrew something from his suit coat pocket.

“Here.”

He handed her a little black box. She stared at it dubiously in the palm of her hand. “What’s

this?”

“Insurance.”
Wary, she pried open the velvet box. Her eyes flew wide. A diamond the size of her thumbnail

sparkled like a disco ball. “Cripes, Logan!” She snapped the box shut. “Is it real?”

He slanted her a look. “What do you think?”
“Take it back.” She held it away from her. “I don’t want it.”
“Just put it on.”
“Why would you purchase such a thing?”
He rolled his eyes. “Stop reading into things.”
“It looks an engagement ring.”
“Trust me, when I ask a woman to marry me I’ll know the answer is yes.”
“Why do you want me to wear it?”
“I told you, insurance. In case you get morning sickness in the middle of the presentation. And I

have to explain why you ran out of the room abruptly.”

“It’s not so bad,” she insisted. “I can control it.”
“That’s not what my sister tells me. She says it sneaks up on you out of nowhere. Dizziness, too.

Especially after air travel.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister.”
“Two. But only Stephanie talks to me about that stuff.”
That explained a lot. His protective instincts had become embedded through years of honing.

“Your concern is touching,” she admitted, “but unnecessary.” She didn’t want him to see the part of
her that melted.

“Humor me.” He dropped all pretenses. “The Suits on Capitol Hill have distrust down to an art.

Maybe because they earn a living speaking half-truths and making promises they probably won’t

keep. Regardless, if you show signs of pregnancy and you don’t at least have a ring to show for it, that
typecast can influence their decision.”

The idea was ridiculous, totally outdated. “Single mothers make up a hefty chunk of their

constituencies.”

“These aren’t just American politicians. There’s top military men, ambassadors, security heads.

They want proof of stability in my company and employees. It’s subtle, but it’s part of the game you
have to play.”

“Hardly fair,” she muttered.
“All’s fair in war and politics.”
As she slowly opened the box again, the enormous diamond caught the sunlight through the oval

window and nearly blinded her. “What if I lose it?” she asked nervously.

“Then some sucker will get lucky. And I call my insurance company to handle it.”
“Oh.” So practical.
It’s not a real engagement ring. It never will be .
Why did a sad, hollow feeling creep over her then?
Reluctantly, she removed the faceted jewel from its satin cushion and slid it on. An exact fit.

She stared at its over-the-top dazzle, shocked to see her left ring finger occupied. The first time since
she’d removed her wedding band, left it on the kitchen counter, and walked away from her life with
Trevor.

Memories and emotion welled up. Tears sprang to her eyes.
Crazy pregnancy hormones .
A tear slid loose and trickled down her cheek. She brushed it away quickly so Logan wouldn’t

notice.

But he did. “Something wrong?” he asked.
“No, nothing.” Her nose started to run. “I’m just… I have to go to the bathroom.” Unbuckling

her seat belt she darted toward the rear of the plane.

Safely locked inside the small restroom, tears tumbled down her face. So many conflicting

feelings from the past and present converged. An internal typhoon hit her. Sobs wracked her chest.

This is stupid , she berated herself between hiccups. She didn’t miss or want Trevor, not for all

the castles in France. Yet she still remembered so clearly the hope and promise of those long-ago
vows, the pretty fairytales and happily-ever-after her wedding ring had signified. She also acutely
experienced the sense of failure for leaving the man she’d sworn to love and stand by for all time. No
matter what an awful person he was. So much pain and loneliness, so many nights in agony, tortured
and broken-hearted. She thought she’d thrown off Trevor’s chains, the manipulations he’d used to
keep her shackled to him. She’d never stopped running, never stopped fearing. She hadn’t felt safe
enough to pause and heal the deeper hurt still lingering in the defeated places in her heart.

The ring she wore now held no expectations, no promises. No sentiment from Logan.
No surprise, considering she was closeted in a bathroom crying her eyes out, an ungodly mess.

The man didn’t deserve this kind of baggage.

Neither did she.
She had to let this go. The disappointment over her failed marriage may linger forever, but now

that she was pregnant, the murky past was overshadowed by brighter possibilities. A baby, a pure
little life undisturbed by history, didn’t deserve to know the brutality one human being could inflict on
another.

Trevor may have defeated her spirit once. But she could break this pattern of fear. No matter

how vulnerable it made her, the defensive walls she clung to must fall. Though she wasn’t clear on
how to accomplish the fearlessness she envisioned for herself and her child, she believed her new
determination was a good beginning.

The tears stopped. She reached for a fifth tissue and noticed a strange lightness within. She felt

better, like she’d actually be okay.

As she blotted her face, the diamond on her finger glinted, a gentle wink. It was nothing more

than a prop, a glittering shield to hide her pregnancy symptoms.

Yet somehow the physical solidness, the weight of it on her finger and the screen of protection

it offered gave her comfort. She could be sick to her stomach, dizzy, or burst into tears…and it was
all right. No need for excuses, or to pretend she was something she wasn’t. The jewel symbolized a
safety net that would catch her if the weight of her reality became too heavy to bear.

She heard a noise outside the bathroom door.
“You okay in there?” Logan’s concerned voice penetrated the drone of the plane’s engine.
“Never been better.” Ironically, it was true.
She didn’t dare look in the mirror. She blew her nose one more time and then opened the door.

As if falling to pieces in an airplane bathroom and sobbing for ten minutes was perfectly normal.

When she stepped out, Logan assessed her. Seeing deep grooves crease his forehead, she

assumed she must look awful. She brushed past him.

“Want to talk about it?” he asked.
“Can we talk about food? I’m starving.”
“Is that all?”
“Yes.”
His gaze was probing. “You sure?”
“Positive.”
After he had her fed and content, she drifted off to sleep. At one point her head dropped

forward, her hair sliding over her face like a variegated blonde curtain.

Worried she’d wake with a stiff neck, Logan crossed the aisle with a pillow. He lifted her face

gently and tucked the pillow between her head and the window casing. He lowered the shade and let
her sleep. She obviously needed it.

Her makeup was streaked from tears. He wanted to hold her, watch her sleep in his arms. His

gaze drifted to her finger.

A thrill of triumph went through him. She still wore the ring, which sparked a reckless hope he

had no business considering right now. As long as he didn’t say anything to make her run for cover, he
stood a chance.

While he had a decent well of patience, he was no saint. He wasn’t a man to wait for what he

wanted. With her, he had no choice. He sent her a look that carried the burden of his wordless
thoughts. One that would’ve sent her into surefire flight-mode had she been awake.

Restlessness was a shadow he couldn’t shake. He wondered how long his wait for her would

be. Or if it would ever end.

CHAPTER 8

He knew she was good. That’s why Logan was paying her twice the rate he’d shell out for

another instructional designer and trainer to assist in presenting his system.

But Logan had no idea Allison could wow an audience—him included—for three hours

straight. Despite her minor upset on the plane, she stood by his side looking flawless. She gave a
world-class presentation she must’ve spent weeks preparing. Every frame of the slideshow was a
work of graphic art genius. Every statement she offered to back up his theories and claims showed her
masterful knowledge of his system and salesmanship. Her well-timed wit sent chuckles rolling
through the panel. Her smiles were infectious. Her personality dazzling.

She was in rare form, and she made it look effortless.
Logan was blown away.
So was the panel, because when the presentation concluded, their influential audience asked her

as many questions as they asked him. She deferred to him often, but they fielded inquiries as a team.
No one could’ve invented a more ideal partner for him. Like gift-wrapped perfection on Christmas
morning.

Turned out she was right, the ring was unnecessary…as far as her health was concerned. She

never gave a sign she was exhausted or uncomfortable or sick. And hot damn, she was a trophy in her
red skirt-suit that molded to her curves, made more voluptuous by her pregnancy.

He wasn’t sure whether to gloat or be offended by men’s appreciative glances. Those glances

weren’t as irritating as the outright lecherous stares, when the less discreet men in the room undressed
her with their eyes. And whatever the hell else they were doing in their imaginations that put perma-
grins on their faces when they spoke to her.

Their indecent attention was more pronounced at the gala hosted by Senator Coffee at his

McLean, Virginia, estate outside of D.C. Logan had been invited there after the presentation, the
perfect opportunity to pitch his system. Allison had instantly agreed to go with him. She knew how to
work a marketing angle—and a room—as well as he did. Or better, by the looks of things.

From his position at the senator’s well-stocked bar, he watched her charm middle-aged

opportunists. She seemed enamored with every guy who started a conversation with her. They stood
too close, touched her too often. He wanted to shove into the circle of testosterone surrounding her
and claim her like a damn Neanderthal.

He tossed back his scotch, set the glass down hard.
I could buy and sell any one of them ten times over . The self-righteous assertion annoyed him

even more. He wasn’t the type of guy who needed reassurances.

“Can I get another drink over here?” he barked.
The bartender approached, bottle in hand. He pulled out a twenty, stuffed it in the tip jar and

emptied this glass faster than the first.

Logan had experienced jealousy before. But nothing that compared to this gut-clenching, white-

hot possessiveness that could make a man physically ill and half-insane.

Worst part was that if Allison knew what was going on in his head, she’d walk right out his

door. If he showed any sign of possession or domination, she’d be gone.

Not an option.
So he suffered in silence. He needed to take his eyes and mind off her long enough to throw out

some sales pitches, his whole reason for being here.

A familiar face approached the bar. Logan recognized the man from their presentation. He

mentally snapped his fingers—the defense minister from Brazil.

“Evening, Mr. Olarez.” Logan held out his hand.
Horatio Olarez smiled and clasped his hand around Logan’s. “Quite the presentation today, Mr.

Stone. I am most impressed.”

Logan smiled. “Glad to hear it was worth your time.”
“ Si . I know potential when I see it.”
That sounded promising. This was normally where Logan launched into conversation, playing

to basic human needs and how he solved them. Tonight those well-rehearsed lines escaped him. “It
would be my privilege to invite you, all expenses paid, to the Stone Security facility. My setup there
provides a better model of what I can make happen on a broader scale.”

Olarez’s expression was unreadable as he peered at Logan. “You are a man of fine tastes.” He

gestured to Logan’s empty glass, and the bartender refilling it with expensive scotch. “Join me in the
courtyard? I have brought the finest cigarillos in all of South America. A shame to keep them to
myself.”

Logan nodded. “Lead the way.”
He could use some fresh air.
The moon hung low and bright in the sky, a night when the lunar terrain etched visibly on the

glowing surface. His wool suit shielded him from the bite in the November air. He accepted a
cigarillo and Olarez flicked open a lighter. The scent of butane preceded wood-smoked cherry. He let
the smoke fill his mouth with a pleasant sting.

Pondering the skyline, Olarez said, “I hear that in the District of Columbia no building may be

taller than the Washington Monument.”

“That’s the deal.”
“Why is this?”
Logan blew out a stream of smoke that shone blue in the moonlight. “The pyramids of Giza, the

Tower of Babel, the Washington Monument. They’re all beacons of hope, of strength. Structures of
significance to the people. For us, the monument signifies courage in the face of oppression.”

Horatio tilted his head. “A fine explanation. You know American history well.”
“I love my country. Served it faithfully for ten years. I protected it with my life, and now I plan

to protect it in a different way.”

A comfortable silence passed. They puffed their cigars.
Then Horatio spoke again. “The woman who presented with you today. She wears a ring. It is

yours?”

Logan paused a beat. “Yes.”
“Ah.”
Glancing askance, Logan noticed a twinkle in the man’s eyes. When Horatio said nothing,

Logan filled the quiet. “I’m glad one of us finds it amusing.” Realizing how the statement sounded, he
backpedaled. “What I meant was—”

Horatio held up a hand. “I understand. This is new for you.”

“What is?”
“You find that someone else is more important than what you want for yourself.”
Incredulous, he wondered how they’d gone from iconic structures to his barely-requited love

life. “You got all that from two minutes of conversation?”

“It was the two minutes before our conversation that intrigued me.”
Considering his foul mood as he’d watched Allison from a distance, the impression couldn’t be

good. “So I’m that transparent.” Great .

Horatio chuckled. “I believe the American phrase is ‘it takes one to know.’”
It takes one to know one . Logan wasn’t about to correct him. The man had an uncanny way of

pegging people, and Logan didn’t want to attract more attention to his confusing love life.

Horatio sighed. “There are worse things, my friend.”
“Nothing comes to mind.”
A cryptic smile accompanied Horatio’s next statement. “A great man cannot achieve success

until he knows the one thing he cannot overcome.”

Logan took a drag from the cigarillo. “Some things sound better on paper.”
“Not a quote from a book, my friend. It is a truth.”
At the edge of the patio, Logan made a groove in the flowerbed with his shoe. “I don’t think I

can overcome it. Or, if I could, I’m not sure I’d want to.” Then he rolled his eyes at himself. “I can’t
believe I’m talking about this to someone I don’t even know.”

“What we have in common is greater than our differences.”
The man missed his calling as a philosopher. Logan looked up at the starless sky. “Does it ever

stop? This feeling if you lose the person who makes you whole, you’ll never recover?”

Unimaginable sorrow touched the man’s features, aging him twenty years. “It does not.”
Logan bowed his head, honoring Horatio’s quiet pain. “I figured.”
“There are many who will never care to lose what they didn’t have the heart to find.” His tone

cooled. “I find those men can never be trusted.”

Logan regarded Horatio Olarez like an apprentice reveres a master. “I think I understand.”
Shedding the personal intensity of their exchange, Horatio flicked the butt of his cigarillo and

clapped Logan on the back. “Then let us talk about contracts. How soon is your security device
available?”

Logan stopped mid-flick. His glowing orange stub dropped to the patio, hissing before the

smoke disappeared. “I think I missed something.”

“Not at all, Mr. Stone. I speak on behalf of my people when I say it will be a pleasure doing

business with you.”

A surprised smile tugged Logan’s lips. “I like that sound of that.”
“Excellent.” Horatio beamed. “Let’s talk about my security budget. We will spare no

expense…”

As they returned inside the bustling warmth of the mansion, Logan was dumbstruck. How had

his one weakness, his feelings for Allison, suddenly turned into his most lucrative international
business alliance to date?

He’d investigate the connection later.
Right now, he had a game-changing deal to make.

*

Three hours later, riding high on his handshake deal with Horatio Olarez, Logan boarded his

private jet with Allison. The primal satisfaction of landing a stellar contract fueled his vital urges.

Not to mention that third glass of scotch. And his still-stinging jealousy.

The day’s events left shadows under Allison’s eyes. He knew she was tired. But this wouldn’t

wait for his bedroom. Or the limo.

He wanted her n ow .
As she settled in, she bent down to stow her purse. Her tight red skirt rode up her thighs, her

gorgeous ass beckoning him. From this angle, her skirt revealed the lace and clasps of thigh-highs.
Holy hell .

The last of his restraint unraveled.
He unbuttoned his suit coat and launched it toward his seat. It sailed through the air and landed

in a heap, followed by his tie. He swiftly undid his cuffs, and the first four buttons of his pinstripe
shirt, before she turned.

Her eyes widened seeing him half-undressed. “What are you doing?”
“You.” His shirt crumpled to the floor.
He hauled her into his arms and kissed her ravenously. He couldn’t get enough of her taste as he

ate at her lips, swept deep inside her mouth. She was his, damn it. Lust surged to his cock, rock-hard
against her hip.

She drew back, struggling for breath. “Logan.”
“Huh?” His mouth drew on her neck.
“The plane. It’s about to take off.”
“So am I.”
Her red jacket met the floor with a soft thump. Her breasts, trapped in a push-up bra she didn’t

need, were the height of temptation he couldn’t deny.

“But…” He dragged his mouth down, sweeping his tongue into her cleavage. “Can we do this?

Here?”

“It’s my plane. You’re my woman. I don’t see a problem.” He licked between her breasts.
Inhaling a shuddering breath, she said, “The pilot—”
“Can’t see a damn thing.”
She gulped. “Are you sure?”
He stared down at her through heavy lids, making his need known. One arm holding her tight to

him, he cupped her face, tipping her head back until their eyes met and held. In the ambient cabin
lighting, desire expanded her pupils.

That was all the permission he needed. As he backed her toward his seat, her toes barely

touched the floor. With a flick of his fingers, the seat back reclined.

Then he flipped their positions. He landed on the chair, pulling her down with him. In his

condition, he didn’t trust himself to be on top and be civilized.

Their mouths met again. He swirled his tongue around hers, making hot plunges like he was

about to do inside another part of her. Her nails raked across his scalp. His hands fisted in her hair.

Nothing but her thong and his zipped fly separated the damp heat building between them. His

belt buckle was undone in seconds. He hitched his hips, shoving his pants and boxer-briefs below his
hips, leaving him throbbing and exposed.

The plane revved its engines.
The scent of sex surrounded them. He slid his fingers under her thong, and found wet bliss

awaiting him. He stroked her soft flesh sliding against his touch. His fingers flicked, stroked,
separated her. Her tongue twined around his, sucking him into her mouth. His moan echoed in her
throat.

Lights whipped past the windows, yellow-white blurs. The plane neared max speed.
He couldn’t wait one more second.
Yanking her panties aside, he entered her with a deep thrust.
The plane took off, soaring into the air. He raised her to the tip of his shaft then plunged her

down again. He buried himself to the hilt.

She threw her head back and rode him. Better than any fantasy, she was flesh and blood. And

his.

She took him deeper with every plunge. He lunged his hips to meet the rhythm she set.
“Who do you belong to?” His words were darts of breath between clenched teeth. “Say it.”
A flash of wariness took over her sensual gaze. She hesitated.
He was too much in the throes of passion to consider it. He gripped and pumped her harder.

“Tell me. Who are you going home with tonight? Every night?”

“You, Logan.” She shivered from her shoulders to her curled toes. “Only you.”
“Damn right.”
The plane rose at an incline, positioning her perfectly over him. He pulled down her satin

camisole, tearing one strap. Her breasts spilled into his waiting hands. “God, you’re beautiful.” He
nipped and laved her nipples that beaded against his tongue. His breath came in rapid-fire bursts. “So
good, Allison.”

His words seemed to excite her. She moved feverishly up and down his cock.
Then his control snapped. He surged into her with enough force to launch a rocket. His lungs

fought for air. He groaned, gasped. A curse roared from his chest. And he came. Hard. Harder than he
ever had in his life. Pulsing inside her, he felt her spasms deep inside build to a crescendo. He swore
he was still coming when she collapsed into blissful quivers in his arms.

The jet leveled to cruising altitude.
Their ragged breaths slowed. She breathed out, he breathed in. Their hearts beat in rhythm

together. One arm draped across her shoulders, the other molded around her waist.

Perfection . He sighed.
He felt her lashes flutter against his bare chest, a whispering tickle. In his secure hold, her

muscles relaxed like a gentle cascade. She snuggled into his embrace. He closed his eyes, amazed by
how good it felt to hold her.

Her breath warmed his shoulder like the soft flex of butterfly wings. He didn’t move, didn’t

dare. He held her close, kissed her cheek, smoothed her hair. Whispered things he couldn’t say when
she was awake.

Give her time , he told himself.
But the refrain was getting old. He wanted her heart, her vows, their baby—everything. Right

now.

The Thanksgiving holiday was coming up in less than two weeks. Maybe then, surrounded by

his family and friends, she’d realize how serious he was about her becoming a permanent part of his
life. Steph and Tracie knew about the baby. He’d told his sisters the day he found out. They couldn’t
wait to meet her. The woman who’d managed to get their bachelor brother to give up all he had for
everything he finally realized he needed.

He wanted Allison to feel welcome, like she belonged. Along with his sisters and husbands and

their kids, Rick and Vivi and their four hellions would land at his place, as well as Devon. The
tradition of Logan hosting Thanksgiving for the past few years was his way of immersing himself in
the family he didn’t see often enough, along with the friends who were like family. Kids and chaos,

great food and even better conversation. The precious, priceless things he’d believed he had to
acquire vicariously.

Until Allison and the baby knocked him off course. And finally onto the right track.
Still, he wasn’t sure she could handle what he wanted from her, with her. He kissed her hair.

“It’s a good thing I like a challenge, baby doll.”

He felt her lips curve. She said sleepily, “I like you, too.”
A smile glowed in his heart.

*

Where is Logan?
Tapping her fingers impatiently, Allison checked the clock again. He should’ve come by her

office ten minutes ago. She was due for her first pregnancy exam at three-o’clock. The one Logan had
arranged without investigating the options together, or even asking her if she’d be comfortable with a
man instead of a woman.

Regardless, being late wasn’t an option, considering the strings Logan had pulled to get an

appointment with the best, busiest, most expensive OB/GYN in the Denver area. She grabbed her
coat, turned off her computer and went to his office. She knocked on his closed door.

No answer. She frowned. Maybe he was caught up in last-minute contract details for his latest

score with the Brazilian government.

To hasten their departure, she decided to wait for him in the front lobby. As she neared the

designer glass partition separating the lobby from the elevators, the heavy scent of gardenias nearly
knocked her over backward.

She’d once loved gardenias. They were the single splurge Trevor had agreed to for their small

chapel wedding. The gaudy smell reminded her of days when she’d adored big dreams, and men who
made big promises. Trevor had tapped into sentimentality occasionally, surprising her with a bouquet
of gardenias for their anniversary. Mostly, she’d received them the morning after Trevor had
exhibited appalling behavior or descended into one of his violent tantrums. Like an over-worn
perfume, the sticky-sweet scent no longer reduced her to a knee-weakened puddle.

When she rounded the oval-shaped front desk, she stopped short. She’d never seen so many

flowers outside a greenhouse. At least a dozen vases sprouted with thick, fluffy blossoms.

One of the receptionists must’ve had a birthday or anniversary—or was being proposed to right

there in the lobby. Allison hung back, taking a quick sweep of the scene. She didn’t want to interrupt
the big moment.

The receptionists were cheerful and perky as usual, but neither wore the blushing look of a

woman enchanted by an extravagant gift from a lover. When she didn’t see Logan in the lobby either,
she paused to inquire about the white garden.

Lacie, the dark-haired receptionist in her early twenties, caught her eye and smiled. “Anything I

can help you with, Miss Dupree?”

Allison gestured to the piles of flowers. “What’s the special occasion?”
Instead of launching into one of her rambling sagas, Lacie shrugged. “No idea.”
“All these are here for no reason?”
“I wish some handsome stranger would walk in off the street to bring me dozens of flowers, just

because.” Lacie sighed wistfully. “There was no card, no message—not even a note to say who they
were for.”

An eerie sensation prickled up Allison’s neck. The type of flower was merely coincidence, she

told herself. It had nothing to do with her, no added meaning or hidden agenda. Just an accidental mix-

up at the flower shop. “Did you try to return them? There could be a wedding missing its floral
arrangements.”

“I didn’t want to,” Lacie admitted. She wrinkled her nose at the other receptionist. “Gloria

made me.”

Gloria smacked her gum and rolled her eyes. “I thought the same thing as you, Allison. We

called the shop. They said there was no mistake. The guy who ordered them paid cash and demanded
anonymity.”

Lacie looked at them curiously. “Ana… What?”
Gloria gave a world-weary sigh. “He wanted to remain nameless. Said something about them

being a memento of sorts, I guess.”

The edgy feeling returned with greater force, and this time, Allison couldn’t shake the shadow

creeping over her. She looked over her shoulder. The lobby was bright and clean and filled with
normal looking people. She exhaled with agitation, at herself and the worry stabbing her gut. “That’s
all he said? A memento. Nothing about memories…or an anniversary?”

“Nope. Nothing.” Gloria popped her gum again, bored with the interrogation. She went back to

answering calls.

Lacie wore a far-away look. “Aren’t romantic mysteries the best?” She swayed dreamily. “I’ve

always imagined I had a secret admirer out there. He’d see me at the grocery store, or the coffee
shop, or I walk past him on the street everyday at lunch hour. I always take the same route, just in
case.” Her eyes gleamed. “It could happen, you know.”

By contrast, Allison had trained herself to never walk the same route twice. Never park in the

same place. Not even use the same door when she entered and left a building.

Lacie rambled on. “He’s desperately in love with me, but I’m so far out of his league he hasn’t

found the courage yet to talk to me, or ask me to marry him.”

Gloria stabbed the mute button. “Yeah, right, keep dreaming.”
“I will,” Lacie retorted.
Allison admitted a truth. “Obsession is not as romantic as it sounds, believe me.”
“Neither is a stalker,” Gloria muttered. “You want to answer your phone already, Cinderella?”
Allison cut in. “Lacie, have you seen Logan around?”
The girl snapped her fingers. “That’s right! I was supposed to tell you he’s waiting out front.”
Allison swallowed her frustration. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Lacie chirped. She picked up the blinking phone line. “Thanks for calling Stone

Security. How may I direct your call?”

Racing out the door, Allison wove through the pedestrian-packed sidewalk. She barreled

through ankle-deep slush and nearly ran into Logan.

Gripping her elbows to steady her, he demanded, “Where have you been?”
“Waiting for you.”
He glowered. “Didn’t Lacie page you?”
“No, but I’m here now. Let’s go.” She glanced around. “Where’s your Escalade?”
“We’re taking a different mode of transportation.” He gestured to the glistening black

limousine. Without waiting for the driver, he opened the door. “Ladies first.”

“Good grief, Logan. Are you serious? A limo?”
“We’re about to be late. Get in.”
She scooted across the warm leather bench seat. “Why the extravagance?”
He shut the door and brushed snowflakes off his trench coat. “I don’t know what’s involved. If

you needed to take the rest of the day to relax, I’d have the limo drop you off at home. Then I’d go
back to work, since I’ve got six blueprints to approve and a stack of agreements on my desk to sign.”

The gesture was thoughtful, but unnecessary. “I’m sure it’s not a big deal. Just a routine exam.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Nothing is routine when it comes to my kid.” He patted her thigh. “Just

taking precautions.”

As they sped away, Logan glanced out the window as buildings zipped past. He sat forward,

elbows on his knees. The toe of one shoe drummed impatiently. His thumbs tapped together in an
anxious rhythm.

“Logan, are you nervous?”
“No way.” He sat back, ran a hand through his hair. He looked at the floor, then at her. “Okay,

maybe.”

Her heart warmed. Her big, brave bodyguard—the King of the Security Mountain—was

worried about a tiny being barely the size of a pea. She smiled reassuringly. “It’ll be fine.”

Thirty minutes later, she was naked on her back with a scant cloth over her, knees splayed

under the flimsy paper gown, bare feet wedged into stirrups. “We need to go over your past history,”
the doctor stated. As if they were discussing the weather or Starbuck’s latest coffee creation.

Right as Dr. Murray inserted the metal speculum and cranked it wide, Logan breezed into the

room.

Allison clenched. “Oh! My gosh.” Her hands fisted. “Logan, what are you doing?”
“The nurse said I could be here for the exam.”
She sent a steely look to Dr. Murray. The doc smiled benignly at Logan and nodded.
“Excuse me.” She levered up on one elbow. “I’m the patient. I have a say in this.”
“It’s perfectly normal,” the doctor said. “It’s natural that a first-time father is interested in the

process. You’re fortunate. Most men don’t show up with the mother to the first appointment.”

“Fortunate isn’t the word I’d use.”
She wanted time alone with the doctor, to discuss sensitive personal information like when

she’d had her last period, how many partners she’d been with though it was only two, if she had a
history of down-there problems. Things Logan had no business knowing. “I’d rather you wait
outside,” she told Logan.

“Don’t be embarrassed, babe. I’m in this with you, all the way.” His eyes held hers, a soft

emotion glowing in them.

She sighed. He was trying to be sweet and thoughtful. “Okay—”
“So, doc.” Logan turned his attention to Murray. “Talk to me about timelines. When do we start

scheduling future appointments?”

Allison turned her head, mortified as the doctor inspected her most private parts, then retracted

the steel apparatus, with Logan in the room. The doctor talked cordially—to Logan—as he
investigated, probed and pressed. Like the two men were chatting about last night’s Broncos game.
Facts and statistics, stages and tests, bodily functions, and details about what was happening inside
her womb.

Her teeth gritted. “Are we finished?”
“Almost,” Dr. Murray said.
This was humiliating.
Logan seemed oblivious. “What about hiring a midwife? Should I start interviewing people

now?”

“Absolutely.” Dr. Murray nodded. “It’s never too soon to find the people you want surrounding

you during the birth.”

Allison was the one giving birth. What about the people she wanted around her for support?
All right, so she hadn’t thought that far ahead. Logan, however, had apparently thought of

everything. Before asking her what she wanted or needed. It felt as if she were merely the vessel
through which Logan’s progeny entered the world. His world. His way.

The scenario smacked of hostilities left over from another man who’d arranged and controlled

her life. Except, this wasn’t about Trevor. This was an issue between her and Logan. He may be one-
half of this child, but he had no right to take over and make decisions without consulting her first.

Tuning into the conversation, she heard Logan say, “I’ll line up nanny options, while I’m

interviewing prospects.”

That did it.
“Hello! I’m right here . I’m the one having this baby. You should be talking to me about our

baby’s future.”

The room fell silent. The men looked at each other and then at her.
“Sure,” Logan said, bewilderment tugging his features. “I’m just looking for a professional

opinion.”

She sent a hard look at Dr. Murray. “I’d like to have our own private discussion, doctor. At a

later time.”

“Most certainly.” He reached under his white lab coat and withdrew his card, which he

promptly handed to Logan.

Just because she wasn’t wearing pockets at the moment didn’t mean she was incapable of

accepting his card. “You can reach me on my cell, or at my home number.” He pointed it out on the
card. “Call with any questions or concerns. If I’m not available immediately, you’ll hear from me
within the hour. For special clients, I guarantee it.”

A knowing look passed between the men. Like they were part of some secret society. The

doctor stripped off his gloves. “A pleasure to meet you both.”

“Same.” Logan shook his hand. The doctor walked out. He barely acknowledged her.
Allison stewed in the limo, riding silently beside Logan, who wore a concentrated expression

with a touch of contentment. Oblivious to her frustration.

“Want to go back to the office,” he asked, “or head home?”
“Your place.” She deliberately didn’t call it home .
He didn’t notice. “Feeling okay?” He took her hand in his. It was the first time he’d regarded

her emotions.

His warm grip soothed her agitation. “I’m fine.”
“See.” Logan wore a satisfied smile. “I told you that doctor was the best.”
“You sure did.”
That was the problem. He’d told her where to go, what to do. He’d made all the arrangements,

picked the doctor, chose the appointment time. He had answers to his questions that he’d never
bothered to talk about with her.

A stab of remorse told her she should be grateful for Logan’s attentiveness. However,

considering his single-minded actions, she wasn’t certain where she stopped and the baby started.

Was he so hands-on and involved because he sincerely cared about her? Or was she Logan’s

means to an end, to give him the baby who consumed his heart and soul?

CHAPTER 9

Allison curled against Logan’s warm body in bed next to her. As dawn peeked through the trees

like wispy lace, she tried to reclaim the beautiful dream she’d woken from minutes ago.

It was Thanksgiving morning, and she had a thousand things to do before his family and friends

showed up on their doorstep. Instead of leaping into action, she found herself clinging to the last
threads of a fading vision.

In the dream, she’d been sleeping beside Logan as she was now. Then she’d heard a soft cry

from the corner of the bedroom. She’d moved with a somnambulist’s ease toward the tiny cries,
lingering at the edge of a crib. A baby—her baby—looked up at her with wide green eyes, a mirror of
her own. He had a faint dimple in his cheek like Logan’s, and a tuft of dark blonde hair. The infant
stretched its tiny arms toward her with absolute trust, angel-dust innocence. She reached in and then
cradled its perfect weight against her breasts. She smoothed his hair, cooing and whispering as she
rocked him in her arms. A boy…her baby boy…

Logan stirred beside her, rolling over and clamping her in his arms. He threw a muscular leg

over her thighs, nuzzling his face against her neck.

“We’re having a boy,” she whispered.
Logan murmured incoherently and began kissing her throat. She felt him go rock-hard against

her hip.

“Did you hear what I said?” She shoved at her lover’s shoulders. “I had a dream about the

baby. I think it’s going to be a boy.”

“Good.” His trailed kisses along her jaw.
“Are you listening to me? Don’t you think that’s incredible?”
He eased his naked body over hers. “You’re incredible.”
“Logan, stop.” She tried to pull away, knowing the effort of playing hostess that lay in store for

her today.

Without budging, he smiled shamelessly. “I told you to quit giving me challenges.”
She rolled her eyes. “Please?”
“Well, since you asked so nicely…” He dragged his open mouth on a meandering course down

her body.

Her second push was half-hearted. “That’s not what I meant!”
“I think it is.” He swirled his tongue through her cleavage. “I’ll prove it to you.”
“Seriously, our guests will be here in three hours.” Panic began to creep over her.
“They can wait.”
“Logan!”
“I’ve made arrangements.”
“But I promised to make the turkey. And an apple pie.”
“Uh-huh.” He sipped the tender skin above her navel. “I’ve seen—and tasted—your idea of

cooking. I have my personal chef on speed dial.”

“Hey.” Indignantly, she sat up to protest. Which caused his face to land right in her lap. “I’ve

been improving.”

Grinning wickedly, he murmured, “Yes, you have.”
He wasn’t talking about her culinary skills. He parted her thighs to accommodate his big

shoulders.

“You are terrible.” She giggled as his breath tickled her intimately.
“So sorry you have to put up with me.” He blew a cool stream of air against her hot core.
“I’m not getting out of this, am I?”
“Nope.” His eyes burned with sexual heat. “But you can try.”
That was a perpetually lost cause. Giving over to him, she eased down to the pillows. She

inhaled sharply as his tongue met her folds. He tasted her with patient persistence. He took her to the
edge once, twice. Her fists clenched in the bed sheets. Then he slowed his pace, drawing out her
desperate need.

She sighed. “Mmm. So good.”
She’d never felt more in sync with a man. She flung her arms up over her head, rolling her hips

toward his mouth as he flicked and swirled, drawing on her until every muscle in her body flexed,
tightening, waiting…

“That’s it. Don’t stop,” she whimpered. Her core lit up white-hot. “Don’t stop.” She gripped

the pillow.

Accelerating to peak, she came against his mouth.
“Yes!” she screamed, writhed in piercing ecstasy. He stayed there until her tremors became

light shivers.

Then he climbed up her body. Their faces level, he eased into her swollen heat.
He threaded his fingers through hers above her head. He rocked with her, their undulating

movements bringing them close, more intimate than she’d thought possible. She wrapped her legs
around his waist. He thrust deeper, riding them toward release. She bit her lip, spasmed around him.
She was shaking and weightless, floating away on tides of bliss. He shouted his release and shivered
above her.

Relaxed and spent, she held him close. As close as she dared to let anyone.
Releasing her hands, he straightened his arms, his chest a glorious expanse above her. He shook

his head as if to clear it. He got his breathing under control. Then he stared down at her, cinnamon
eyes still smoldering. “Round two, in the shower.”

“No, Logan.” She resisted sternly. “I need time get everything ready.”
“Handle it later.” He arched a seductive eyebrow. “You’re taking care of me now. And I want

to take you from behind. In the shower. Watching water pour down your gorgeous body.”

Well, when he put it like that…

*

“Can I come in?”
Allison looked up from her computer the Monday after Thanksgiving and saw Rick Dunn

standing in the doorway of her office.

“Sure.” She smiled.
She’d never thought she and Rick would be on decent terms. Let alone speaking cordially and

sharing a smile.

Thanksgiving had been a delicious, fun, chaotic whirlwind of laughter and deepening

friendships. Logan’s sisters had warmed to her instantly. Stephanie let Allison hold her four-month-

old baby girl, and Allison had fallen in love with the plump, cooing, drooling package of
preciousness. Between holding the child and her dream hours earlier, the combined experience made
her pregnancy so real she couldn’t wait to hold her own baby. She and Stephanie and Tracy had
talked for hours about babies and raising kids and the joyful craziness of balancing work and family.
Logan had divided his attention between showering Allison with affection and having a blast with the
brood of kids running around his house. He’d even set up a treasure hunt for the under-ten crowd that
kept the pack occupied while the adults enjoyed fine wine and good conversation.

Vivi had behaved herself, and Devon had been in an equally good mood. Then Rick had taken

Allison aside mid-afternoon and actually apologized for his behavior toward her. He’d offered an
olive branch, and Allison had accepted, relieved to know they were on the same side.

For once in her life, she’d felt like she belonged .
Rick stepped inside Allison’s office and approached her desk. “Vivi made a care package for

you.” His eyes twinkled mischievously. He brought his hand out from behind his back and produced a
pie. “She said you can come over anytime and she’ll teach you how to bake.”

Allison rolled her eyes. She’d never live down her cooking mishap on Thanksgiving. “Just

because my first attempt set off the smoke alarms doesn’t mean I’m hopeless.”

He held up his hands innocently. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just the delivery guy.”
Right then Devon strolled in. “Hey, Allison. Make some good charcoal pies lately?”
“You both just wait.” Allison sent them a mock glare. “I’m going to bake the best pie you ever

tasted.”

Devon nudged Rick. “Thank God we have a whole year for her to practice.”
Rick puffed up in defense of Allison, though he barely contained a smirk. “I happen to like my

food with a little extra carbon.”

Devon shrugged. “Since Logan’s smoke alarms are attached to his security system, the fire

department will become regulars at Allison’s Kitchen.”

Allison folded her arms. “Do you two have nothing better to do on a Monday morning than

harass me?”

“Hey, you’re part of the family now,” Rick said. “Get used to it.”
Allison’s heart swelled. “I am?”
“Yes,” Rick and Devon replied simultaneously.
Allison beamed. Her insides went squishy and soft. Their acceptance meant more to her than

words could say.

“So if your kid is a boy, you’ll name him after me.” Rick nodded as if it were a foregone

conclusion.

Devon piped in. “No way. My name is much better. It’s gender-neutral. Boy or girl, I’ve got

you covered.”

Allison arched an eyebrow. This was so like family. Already fighting over baby names. She

loved it. “Maybe I’ll flip a coin.”

“Heads!” Devon called.
“Let’s roll dice,” Rick suggested. “More interested odds.”
Allison wondered, “Which one of you is going to explain to my child that his or her name was

decided by a bet?”

Devon’s lips pulled to the side. “I guess Rick will do the honors. He can explain why women’s

betting skills are far superior to men’s.”

Rick frowned. “Hey, I resemble that remark.”

Allison laughed.
Approaching the desk, Devon grabbed Allison’s hand, wiggling the huge diamond on her left

ring finger. “I’ve kept my mouth shut. But now that we’re all in this together, I’m dying for the scoop
on your ring. Are you and Logan official?”

Withdrawing her hand, Allison folded her fingers tightly. “It was an impromptu thing. Logan

hasn’t asked me to marry him.”

“What the hell is he waiting for?” Rick looked annoyed.
Devon groaned. “What are we in high school? He gave you a ‘pre-engagement’ ring?”
“The timing hasn’t been right.” Allison was surprised by her own defensiveness.
Rick spread his arms. “Is he going to wait until you’ve popped out the kid before he pops the

question?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Rick, he’s been a little busy with his international contracts.”

Which Allison was thrilled to have helped Logan obtain during their DC trip. Logan’s success was
about to reach the pinnacle he’d spent his career striving to achieve.

“Too busy to ask the mother of his child and love of his life to marry him?”
Allison stopped breathing. Love of his life ? Logan hadn’t told her he loved her. Did Rick know

something she didn’t? Her pulse started racing. Was she ready for the all-in commitment those words
entailed?

Her heart and her fears went to war. She knew which side she wanted to win. Maybe with a

little more time, her fears would fade and her heart would vanquish the dark cloud of doubt still
haunting her.

Allison’s email alert dinged. The sound pierced the silence in her office. “There will be plenty

of time to figure out the details. In the meantime, I need to get some work done.”

Devon sighed. “Okay, but keep me posted on those sexy firemen that arrive at your house. I

want the names of the best-looking ones.” She licked her lips. “I have a fire that a hot-muscled man
can put out for me any day of the week.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Allison grinned and shooed them away.
As Devon and Rick exited, they continued their amusing debate over the future name of Allison

and Logan’s baby.

Glowing warmth spread through her, as if an angel had descended from heaven and enfolded

her in its majestic wings. She’d never believed her life would become this rich and fulfilling. The
path she traveled now was bright and lush, the horizon brimming with beautiful possibilities.

She rested her hand on her abdomen, caressing gently. “Thank you,” she whispered to her baby.

“You are my precious miracle. You may not know it yet, but I love you with all my heart.” Logan and
their child were the best things that had ever happened to her.

A ring from her inbox alerted her to another new email. The first one she’d missed was a

company-wide announcement from Logan. The contract between Stone Security and the Brazilian
government was a go. Logan expressed his appreciation to everyone for their hard work and
commitment to excellence. Also, Logan had been contacted by several European nations and more
contract negotiations were in the pipeline. He’d keep everyone posted on the success coming their
way.

Logan was an amazing boss, an amazing man. Allison was so proud of him as a successful

businessman, her lover, the father of her child. She’d never felt such soul-deep happiness. Such
genuine contentment. Ever.

She wanted to hang on to the feeling with both hands and never let go.

Glancing at the most recent email, she clicked it open. It came from an address she didn’t

recognize. It might’ve been sent from a cell phone.

It read: Your car lights are on. Thought you’d want to know .
Probably one of the security guards. Her car was older. She didn’t have the fancy turn-off-by-

themselves beacons Logan boasted on his Escalade. She sighed, recalling their argument about her
driving separately when they came to work. She’d demanded to keep driving her own car, preserving
her independence. It was her small claim to freedom. Besides, Logan had evenings when he needed to
stay late. She’d go home and practice cooking, open a bottle of wine for him to let it breathe, looking
forward to him walking in the door…and the sexy night in store.

Grabbing her keys, she left her office. She grinned at the memory of how persuasive he could

be in the bedroom. She’d arrived late this morning. As usual, Logan had kept her in bed far longer
than she’d anticipated. Although, she’d gladly succumb to Logan’s sexual whims any and every
morning.

When she pushed through the back door to the underground garage, she recoiled at the scent of

garbage. She frowned. There were no collection containers in the enclosed area.

Over-sensitivity? As Stephanie mentioned at Thanksgiving, women’s hormones and senses

were out of control during pregnancy.

Scanning the rows of cars, she almost forgot where she’d parked. Her late arrival relegated her

to the farthest spot from the door. It seemed darker than usual down here, she noticed, passing under
the burned-out light behind her car. She’d let Logan know right away.

Then it dawned on her. The place was dark for another reason. Her lights weren’t on.
“You disappointment me,” said a man stepping out of the shadows.
The voice echoed in the unguarded chambers of her soul. She froze.
“You broke your vows, wife .”
Oh, God . She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.
“I warned you not to do that.”
A slip of air wheezed from her lungs. “Trevor.”
Forcing herself to turn, she didn’t dare leave her back to him. He stood several yards away,

dressed in black. The brim of his baseball cap cast the top half of his face in shadow, but nothing
muted the razor-sharp glint in his dark eyes. Those malevolent orbs had haunted her through countless
nightmares. He hadn’t changed.

Strong jaw cleanly shaven, narrow chin, harsh cheekbones, even harsher eyes. No trace of a

smile. It had always shocked her, once she learned the type of man he really was, that other women
found him handsome. Then again, so had she, once. He might’ve been any intriguing guy a girl ran into
at a bar. Five-foot-nine, cloaked in an edgy aura, hips slanted in an arrogant stance. He could
outmuscle most guys in a room, and wore tight shirts to display it. But then, given time, the packaging
fell away to reveal a mind fractured and demented by too much violence, too much blood, too much
hate. A soulless need to dominate. And a heart cold enough to freeze hell.

She shivered uncontrollably.
“Did you expect me to stand here with open arms?” he snarled. “Beg for you?”
“No,” she croaked.
“You owe me.” He thumped his chest. “You’re the one who should be on your knees, praying I

take you back.” He shook his head. “After all the chances I’ve given you.”

Always, he turned it back on her. “I left you, Trevor.”
“You weren’t thinking straight.”

“I’ve had more clarity in the four years without you than the four we were together.”
“Liar.” The hateful bark made her flinch. “I told you never to lie to me. That was always your

worst flaw. You underestimate my training. I know when people speak the truth. I should’ve done to
you what I do to those who double-cross me.”

“I’m not crossing you. You’re the one who stalked me .” Anger tangled with terror inside.
His eyes narrowed to knife-slits. “You are my wife. I have every right to you.”
“Wrong.” The vehemence in her tone seemed to shock him. But these words had been building

up for too long, a suppressed volcano ready to spew molten wrath. “I am not a paper doll you cut
away until I fit your sick mold. I think for myself. I make my own choices. I don’t need you for
anything.”

She watched his rage build like a Jenga game, piece layering upon piece until the structure

teetered at the edge of destruction. Once, she would’ve stumbled on her words, cowering before him,
ready to do anything to subdue his rage. Now, she was a match for him, in every way except
physically.

“You’ve changed.” He cocked his head, as if recalculating a complex equation.
“This is who I was meant to be, Trevor. I’m free of your screwed up ideal of what I’m

supposed to do to make you happy. You have no claim to me. You never will.”

His features contorted with disgust. “Is this some twisted game? You know I hate games,

Allie.”

“Don’t call me that. This is not a game. It’s my life. I don’t care what you think or believe. You

can’t control me.”

“No?” His hands flexed, knuckles cracking.
Old instincts battered her defenses, begging her to curl up in a ball and plead for mercy. She

refused.

Her glance darted to the nearest security camera, barely within range. She backed toward the

closest pool of fluorescent light. Would someone see them? Hundreds of cameras spanned the Stone
Security building and exterior. Logan’s staff couldn’t monitor every single one every second. The
bleak thought induced panic. Would anyone know she was in danger?

Trevor laughed, a low raking sound. He advanced as she retreated. “You think your lover will

save you?”

“Yes, he would. But I don’t need him to. I can save myself.”
“He’s not the man you need.”
“He’s the man I want. That’s all that matters.”
“I’ll remind you what matters.”
Quick as a lightning strike, he was on her. His hand clutched her throat. She choked, spluttered.

Maternal instinct raged through her flailing body. She fought him like a wildcat. Clawing, shrieking,
desperate to protect and defend her baby.

Then Trevor gripped the back of her neck, a move he’d used before from his Black Ops

training. He inflicted pressure just right to send shooting pain down her spinal cord.

“Stop,” she cried. “Trevor, stop!” She twitched, limp, in agony.
“Give me one good reason.” Spit flew from his curled lips.
“Baby,” she gasped. “Don’t hurt my baby.”
“What?” he roared. He released her with a shove as if she’d infected him with an incurable

disease. “What the hell did you say?”

Wheezing, she stumbled back. “I’m pregnant.”

If she had any hope of unearthing an ounce of compassion in Trevor, it dissolved in the next

instant. His fist was the last thing she saw before her skull exploded. A sickening crunch was her arm
shielding her abdomen as she hit the ground. She cried out in pain.

The stench of oil-stained concrete made her sick. Black unconsciousness pulled her down like a

tidal undertow she fought with all her might. Her lungs refused to take in air.

“You stupid whore.” Trevor railed above her. “That baby should be mine.”
The bang of a door echoed through the cement cavern. A gun cocked. A shot fired. Then car

tires squealed. A white blur sped away. Burning rubber singed her nostrils. She dry-heaved.

An unfamiliar face bent over her. “You’re okay, Allison.” The man picked her up and carried

her toward the building. “Stay with me,” he instructed. “Breathe. Slow, easy. In and out. The worst is
over.”

“Who—?” She chocked on a fit of coughing.
“I’m your bodyguard when Logan isn’t around. If anything happens to you, the boss will kill

me,” he muttered. “But I know you’re strong. Everything’s fine now… You’re safe…”

His soothing voice faded to muted tones. She stopped fighting and surrendered to the darkness.

CHAPTER 10

She had no idea how long she’d been out.
Upon waking, Allison winced at the pain hammering in her skull. Her body ached. Her wrist

was too heavy to move. Her cheek throbbed hotly, swollen.

Steady beeps and the smell of antiseptic told her where she was. Harsh fluorescent lights

singed her pupils as she forced her eyes open.

The first thing she needed to know: Is the baby okay?
Frantically, she traced the small swell of her abdomen. She struggled up to sitting, releasing a

groan. A man in a dark suit stood in the hallway with his back to her, arms crossed, guarding the door.

“Help,” she whimpered.
He glanced over his shoulder. She recognized his face as the one that had hovered above her as

he’d carried her away from danger. His eyes widened, seeing her awake, then he moved swiftly down
the hall. He murmured in low tones. Logan rushed into the room. He was at her bed in three strides.

Torment tightened his features. He brushed her hair back, half-sitting on the hospital bed. His

thumb smoothed her unmarred cheek. “How do you feel?”

“The baby.” She fisted her hand in his shirt. “Am I still…? Is everything—”
“Okay. So far.” He kissed her forehead. “The nurse did an ultrasound. Dr. Murray came by to

check on things. They said the baby is fine.”

She collapsed against him. “Oh, thank God.”
“My words exactly.” He gathered her in his arms. “You took the brunt of it, baby doll. You’ve

suffered a sprained wrist and a concussion.”

She stiffened. “Where is Trevor?”
“Out of the state, if he has any self-preservation in him,” Logan growled.
“I doubt it.” She started trembling. “No one stands in the way of what he wants.”
“He’s never met me.” Logan’s muscles tensed, but he checked his anger.
She thanked him silently. She doubted she could tolerate another fit of rage.
“I should’ve been there.” Angst coated his words. “I’m sorry, Allison.”
She shook her head. “Trevor planned this, waiting for the right conditions. He knew I was

parked far from intervention. He chose a time when no one was around. He caught me by surprise.”
She made a frustrated sound. “I should’ve been prepared. I should’ve known he’d—”

“Stop right there.” He cupped her face. “This is not your fault.”
Tears threatened. “I know better than to let my guard down. I should’ve been more careful.”
“Allison, if anyone’s to blame, it’s me.”
The tortured look in his eyes made her heart throb with compassion. “No, Trevor’s the one who

needs to accept responsibility.”

“That’s likely,” he bit out. “God, I wish I’d been there. I would’ve flattened him.”
“I know.” She curved her hand around his strong bicep, wishing he could hold her forever. But

if they had any hope of catching Trevor, they needed to act fast. “What about the police? Do they have

any leads?”

“Not yet.” He released an agitated sigh. “There’s an officer in the hall, waiting to take your

statement. Are you up for it? Because I can tell him to come back later—”

“I’ll talk to him.”
“You sure?” The concern in his expression touched her.
She nodded.
Logan paced, fists clenched, as she recounted to Officer Pratt the traumatic reunion with

Trevor. When she finished, the officer flipped his notebook shut. He looked like he’d swallowed a
razor. “Guy’s a freaking piece of work.”

Stepping forward, Logan looked ashen but resolute. “If he comes near her again, will I be held

responsible for my actions?”

The officer arched an eyebrow. “I’ll pretend you didn’t ask that, so your self-defense plea will

hold up better in court.”

“Logan,” she chided.
“What?”
“Don’t. Please. If Trevor comes back, let the police handle it.”
Logan’s jaw tightened. “No one lays a hand on my woman and walks away.”
“Trevor’s probably thinking the same thing,” Allison murmured.
Logan’s nostrils flared. “If that bastard so much as—”
The officer cleared his throat noisily. “I’ll head back to the station and plug your info into our

system. We have plenty to hold him on, until the FBI gets here. They’ll make sure he goes away for a
long time.”

“Not long enough,” Logan muttered. “We’d all be better off if the schmuck was d—”
The officer coughed an interruption. “I’ll get in touch the second we know something.”
“Thanks, Pratt.” Logan spoke to the man familiarly.
“Save it until we have him behind bars.”
“If you need me to call in any favors—”
“Take care of your girl, Stone. We’ll handle the rest.” He pointed a stern finger at Logan’s

chest. “And don’t go all commando on me, either.”

Logan’s eyes flashed.
“I mean it, Stone.”
After a moment of internal debate, Logan gave a tight nod.
Allison didn’t quite believe him. He and Trevor were too similar in makeup to let someone

else do the dirty work. She hoped the police got to Trevor first, or he might not be the one behind bars
when this was through.

*

The first two days after the attack, Allison slept. Logan took off work and monitored her

vigilantly. He woke her up at intervals for liquid hydration. Unused to being cared for like this, she
was grateful for his kindness.

The third and fourth day, he insisted she stay in bed. He expressed concern about symptoms of

her concussion and the baby’s health. He checked her temperature, shined a flashlight into her pupils,
pressed ice packs to her cheek, quizzed her constantly about how she felt, and engaged her in deep
discussions to ensure her memory was still sharp. Not to mention the frequent foot massages and back
rubs. He pampered her like crazy.

During one of his divine massages, she sighed softly. “Forget security. You missed your calling

as a masseuse.”

He grinned. “Just wait until you get my bill.”
The weekend drifted by in a lazy, gentle blur. Unfortunately, they received no word from the

police regarding Trevor.

Concern festered inside her like a leaky wound.
Monday, the week after her incident, Logan still stayed home. Very uncharacteristic. He thrived

in an environment of constant stimulus and action. The lack of forward-focus drove him into irritable
funks. She urged him to go to the office for a few hours. While his attentiveness was sweet at first, the
longer they were cooped up in the house together, the more his attention became smothering. He
treated her like an invalid, incapable of feeding herself properly, doing right by her body and the
baby. She could barely go to the bathroom without supervision.

They both suffered from a serious case of cabin fever. Outside snow piled up and temperatures

plummeted. He made those his excuses for not leaving her side. She often caught him in unguarded
moments, when he wasn’t on the phone for work, pacing with pent-up frustration.

By Tuesday afternoon, she needed to do something. She clicked off the television, bored to

pieces. Despite his thousands of channels there was nothing worth watching.

She went to the kitchen, snacked a little, and wandered into the foyer. Her gaze lingered

longingly on the front door. Fresh air might do wonders. She was beginning to feel restless, trapped.
She didn’t dare let those feelings build. She didn’t want her anxiety and claustrophobia to mount a
misplaced attack on Logan after he’d been so good to her.

The sound of heavy weights clanking filtered up from the basement. He worked out for hours to

take the edge off. She had no such luxury. He barely let her lift a finger.

Going to the hall closet, she donned her coat and ventured outside. The crisp air singed her

nostrils and filled her lungs.

Invigorating . She went down the steps and stood marveling at the winter wonderland.
The bare trees were stark and beautiful against the blue sky. They cast purple shadows across

sheets of crusted snow that glittered with blinding intensity. Squirrels scampered busily harvesting
their underground reserves. A cardinal flew past and perched on a nearby branch, its scarlet feathers
a delightful contrast to the wintry landscape. She inhaled deep and sighed with contentment.

Until the front door burst open.
Squirrels scattered and birds took flight. She turned to find Logan glowering. His hair and

clothes were damp from exertion, muscles glistening and powerful. “What the hell are you doing?”

She blinked. “Getting some fresh air.”
“You shouldn’t be out here.”
“Why? It’s beautiful.” She smiled.
He stared at her stonily. “Inside. Now.”
She rolled her eyes. “What, is an icicle going to get me?”
He didn’t share her amusement. “You’ll catch a cold or slip on the ice. Or worse.”
The or worse held weight. “Logan, your security system encompasses your entire property.

Deadly icicles or deranged deer or Trevor won’t get within shouting distance.”

“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is?”
“You need to be where I can find you. Don’t go outside again.”
Things declined from there. He became obsessed with her every move. He had an opinion

about everything. How much or little she ate. If she sat in the wrong position. If she didn’t sleep well

enough through the night. If she stayed on her feet too long.

“Geez, Logan. Give it a rest. I’m not that fragile,” she told him Wednesday morning. “You can

even leave the house. I’ll survive.”

“I’m not leaving your side. I don’t trust anyone to keep you safe except me.”
“Trust me when I say, if you give me one more order I’m going to lose it.”
“You could’ve lost your life,” he snapped. “Or the baby. I’m not taking chances.”
“So your solution is to make us both prisoners in your fortress?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
“We can’t keep going on like this,” she lamented. “I need my space.”
He spread his arms. “I have ten-thousand square feet of space. What more do you want?”
“To get out. I don’t do well in confined situations.”
“I don’t like this anymore than you.”
“Then do something to change it.”
“Like what?” he roared.
“Leave me be for one day!”
“Fine.” He stormed off. He disappeared into his study, returning phone calls the rest of the

night.

Feeling bad about their argument, she decided to make him breakfast Thursday morning. She

brewed coffee and cracked eggs into a skillet. Bacon sizzled. Potatoes browned. She smiled when he
padded barefoot into the kitchen wearing a navy robe.

He scrubbed his eyes. “What’s all this?”
“You said last week I’d get the bill for your massage services.” She winked. “I thought I’d

work it off in trade.”

He poured a cup of coffee, looked at the stove and frowned. “You shouldn’t have started the

eggs yet. Hash browns take the longest. The eggs will be cold, the bacon charred by the time the
potatoes are done.”

She jabbed the bacon with her spatula. “I’m still working on my timing.”
“You have to think things through, Allison. You’re a smart girl. I expected you to figure out

breakfast one-oh-one by now.”

“You know what? Forget it.” She grabbed the pans and emptied them into the disposal. “Sorry

I’m such a disappointment.” She threw the cook wear in the sink.

He paused, his coffee cup halfway to his lips. “What’s your problem?”
“Nothing.”
One of them needed to get out of the house. Preferably both of them. She was sick of his

constant harping, her faults their sole topic of conversation.

She called Devon. “I need you.”
“Uh-oh. What happened?”
“I have to get out of here. Logan is driving me crazy. He gives me orders like a damn drill

sergeant and I’m sick of it!”

Devon paused. “I think that’s the first time I ever heard you swear.”
“If it keeps going like this, I’ll be reduced to worse things than swearing.”
“Okay. Let me see what I can do.”
To Allison’s shock, they were in Logan’s Escalade heading to the office within the hour. Thick

silence built a wall between them. She hated this atmosphere of animosity. How had two weeks
reduced them to petty bickering?

She wanted to clear the air, but he seemed in no mood for discussion or compromise. She felt

she’d been more than fair and understanding, while he’d digressed into a tyrannical overlord.

It didn’t bode well for the future.
Her heart sank. What if they couldn’t make this work? What if she was too independent and he

was too controlling to the point of impasse?

The notion sickened her. She’d thought for sure they could get through anything. Look at what

they’d overcome so far? Yet their dual obstinacy only pushed them further apart.

After he rattled off a list of strict expectations, and the exact timing of her “retrieval,” Logan

dropped her off at the restaurant where she met Devon for lunch. He pulled away, heading to the
office.

Allison landed in the booth across from Devon. She felt defeated.
Devon offered a sympathetic look. “I take it he hasn’t improved in the last hour.”
“Not even close.”
They ordered lunch. Allison handed her menu to the server and slumped in the padded booth. “I

don’t know what to do.”

“Then don’t do anything.” Devon slid off her straw wrapper and sipped her diet soda. “Let it

pass. No relationship is perfect all the time.”

“I can handle imperfection. I was married to Trevor, for God’s sake. A homeless bum would be

an improvement over that.”

“Um, I wouldn’t mention that to Logan.”
Allison gave a half-hearted laugh. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful for all he’s done. Because

of him, I feel a sense of safety and security I never had before. But he’s going too far. I mean, he
berated me for going outside, five feet from the house.”

“Well, you know there’s been a rise in killer snowflakes recently.”
Allison smiled faintly. “That’s my point. I’m all for caution. Especially with Trevor still out

there—”

“They haven’t found him yet?” Devon looked as disturbed as Allison felt.
“No.” Her spirits sank further. “Nothing yet.”
“That’s not good.”
“But it’s no reason for Logan to treat me like a captive in my own life.”
Devon’s features softened. “You know he’s just worried. Logan’s not good at worrying. He

sees a problem, he solves it. Sitting this one out is probably taking a nasty toll on him, as much as
you.”

“But he won’t talk about it.”
“Of course not.” Devon stared as if Allison said she wanted to squeeze orange juice from an

avocado.

“You’re probably right,” Allison groused. “Still, honest communication would help. At least if

he admitted what his frustration is really about, he wouldn’t direct it toward me.”

Devon stabbed the ice in her soda with her straw. “Don’t hold your breath.”
“How can we build a strong, healthy relationship when he can’t even tell me what’s really

bothering him?”

“Hmm. You might need Dr. Phil for that one.”
“So we stand a better chance of getting on a national TV talk show than resolving this on our

own.”

“Not necessarily,” Devon stated carefully.

“I’m open to suggestions.”
“Like I said, ride it out.”
“That’s the best you can do?” Allison asked exasperated.
“Hey, I’m a software engineer. ‘If this, then that’ coding scenarios all day long. I do linear and

logical. Matters of the heart aren’t my forte, but I’m a half-decent listener.”

“I know. Thank you. It’s not your problem. I’m sorry to dump this on you.”
“Just call me the Problem Dumpster.” She grinned. “Load me up.”
Allison already felt better having vented her frustration. Lunch arrived, and she dug into her

turkey-bacon wrap with pesto mayo, and a side of loaded fries.

Across from her, Devon picked at her chef salad. They ate in companionable silence. She was

so glad she’d met Devon. Their friendship was irreplaceable.

As she reached for the plastic ketchup bottle, she absently glanced out the window. She stopped

mid-squeeze. A man in a dark suit stood beside a car with tinted windows. She’d never forget that
face, lean, angular and solemn. His appearance matched that of the man who’d come to her rescue in
the underground garage. The same man who’d stood guard outside her door at the hospital.

“Oh, my God.”
“What is it?” Devon looked up, on alert. “Is Trevor here?”
“No, not Trevor.” Flashes of memories pulled together and congealed. She’d seen him before

the encounter with Trevor. He’d often passed her in the hallways of Stone Security. Rode the elevator
with her on numerous occasions. Left work at the same time she did. She even recalled him standing
at the edge of the lobby when she encountered the inundation of gardenias. And hadn’t she seen him
sitting in an unmarked car parked on the street near Logan’s driveway?

How had she not made the connection until now?
She dropped her fork. The clatter drew the attention of diners around them. “Devon. I’ve been

followed.”

Devon’s eyes widened. “Trevor sent someone after you?”
“Not Trevor. Logan .”
“Okay, you lost me.”
“I can’t believe it. Logan’s had me followed. This whole time…”
“I need a little more to go on.”
“I don’t.” Allison had all the proof she needed that Logan didn’t trust her.
Trevor had done the same thing, hiring PIs to track her down, watching her every move.

Waiting for her to slip up, let her guard down, so he could gain control. No matter how many evasive
moves she conjured to trip him up, Trevor always found her. A predator—lurking, watching, waiting
for the moment to strike.

Panic consumed her with swift, brutal force. Her heart pounded. Needles prickled across every

nerve ending. Dizzy, the walls closing in, she shoved her plate away. She lunged from the booth
toward the door. She raced outside, gasping for air. She needed space, openness. She could run if
necessary, to escape confinement. Anything to make these horrible sensations go away.

When she exited the restaurant, the man in the suit turned toward her alertly. She grabbed her

stomach. Lurching to the brick side of the restaurant, she clutched the wall and threw up. Her legs
shook. Sweat broke across her brow. She just wanted it to stop. Please, stop .

A soft hand rubbed her back. “It’s okay, Allison. You’ll be alright.”
Devon’s words mirrored those of the man in the parking lot, when he’d carried her away from

her confrontation with Trevor. “No.” She shook her head, holding her stomach to keep from losing

more of her lunch. “It’s not okay. Call Logan.”

Within minutes, Logan swung his SUV up to the side of the restaurant.
“I don’t know what happened.” Devon’s concerned words accompanied Allison’s unsteady

climb into the passenger seat. “I swear, Logan. One minute things were fine. The next, she went into a
full-blown panic attack.”

“I’ve got it, Devon. Thanks.”
Her friend shut the door and Logan pulled into traffic. The congested streets ratcheted up her

anxiousness. She slapped her hand over her mouth to keep from retched in his car. She hit the button
to lower the window. Sweet, beautiful, moving wind hit her face.

“Relax, Allison.” Logan split his attention between her and the road. “You need to take steady

breaths. Not too deep, not too fast—”

“Stop telling me what to do!” She felt sick to her core. Everything was wrong. She felt like

Alice in Wonderland when she was stuck upside down on the ceiling, while life went on as normal
for everyone below.

“I know how to talk someone through panic, honey.”
“You don’t know,” she said bitterly. “You don’t know me at all.”
That shut him up for the next few miles. Gradually, she talked her traitorous body down from

the brink until she felt more in control.

Then she let him have it. “How dare you stick one of your watch dogs on me?”
Logan arched an eyebrow. He didn’t reply.
“Did you think I wouldn’t figure it out?”
He waited before answering. “I assessed the situation. I calculated the dangers. I did what I

knew was right.”

“Bravo.” Anger swelled inside her. “You go ahead and do whatever you want. Forget about

what matters to me. Forget about my needs and my choices.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I knew you wouldn’t like it, but I couldn’t be there

constantly to guard you. I didn’t want to argue with you about it.”

“Because you knew I’d say no.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Right.”
“You withheld the truth.” Her eyes flashed. “You decided for me—not with me.”
“I kept you safe. How does that make me the bad guy?”
How did he not get it? “After everything I’ve been through with Trevor, you should know

better. This is not some business strategy, Logan. This is my life.”

“So I didn’t tell you.” His tone intensified. “My decision saved your life, and the baby’s. Let’s

call it even and move on.”

Her hands shook as she tried to contain her fury. “You betrayed my trust, and you expect me to

move on like it never happened? Like you’ll do whatever you please, and I should shut up and deal
with it?”

His jaw hardened. “I did what I could to protect you—”
“To protect your baby.”
“Well, yeah.”
By removing her choice, he’d removed her from the equation. This wasn’t about her at all.

She’d let herself believe he respected and cared about her, not just wrapped up in the child she
carried. “If I mattered to you in any of this, you would’ve talked to me. Instead, you went behind my
back as if I don’t count. Like you did when you moved me out of my apartment without my knowledge

or permission. You can’t keep shoving your ideas down my throat and expecting me to swallow them
with no questions asked!”

Exhaling, he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Okay, I get it. Point taken.” He shook his

head. “I don’t get why you’re so upset.”

“I’m starting to see that.” It was a depressing discovery.
“What’s done is done. I can’t take it back.”
“Would you? If you could do it over, would you make the same choice to exclude me from

choices about my life?”

He stared hard at a point in the distance. “Considering the outcome…probably.”
“Then there’s nothing more to talk about.”
Liquid heartbreak welled in her eyes. Any hope she had of reaching Logan, of him changing his

MO out of respect and understanding, crumbled. Her chest felt hollow, like she’d been scraped raw.
The dreams and hopeful images of the future floated away like bright balloons into distant
nothingness.

Blinking rapidly, she refused to cry. She fought the devastation sweeping through her. He’d

removed every choice except one. She knew what she had to do.

Logan pulled into his driveway. He took the curves slow, mounting the hill at the top. The

second he cut the engine, Allison climbed out and slammed the door.

Frowning, Logan watched her disappear into the house. He didn’t like where this was heading.

She’d made him out to be some self-centered jerk, when everything he’d done was to keep her safe.

Why didn’t she trust him?
Moving her in with him was a no-brainer. Yeah, he probably should’ve told her about the extra

detail he’d put on her. Which he only did because he couldn’t be her bodyguard every second of the
day. His choice had saved her and their baby from Trevor.

Why couldn’t she accept that he’d made the right call?
He wasn’t perfect, but if he had one talent to his name, he knew how to keep people safe. She

conveniently ignored his valid concerns. Instead of understanding, even a trace of gratitude, she’d
handed him empty accusations. Worst of all, she’d put him in the same scumbag league as her ex. He
didn’t deserve that slap in the face.

He entered through the garage, threw his keys on the kitchen counter. He roughly discarded his

coat and called to her. “Allison, we need to talk.”

She showed up minutes later with a suitcase in hand. “For now, you’ve said all I need to hear.”
His gaze fixed on the suitcase. Its significance triggered a rising tide of volatile emotion.

“That’s it. You’re leaving.”

“I wanted a life with you, Logan. Not a golden cage.” The hurt in her eyes twisted his insides.
“This is not over.”
“Sorry,” she returned, “you’ve used up your chances to make decisions for us. From now on,

my choices count, too. I’m not going to be a bystander in my own life.”

He spread his arms. “You’re blowing this all out of proportion.”
She gave him a steely stare. “Am I?”
“Yes, damn it. I’m not Trevor.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
Rage exploded in him. “Don’t you dare compare me to him.” He spoke through clenched teeth.

“I’m not the enemy here, Allison.”

“You’re not acting like my partner. I won’t be ordered around to satisfy your need for control.”

His face went hot. “I have never controlled you.”
“I need time apart. To figure out if we have anything left worth saving between us.”
That hit him like a punch to the chest. For a second, he couldn’t breathe. “Why are you

punishing me for doing what I’m best at?”

She looked away.
“Allison, I make a thousand judgment calls a day.” He was the CEO for a reason, and he was

good at his job. “Do you expect me to stop before I decide anything and run it past you?”

“Only the decisions that affect me.”
“If that’s your criteria, then by all rights everything needs your stamp of approval. Because

what I do, every day, affects my life with you. You’re a part of me.”

A tear slid loose, gliding down her cheek. “There has to be a balance, Logan. We need a

separation. To figure out where we can compromise. If we can compromise.”

Angry and hurt and frustrated, he lost his temper. “Compromise? You’ve already packed your

bags. I should’ve figured this was coming. The going gets tough, someone gets too close, and Allison
runs. That’s why you keep your shit in boxes. You need your freedom so goddamn bad, you can’t see
when something’s worth sticking around for.” He whipped his arm toward the door. “Fine. Keep
running. I’m done chasing something that doesn’t want to be caught.”

Her face went white. “That’s not fair.”
“You want to talk about not fair? I’ve given you everything. I don’t understand what the hell you

want from me!”

The hurt and sadness in her eyes pummeled him. “I hope someday you will.”
It felt like everything he’d ever wanted was slipping through his hands. His heart shredded.

Stubborn, selfish pride took hold. Instead of saying I love you, stay , he retaliated. “When you walk
out that door, we’re over.”

“I’d hoped what we mean to each other was stronger than ultimatums.” Another tear, then

another cascaded down her face. “I was wrong.”

Then she left.
The click of the front door latch sounded like a cannon.
This wasn’t happening.
“Fuck.” His shout echoed through his house like a bullet shattering stained glass. “Fuck!”
He paced every square inch of his home. He bit his thumb nail down to the quick. He didn’t

even know what the hell he was trying to figure out.

All he knew was he had just watched his future walk out the door. And he wasn’t sure he could

get it back.

CHAPTER 11

Logan spent the next thirty-six hours straight at work.
He didn’t go home. He didn’t shave. He took showers at the nearby gym after working out. He

wore jeans and long-sleeved t-shirts, told the receptionists to hold his calls or take messages. The
rare moments he left the confines of his office, he glared at anyone who approached him.

He became a recluse in his own life.
He didn’t stop to care.
Work had piled up while he’d been home taking care of Allison. He had enough to keep him

preoccupied for weeks, if necessary. Anything to escape the emptiness growing inside him.

The sky darkened behind him as he hunched over his desk, absorbed in concentration.

Sometime after sunset, his office door sailed open.

He didn’t bother looking up. “Go away.”
“You look like something my cat hoarked up last night.”
Logan glared at Rick beneath the shelf of his brows. “A disgusting, hairy blob of puke. I’m

touched.”

“Don’t forget the mouse entrails.”
Logan dropped his pen. “Do you need something? Or did you run out of people to annoy?”
Rick sighed regretfully. “Everyone else went home. It’s eight o’clock on a Friday night. So

yeah, you’re it.”

“Go home to your wife and your happy life. Leave me alone.”
“Vivi has friends over for a scrapbooking party.” He shuddered. “I’d rather hang out with

rattlesnakes.”

“Keep bugging me, that’s what you’ll get.”
“Yeah, yeah. All rattle and no bite.”
Logan shot to his feet. “Try me.”
Rick slanted him a look. “You’re the crankiest son-of-a-bitch when your heart’s broken.”
“Nothing’s broken,” Logan muttered. Decimated, pulverized, reduced to a pathetic heap,

maybe. But not broken. No one would break him.

“When was the last time you slept?”
“Don’t remember.”
“When’s the last time you had a beer?”
“Too long.”
Rick nodded toward the door. “I’ve got a twelve pack of winter lager, your favorite

microbrew. Let’s hit your place, shoot some pool. It’s been a long time since we hung out.”

“Not in the mood.”
“Dude, you’d be doing me a huge favor. I mean, scrapbooking? C’mon, you’d really leave me

to that horrific fate?”

Logan scratched his unshaven jaw. “You know you’re bad off when your only alternative is

me.”

Rick eyed at him solemnly. “I’ll owe you.”
“Fine.” Logan exhaled. “I was sick of signing my name for the thousandth time anyway.”
“Thanks, man. You’re a lifesaver.”
At least someone appreciated Logan’s skills in that arena.
After a few hours, and more than a few beers, he felt less like cat vomit and more like himself.

Except for the monster-truck-sized hole in his chest where his heart used to beat. They shot pool, best
out of six. Logan won, as usual. For a guy with sniper training, Rick was a lousy shot on the pool
table. It felt good to win at something. Since he’d just lost the most important thing in his life.

“Heavy thoughts, my friend.” Rick knew him way too well. His friend dragged out a kitchen

stool and sat at the counter while Logan rummaged for food. “Care to share?”

“Nope.”
“Logan, this is killing you.”
“Whatever.”
“So you’re going the denial route.” Rick tapped his fingers on his beer bottle. “That’s not going

to get her back.”

“Screw that,” Logan growled. “I did nothing wrong.” Small comfort. He hadn’t come home last

night because he couldn’t handle sleeping in his bed without her.

“It’s no way to live, Logan.”
Existing was a better description. The thought of going through the rest of his life without

Allison amounted to a living hell. His eyes stung hotly. He blinked, took a long pull of his beer. His
favorite seasonal brew and he barely even tasted it.

“Nothing makes sense without her,” Logan admitted. “I don’t know. I guess somehow she thinks

by putting a guard on her, I was smothering her, or something. Oh, and all I care about is the baby.”

“If you and Allison went back as far and you and I do, she’d know better.”
“Well, we don’t. And she doesn’t know. It’s not about the baby—I mean, it is. Of course it is.

But it’s not only about the baby, never has been. I wanted her in my life before she got pregnant.”

“Have you told her that?”
“I think so.” Logan slapped his palms on the granite counter. “I don’t know. You think you’re

doing things right until she tells you you’re not.”

“Welcome to the rodeo. Step right up, you’ve got yourself a permanent front row seat.”
“Can I get a refund?”
Rick chuckled. “Doesn’t work like that, man.”
“She talked about needing to compromise. Then she accused me of stifling her, keeping her

caged. What the hell?”

“I’ll interpret. Compromise means meeting her halfway, each person gives one-hundred

percent. Not one person giving fifty-percent and the other giving one-fifty. Without balance, the whole
thing collapses.”

“Yeah, she mentioned something about balance,” Logan muttered. “And then I opened my big

mouth and accused her of running like she always does.”

“Ouch.”
“Not my finest moment, but I was right.”
“That keeping you warm at night?”
“No. Asshole.”
“There’s more to life than being right.”

Logan shook his head. “I can’t figure out why she’s so mad at me for protecting her.”
“Women are funny that way. They want the big, strong, macho type. But they also want us to go

against those instincts and give them their single-girl independence, too. A fine line to walk. Not for
the faint of heart.”

“I guess I failed. She’s gone.” Logan drained his beer in three chugs.
Rick pulled a Swiss Army knife from his pocket, went to the fridge and cracked open two more

bottles. “What can you do to change that?”

“No clue.”
“There’s got to be something. And it needs to be big enough to take her trigger finger off her

usual coping mechanism. You need to convince her to stay instead of run.”

Logan accepted the beer Rick handed him. “There may be one thing, though I don’t know if I

can do it.” He thought for a long moment. “What sent her over the edge was finding out about the
detail following her.”

“Oh, man. You didn’t tell her up front?” When Logan shook his head, Rick went silent. Logan’s

thoughts twisted into a thousand knots. Then Rick spoke quietly. “Put yourself in her place. She has
this brutal run-in with her ex, who’s notorious for lying, manipulating and stalking her. Then you do
the same type of thing by getting one of your guys to spy on her.”

“It’s not the same thing,” Logan denied fiercely.
“In her mind it is. She trusted you to take care of her. You went a step further. A step she wasn’t

prepared to handle.”

“That step saved her life.”
“At what cost to your relationship?”
Logan cursed, raking a hand through his hair. “You know the authorities haven’t found Trevor

yet.”

“You have more to prove to her than him.”
After a ferocious internal debate, he finally picked up his phone. “David, hey it’s Logan.

Operation Allison is over.”

After he hung up, he stared at his phone. “I hope I don’t regret that.”
“If it proves you’re willing to meet her part-way, and it gets Allison back, I don’t see how you

could.”

Logan had never experienced this level of anxiety knifing through him. But he’d made the

choice, the step. For her. “Let’s hope you’re right.”

*

When Allison woke Saturday morning, she felt groggy and out of sorts. She hadn’t slept well

Thursday night or last night, and it was taking a toll. Hoping a shower might lift her mood she put her
feet into slippers, slid on a robe and meandered down the hall to Devon’s guest bath.

It was strange, getting used to this new awareness of her pelvis. She’d “popped” a little, as

Devon termed it. There was a little bulge in her abdomen now. She was happy to see proof of the
small being growing inside her. She and Devon had Googled Stages of Fetal Development . She’d
spent awe-inspiring hours reading articles and gazing at pictures online of a baby’s growth from
conception to birth. At ten weeks, her child was the size of a corn nut, Devon determined, yet had
already developed all its internal organs, fingers, fingerprints and toes. And somewhere in there, a
tiny heartbeat pulsed with life. Hope. Promise.

Wistful, she let the hot water pelt her skin as she showered. She missed the master bath spa at

Logan’s. How he often followed her into the shower. She’d enjoyed watching soap suds skim down

his hard body. She remembered how good it felt when he massaged her with exfoliating scrub,
caressing from her neck to her toes.

Before the two weeks he’d confined her and lorded over her every move. Before she’d

discovered the secret he’d kept from her. Before he told her to never come back.

With a heart-heavy sigh, she stepped from the shower and toweled dry then hauled on a black

sweater and a pair of jeans. The jeans were a bit snug. But she wasn’t about to go to Logan’s and grab
a change a clothes. It would be too hard to leave again, and insulting to his insistence she not return.
Unlike him, she respected people’s needs and boundaries.

She should probably think about where to go next. The idea of returning to her former dingy

apartment made her stomach turn. She didn’t want to live in those conditions with her baby’s health
and safety her foremost concern. And she wanted to stay in Denver, despite the high cost of living and
her aversion to staying in one place. Trevor was already here, and the authorities would catch him
sooner or later.

She’d finally made friends, carved out a life for herself here. The first and only place she’d

ever considered home .

“Hey, early bird.” Devon’s voice filled the hall. “What are you doing up? It’s Saturday.”
Allison paused at the top of the staircase. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Again?”
She nodded. “I’m going down to make coffee.”
“You have the best ideas. I’ll be down in a bit.”
Some of Allison’s ideas were better than others. She was regretting packing her bags so

impulsively. The last thing Logan had said before their blowout was Allison, we need to talk . Maybe
she should’ve let him, before she walked away. But the realization of what he’d done behind her
back, and her panic attack, had been too much to handle. She’d needed space. Or so she’d thought.
Maybe what she needed to do was to stick around, and attempt to work it out.

Logan had been right. She was running again. And he’d run out of patience. She didn’t blamed

him. She was too good at leaving, and no good when it came to staying. A relationship wasn’t
something she could check in and out of, like a hotel.

It was a commitment. Something worth working for, fighting for, and treasuring all the good

times that got a couple through the tougher moments.

Instead of trying for something better than what she’d known before, she’d taken the path of

escape. No wonder Logan told her never to come back. She brushed away the dampness trembling on
her lashes.

As she filled the coffee carafe with water, she stared out Devon’s kitchen window. It was a

bright sunny day. Most of the recent snowfall had melted. She liked that about Denver. The snow
came hard but didn’t linger long, and most days she woke to blue skies and sunshine. She adored this
city. She didn’t want to move again. This was where she’d started over. A new job, a new city, a new
life, new friends, new passion, new baby, new love.

The carafe slipped from her hand, clanking against the sink. Water spilled over her fingers and

her lips parted. A terrifying combination of hope and need filled her. Yes, she had found love here.

I love Logan .
Her heart skipped a beat. Her hands trembled with piercing recognition.
The truth surrounded her, beckoning her to surrender to the emotion. To shatter her own

defenses and finally accept the love she felt for the best man she’d ever known.

“I’m in love with him.” The words rolled off her tongue as if they’d always been there, waiting

to be spoken. No second-guessing or denial. It was totally unexpected and absolutely amazing.

“What are you staring at?” Devon stood beside her at the sink and peered out the window. “Oh,

how about that. He’s gone.”

“Who?”
“Your watchdog.” When Allison looked at her blankly, Devon stated, “The guy Logan sent to

guard you. His car isn’t outside my house anymore.”

Allison parted the blinds. Sure enough, the unmarked car with tinted windows was nowhere in

sight.

A giddy feeling washed over her. She abandoned coffee making and rushed out to the front

stoop. She glanced up and down the street. No sign of the watcher.

Devon poked her head out the door. “This is a good sign, because after he left the military,

Logan forgot how to follow anyone’s orders but his own. Even when his brilliant chief information
officer tells him he can’t do something.”

Allison hesitated. “I need more convincing.” She returned inside the warmth of the house. “I

think we should take Peanut for a walk, just to make sure.”

At the magic word, Devon’s little Yorkie dashed into the room barking like crazy. Devon

sighed. “A walk, it is.”

After bundling up, they strolled the crisscrossing side streets of Devon’s neighborhood. Peanut

lifted his leg and marked every single tree and telephone pole they encountered, then trotted happily
toward his next vertical conquest.

“Men.” Devon rolled her eyes. “I swear it’s in their DNA.” Peanut caught sight of a new tree

and dragged them toward it. “This is mine. This is mine. Oh, and that’s mine, too,” she remarked with
amusement, personifying the male psyche,

Allison grinned. “So true.”
When Peanut finally ran out of marketing material and got bored with the scenery, Allison was

more than satisfied. No one was watching her.

“What if Logan called off his guard because I’m a waste of time?” She had never imagined

feeling let down by Logan’s lack of possessiveness, but it made sense. She’d walked out on him. He
might’ve decided to retract any ties they had.

“Doubt it. You’re the mother of his child.”
“Good point.” Logan wouldn’t relieve his stand-in bodyguard if he only cared about the baby.

“Maybe he’s seen the light.”

That hope hounded her the whole afternoon. What if he was willing to make up? What if they

still stood a chance at reconciling their differences, and making a future together?

At eight o’clock, Devon appeared downstairs wearing a slinky black dress. Allison tore herself

away from the laptop, where she’d been researching the likelihood of couples who were drawn
together by a pregnancy to last a lifetime. “What’s on your calendar that’s got you all gorgeous?”

Devon glanced at the floor. “I didn’t want to say anything before. You and Logan’s fate hanging

in the balance, and all.”

“I definitely don’t feel like going out. So where are you heading tonight?”
It was the first time she ever saw Devon blush. “On a date.”
Allison abandoned the computer. “Who is he?”
Devon picked at the sequins of her black purse. “Just this guy I’ve been talking to online.”
“Is he hot?”
“He sounds like it, but I’m not totally sure.” Apparently expecting Allison’s concern, Devon

quickly replied, “We’ve been talking for weeks through this dating site.” Her cheeks splashed with
pink. “He seems like a good fit for me.”

“You should’ve told me.” Allison stood and hugged her friend. “I can go somewhere else if you

want your place to yourself.”

“If it goes that well, we won’t make it back to my place.”
“You go girl.” Allison gave her a hug and shooed her out the door.
Devon climbed into her Prius and zipped off down the street toward her date. Allison

appreciated her friend’s consideration, not wanting to rub her big night in Allison’s face. While
Allison hung out alone, watching lame TV, wishing she was with Logan.

Without thinking, she reached for her cell phone. Pulled up Logan’s number. She didn’t mean to

hit send . She waited, anxious, hoping he picked up the call.

“This is Logan Stone of Stone Security. I’m unavailable to take your call now, but leave a

message and I’ll get back to you.” Beep .

Logan was never unavailable. Apparently, she was the exception now. Her heart broke into

pieces like a sailboat thrown against a cliff by a hurricane. She hung up. He really didn’t want her
back in his life.

I’m not going to cry. I’m not going to cry . Her chin wobbled.
She’d get through this. On her own. Like she always had.
France was still an option. Not the one she wanted anymore, but the option she’d take if Logan

didn’t want to be a part of her and her baby’s life. It just didn’t make sense, though. She agreed with
Devon. Logan might turn his back on her, but would he do the same to his own child out of spite?

Never.
She released a trembling sigh. Before leaving, she’d told him they needed time to think about

what the future held for them.

Now, she didn’t want time. She wanted Logan. Except she was unsure how to reclaim what

they’d had. Her ex-husband might not be entirely to blame for her shaky relationship with Logan, but
his reappearance and the destruction that came along with him hurled her into a new depth of loathing
for Trevor. She missed Logan, and finally appreciated the lengths he’d gone to ensure her safety.

Thirty minutes later, Devon’s house phone rang.
Allison leaped off the couch. “Hello?” she said breathlessly, praying it was Logan.
“Come out of the house, Allie.”
The air sucked out of her lungs until she gasped. “Trevor.” Revulsion surged up her throat.

“You have no right to call me.”

“If you don’t get your ass out here in ten seconds, Devon is a dead woman.”
The air froze in her lungs. “How did you get to her?”
“I’m giving you an order, wife .”
A sickening thought sent a shudder through her. Had Trevor posed as Devon’s “dreamy” date?

She wouldn’t put it past him. This defied the boundaries of manipulation, bordering on horror.

“I have Devon in the back of my van. Come out slowly. No phone. No weapons. Or I pump her

full of lead.”

“Oh, my God.” The phone slipped from her weak grasp.
“Do you hear me? If you hang up on me, Devon will be dead, and it’s your fault.”
Frozen needles prickled over her skin. She’d never let Trevor slaughter an innocent person. She

grabbed the phone, struggling for inner strength. “I’m here.”

Instinct screamed not to leave the house, but she had no choice. She’d go to him for now. Then

she’d find a way to run. She was good at that, she thought in quiet agony.

Leaving everything behind, possibly for the last time, she forced her gelatin legs to walk.

Through the kitchen, the living room, the front door. She didn’t dare grab a coat. One second could be
life or death for Devon.

Tears streamed down her face like hot liquid fear. “Okay, Trevor. I’m coming out.”

*

Rick tried to invite himself over again Saturday. Logan was less tolerant tonight. He ignored

Rick and worked through the evening in peace and quiet.

When streetlights below flickered on, he stretched and cracked his neck. Then he realized why

he’d experienced no interruptions. Engrossed with work, avoiding his emotions, he hadn’t noticed his
phone was dead. He couldn’t find the charger that plugged into his computer’s USB port. Annoyed, he
shut his computer down, his eyes scratchy from lack of sleep. He trudged down to his parking space.
As he pulled out of the Stone Security garage, he stopped at a red light. He used his car charger to
juice up his phone.

Within minutes his phone chirped alerting him to a dozen missed calls. He drove through

downtown and scrolled through the list. He flipped through quickly, ignoring the messages. Until he
saw Allison’s number pop up on his screen. He instantly dialed voice mail, deleting every message
until he found the one he wanted. His heart started racing. He licked his dry lips.

But when the message came through, all he got was a pause, then a dial tone.
“Damn it,” he snarled.
He threw the phone onto the passenger seat. His fingers clenched and unclenched the steering

wheel. Wasn’t he worth a message? A word? A sigh? Anything except getting hung up on?

It had to be Allison. Devon would’ve used her own cell phone to call him. She also would’ve

left a message. He punched the ceiling and released a curse of frustration.

Then he remembered something. Devon had mentioned a date Saturday night—tonight. The first

guy she’d gone out with in a long time. Logan had teased her about it, naturally. Devon was like one
of the guys. She’d actually blushed, like she was into this one. Said they’d been talking online for a
couple weeks. Then Logan had gone all big brother on her and drilled her: did she have pepper
spray? A weapon? A condom? The important things a woman should carry on her when she met a guy
for the first time.

For Logan, the excuse was too good to pass up. He retrieved his phone and called Devon’s

house. Hoped Allison would answer. The phone rang and rang. Strange. He tried Devon’s cell. It
rolled directly over to voice mail.

A quiver of concern went through him. Devon always answered for him, even if she was on a

date. The fact that he couldn’t get through to Allison’s or Devon’s cell phone or the house phone
nagged at him.

Without questioning the auto-response, he made an abrupt u-turn. Tires squealed. Horns honked.

He sped in the direction of Devon’s place.

Maybe if he and Allison saw each other, locked eyes, stood in the same room, she’d see how

much he missed her. Needed her.

He wouldn’t force her to change her mind, but maybe she’d acknowledge his peace offering of

calling David off her every move. Maybe she’d let him apologize for being a stubborn idiot. For the
ultimatum he hadn’t meant to give.

Then, down on his knees, he would ask her come home.

*

Trevor exchanged Devon’s place with Allison.
Allison didn’t make it easy for him, but he overpowered her, zip-tying her wrists.
“Don’t do this, Trevor.” She tried to sound brave and controlled, while her teeth chattered with

cold and fear.

“You are my wife. Mine . No one will take you away from me.”
“I’m not the woman you married.”
“You will be, after I break you in again. All I need is time.”
“Never,” she vowed.
“Just wait. I have plans for us.” The gleam in his eyes struck terror into her soul. What would

he do to her? To her baby?

“Trevor—!”
The van doors slammed. Through the murky windows, she watched Trevor toss a drugged

Devon over one shoulder and carry her into the house.

This might be Allison’s only chance. She screamed until her voice was hoarse. She pounded

her bound fists on the windows. She tried every door.

No escape.
She went for the horn. The blast of sound caused lights to turn on in neighboring houses. She

didn’t let up. Someone had to wonder what was wrong, had to call the police. Please…please,
somebody do something . Her heart pounded in her throat.

As she glanced around, a sparkle in the van caught her eye. Wedged half-under the seat she

found Devon’s purse. Frantic, she rifled through it. The cell phone was dead. Besides lipstick and a
condom, Devon had tucked in pepper spray and a small knife.

Allison heard the front door slam. Trevor stalked toward the van, his face contorted into a mask

of rage. She clutched the pepper spray, trying to catch the knife on her cuffs. She sawed the plastic,
gouged her hand, sawed further. Blood made her fingers slippery. She was almost free.

So close .
Suddenly headlights beamed into the rear windows. She stumbled to the back of the van.

“Help!” she cried, pounding on the windows, smearing the dust-caked panes with blood.

The other vehicle skidded to a halt and rocked with the force of the stop. A car door shut.
“I’m here! In the van. Help!”
A second later, the rear doors whipped open. Hope collapsed as Trevor stood over her,

uncompromising. Deadly.

He flung her out of the van, spun her around. The other vehicle’s headlights blinded her. A

shadow moved, blocking one headlight. Then a cold circle of steel pressed to her forehead. She froze.

“Drop the weapon.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs. Logan ?
Trevor’s forearm cut off her windpipe as he held her in front of him. She struggled to breathe.
“Take it easy.” Logan’s voice was shockingly calm. “I know what she means to you, Trevor.

You don’t want to hurt her.”

Trevor’s jaw clicked repeatedly. His face muscles twitched. A precursor to a psychotic

episode. This could turn ugly fast. “Take one more step, and I’ll blow her brains out.”

Allison choked. Her eyes stung. She didn’t want to die. She needed to tell Logan she loved him.

Needed to bring her baby into this world. She fought for every gasp of air.

“You came a long way to get her back. I won’t stand in your way. I just need to know this is

what she wants.”

“I know what she wants.” Trevor’s breath seethed against her cheek, the one he’d struck weeks

ago. How could Logan ever think she would return to this man?

“I get your loyalty. How much you need her. That’s natural. She was your wife.” Logan’s tone

was almost hypnotic. She imagined in his line of work he’d talked people down from the brink
before.

“She is my wife. A piece of paper from the court doesn’t change that.”
“That’s true. The courts would never realize what you’ve been through together.”
“I was out of the country. I couldn’t fight them all.”
“No, it was too much. One battle at a time. I’ve been there. I know where you’re coming from,

and they had no right to take her away from you.”

“That’s right.” Trevor removed the blunt pressure from her temple.
Allison realized Logan’s tactic. As she wriggled her wrists against the half-cut plastic bindings,

she stacked the odds in Logan’s favor.

“It was all a mistake, Trevor.” Although it sickened her, she played to her ex-husband’s twisted

belief that possessiveness and violence equaled love. “I didn’t know you still cared this much.”

“You ran away from me.” Trevor’s voice grew unsteady. The hand holding the gun flexed with

a spasm.

She flinched, held her breath. The barrel steadied.
Inching forward, Logan said reasonably, “If you still love Allison, I want you two to be happy.

I won’t stand in your way.”

Allison’s heart dropped. She knew what Logan was trying to do. Still, the words stung.
“Damn straight you won’t.” The clicking in Trevor’s jaw intensified, as did his facial tics.
“Logan’s right,” she said.
“Don’t speak his name.” Trevor flexed his forearm.
“Okay. H-he’s right,” she stammered. “I missed you but I thought we couldn’t be together. Then

I met him. He reminded me of you.” She flicked a nervous glance at Logan. The slight narrowing of
his lashes was only reaction.

“The good things,” she added, hoping Logan knew she was playing along. Then, holding

Logan’s gaze, she spoke directly to him. “Your steady strength. The way you opened your life to me. I
never knew what kindness and passion were until I met you.”

Logan’s face went blank. Then she caught the depth of emotion swirling in his eyes.
“I gave you every reason to back out, to walk away. You stayed. You gave me time, letting me

learn how to trust again. Lowering my defenses with patience and protection.”

Trevor murmured something she didn’t hear. These two men were completely different. Guilt

knifed through her, thinking how unfair it was she had compared Logan to Trevor during their fight.

“I ran because that’s what I always did. It’s all I knew. I was afraid of taking the next step. I

made a huge mistake. I’d give anything for a second chance.” A tear slid down her cheek. She
whispered, “I love you.”

Logan’s lips parted. He was about to speak but stopped himself, his almost-words a puff of air

in the chill night.

“It’s about time you came to your senses, Allie.” Trevor’s death-grip eased off her throat.
“I’m sorry, too.” Logan’s voice was gruff. He looked at her with heart-wrenching devotion. “I

didn’t understand what you needed. I was holding on too tight, when I should’ve let go and trusted
things would work out. I wasn’t comfortable with that. I’m still not, but I’m trying. I’ll work past it, if
that’s what you need. I’d do anything to make you happy.” His voice cut out and he swallowed hard.

“Good.” Trevor nodded. “You heard her. She’s happier with me.” He took the gun away from

her head and directed Logan with it. “Get in your car. Pull away slowly. And never look back.”

Allison coughed to cover the snap of her cuffs breaking. The plastic dropped to the ground. She

gripped the mace.

“There’s one problem, Trevor.” She wrenched out of his grip. “I wasn’t talking about you.”
Before he could react, she aimed the mace at him. Pressing with all her might, she emptied the

canister of liquid poison into his eyes.

Trevor howled, cursed, clawed at his face. Thrashing, he knocked her hand away, throwing her

off balance. He brandished the gun wildly. Blind, he aimed in her direction.

Logan moved like a swift, silent shadow. As Trevor pulled the trigger, Logan dove, caught her

around the waist. They landed on the pavement. He rolled out of the bullet’s path, his arms and body
cushioning her and the baby from impact.

Then Logan lunged to his feet, knocking the gun from Trevor’s hand. The weapon skidded

several feet before sliding under the Escalade.

Then Logan hauled back and punched Trevor so hard she heard something crack. Trevor’s head

snapped back. He fell like a hollow tree, hit the ground and didn’t move.

When the threat was no more, Logan turned to her. Allison sat up as he dropped to his knees at

her side. He slid his hands over her, checking for wounds. “Did he hurt you?”

“I’m okay.” She nodded shakily. “Just hold me.”
Logan gathered her in his arms, clutching her tight as sirens in the distance screamed toward

them. The fear eased like an ebbing tide. She was free. Trevor would be taken into custody. He’d
never stalk her or hurt her again.

Face buried in Logan’s coat, she gathered her courage. “Logan, can we give us one more try?”
He tipped her chin up. Their eyes met in wordless need, relief, passion.
“I love you, Allison.” He captured her lips in a searing kiss. “Be my wife. Let me love you for

the rest of my life. And we can have as many tries as it takes to get it right.”

“Promise?”
He smiled with aching tenderness. “I told you, I’d only ask the love of my life to marry me if I

knew the answer was yes.”

“Yes,” she whispered.
He kissed her passionately.
The worst was over. They were together. That’s all that mattered. At last, she had everything

she’d always wanted, all she could ever need, with Logan.

“Then, the diamond you gave me is finally an engagement ring?”
His warm brown eyes shone with enduring love as he revealed, “It always was.”

EPILOGUE

“Now that’s a baby bump.” Devon stared at Allison’s round belly, draped with the elegant

satin folds of her wedding dress. They stood in front of an etched mirror in the changing room of the

banquet hall.

Allison rolled her eyes. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.” She sighed. “I told Logan we should just go

to the courthouse.”

“He’s getting married—he wants a real wedding, all the bells and whistles.”

“And a pregnant bride?”

“Go big or go home.” Devon grinned.

“Stress on the word big .” Allison curved her hand around her six-month baby bump. “When I

pictured a dream wedding, it didn’t include me waddling down the aisle.”

“You look amazing.” Devon fluffed the train of the dress then adjusted the veil cascading down

Allison’s hair. Her blond waves were pulled back in a half-up-do, a few tendrils framing her face.

Honestly, she felt fantastic. Once the first trimester of sickness and exhaustion ended, she breezed into

the second trimester with no problem. She was so excited about their baby. Our baby boy . The

ultrasound last month confirmed what her dream had told her, what she’d known in her heart.

Then Allison noticed a hint of nostalgia softening Devon’s dark eyes. “What is it?”

Devon blinked away the sheen. “I hope I’m half as beautiful—and happy—as you on my

wedding day.”

“You’ll be twice as gorgeous, and crazy happy. I’m sure of it.”

“I don’t know.” Devon’s shoulders sloped under the lavender straps of her bridesmaid dress.

“What you and Logan have is really special. I’ve never seen two people more in love. I just don’t

think it’s in the cards for me.”

Allison squeezed Devon’s arm supportively. “The past doesn’t determine the future. Trust me.”

Devon snorted. “Please. I’ve got serious baggage.”

“And I didn’t when I met Logan?”

“Plus mega trust issues. Did I mention those?”

A pang of remorse hit Allison. Trevor had manipulated Devon with online romance into

thinking he was her dream man, when he’d really been using Devon to get to Allison. Now, Trevor

was behind bars and would never see the light of day except in a prison yard. “Believe me, I

understand. But the right man will look past all that. He’s going to sweep you off your feet and blow

your mind, before you know what hit you.”

Devon looked unconvinced. “We’ll see.”

“Yes, we will,” Allison stated as if it were fact. In her mind, Devon would find love, no matter

her internal scars. “There are great men in the world, I know that now. I’m marrying one today.”

Devon shook off her self-reflection and gave a bright smile. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

She glanced at the clock above the mirror. “The ceremony starts in fifteen minutes. You sure you’re

ready?”

“More than ready—and more certain than I’ve ever been about anything.”

Heart swelling with honor and gratitude for her husband-to-be, Allison held up the necklace

Logan had given her an hour ago, when he broke all the rules and peeked in to see how she was

doing. He’d stolen a swift passionate kiss from her, messed up her lipstick, told her he was the

happiest man alive, and dropped something into her palm before he left. She’d unfolded her fingers to

find a sparkling sapphire jewel ringed with diamonds. Tears almost ruined the rest of her makeup.

Last night, she’d been in a panic about having nothing blue to wear on her wedding day, to go with the

old wives tale: something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue .

The something old was a wonderful surprise, when she’d learned Logan had contacted her

parents and flew them into Denver from Spain for the wedding. She’d feared the reunion would be

tense with years of unspoken thoughts and feelings. Her mother brought her a brooch to pin to her

wedding gown that had been in their French background for generations. True to her parents’

demeanors, they were all drama and flair, but in a good way. They gushed over the baby, over Logan,

over Allison even. Showered her with praise about how their little girl had grown up. The light in

their eyes was genuine, their thrill to be in her life again, tangible. Maybe it was the distance and the

time apart, or the joyful occasion that brought them all together again, but the bitter residue coating

Allison’s heart over long-ago expectations washed away.

Her father would walk her down the aisle. She couldn’t ask for more.

The something new was an elegant pair of pearl earrings Devon gave her as a wedding present.

The something borrowed was Vivi’s garter belt from her and Rick’s wedding, which slightly

mortified Allison, but she decided what the heck. It apparently brought them many happy years of

marriage and four kids. Allison couldn’t say no to that.

Something blue . That’s what had stumped her last night, as she lay in bed tossing and turning,

fretting over details she couldn’t control but wanted to anyway. Logan, amazing groom that he was,

had made love to her and promised everything would work out fine. Today, he’d brought her the

something blue that had been missing. Symbolic of how this man had come into her life and provided

the caring and love she’d been missing, even if she’d been blind and resistant to it at first. He always

came through. She loved him so much. Logan was everything she wanted, all she would ever need.

Separating the fastener, she draped the dazzling blue jewel around her neck. “Will you fasten

this for me, Devon?”

Her friend connected the clasp and pulled her hair free from the chain, adjusting her golden

waves again perfectly. Devon squeezed Allison’s shoulders and smiled. “Now, let’s go get you

hitched.”

Grabbing the bridal bouquet—white lilies, sprigs of lilac, and pink roses bundled with a

lavender ribbon—Allison followed Devon’s lead through the hall, down the staircase, across the

main corridor toward the grand banquet hall entrance.

Allison’s father waited there, his large stomach and regal air lending a grand presence to the

event. No surprise there. He wore a finely-tailored tuxedo with the European flare of tails, something

out of a Dickens novel.

“Papa.” She ran the few feet that separated them, throwing herself into his arms. His rotund

belly and her pregnant one made the hug humorously awkward. She laughed. “I love you, Papa.”

“Ah, I love you, petit belle mariee .”

Her parents hadn’t blinked when they learned she was pregnant and about to be married to the

man she loved. The nice thing about a European sensibility regarding love and lovers and marriage

and children. Que sera, sera . Whatever will be will be. They’d been thrilled. “Thank you for being

here for me, Papa.”

Wistfulness touched his eyes with moisture. “I am glad for your happiness, that you will be

happy as you and your mother and I have been happy these many years.”

“I am happy. And I’m glad, too.” Allison blinked hard. She knew her parents had always loved

her, even though once it had seemed like they’d split their love three ways, for each other, for

performing, and for their daughter.

Now, because of Logan and their baby and her work at Stone Security, Allison understood that

love was a many-faceted thing, like the jewel around her neck and the engagement ring on her left

finger. When a heart was filled with passion, respect and trust, there was enough love for all things

dear to her. More than enough.

The doors swung open. Pachabel’s Canon came to a close and Beethoven’s Wedding March

executed grandly from the piano and violins.

Devon met Rick at the rear and they looped arms, as maid-of-honor and best man, and moved

down the aisle. The only two people in their wedding party, which suited Allison just fine. The two

people who’d made her and Logan’s relationship possible with their support and encouragement.

Then the music accelerated to a crescendo, the cue to the bride and her father to begin the

journey down the aisle. The journey that would take her from her father’s hand, her father’s love, to

the hand and love of the man she would spend her life adoring.

The packed audience stood. They turned in her direction.

She appreciated that many of the people there were Stone Security associates, plus many others

she didn’t know. There was family, too, and dear friends, and everyone there to celebrate something

beautiful. Allison was pleased so many people came to honor their union.

Surprisingly, her nerves behaved. The last remnants of anxiety melted as she walked toward her

future with Logan. As if she were walking down the aisle for the first time—in her heart and mind,

she was. Logan was her true love. Everything in her past had simply brought her to this moment of

perfection.

Halfway down the aisle, as music and support poured around her, Logan turned to face her. His

expression took her breath away.

The moisture in her eyes reflected the light-catching shimmer in his. He was so handsome, so

devoted to her and to this, their moment of ultimate union.

Their eyes met and held. Pure love passed like a wave of knowing between them. He was hers.

She was his. For all of time.