Logan's Redemption (7 page)

“Doriana,” Logan said.

She jerked her attention back to him.

“Where were you just now?” he asked. “You zoned out.”

I was in the past,
she wanted to say.
A most dangerous place
. “I’m tired,” she said instead.

“You don’t look tired now.” He drew closer, his eyes darkening. “You look beautiful.”

“Don’t,” she said, staring down at the Formica countertop. A thought left dangling a few minutes ago worked its way through her mind. She looked at him. “Arizona? Is that where you’ve been living?”

His jaw tightened for a second. He shrugged. “There, among other places. I don’t stay anywhere too long.”

Regret, like a sharp knife to the heart, stabbed her. He’d leave again. At least this time she wouldn’t be seventeen, crazy in love with him and pregnant with his child. Needing to compose her thoughts, she bit down on her sandwich and stared at the other diners. She felt Logan watching her, but refused to look at him.

Horns blared all around them as cars wended their way through the congestion. Muted shouts came from inside the small row houses surrounding them. At the end of the counter two elderly men argued passionately in Italian.

Feeling in control again, she swung her attention back to Logan. A mistake. They stared at each other. Away from the protective confines of her office with its computers and gadgets, she stood with Logan on a street that technology forgot. For a slice of time she was a teen again, sneaking dates with the wild kid from the rough part of town.

Her parents would have packed her off to a convent in Tibet if they could have seen her clinging to Logan’s waist as they sped through the city on his sleek black motorcycle. She’d been so young and free spirited. What had happened to that girl?

“You’re not eating,” he said softly, breaking the spell.

“Yes, I am.” She bit down on her cheesesteak.

They finished their food in silence. Around them the city hummed with noises. The wind blew litter along the gritty streets. She coughed as strong diesel fuel shot from the exhaust of an ancient Mercedes. All her senses were heightened. She hadn’t felt this alive in years. Being with Logan did that to her. Fear shot a bullet of caution through her. She could handle Logan. Of course she could.  

“The dirt blowing around and the fumes from the cars add something to the taste,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.

He laughed softly.

“Logan, why did you come back here?” The question that had burned her since the day he walked into her office slipped out.

He glanced away. His breath hovered in the cold air before dissolving. When he looked at her again, tension bracketed his mouth. “I was between jobs. A friend offered his apartment and car for a few months while he was out of town.”

“So you really are a transient,” she said.

He gave a short harsh laugh. “Yes, sweetheart. Do you have a problem with that?”

“Why should I care?”  She hated how flippant she sounded, but she couldn’t let him know that a small part of her did care that his life took a wrong turn.

“Right, why should you care?”  Bitterness and hurt laced Logan’s voice.

Their friendly banter broken, Doriana concentrated on wrapping the remains of her sandwich. Her appetite had dissipated in the sadness that sliced her. Logan had walked out on her and left her to raise a son alone. Maybe things would have been different for both of them if she’d had a chance to tell him about Josh all those years ago.

She sighed. There was no going back.      

Determination to protect her own heart, and her son’s, stiffened Doriana’s spine. She’d  made the right decision in not telling Josh and Logan about each other. She had. Somehow she didn’t quite believe it.

“Thanks for dinner, Logan,” she said later when they’d pulled into the company garage. The ride back had been quiet and tense. Too much hurt and too many memories rode with them.

“You’re welcome,” he said in a tight voice. He parked in the spot next to her Jaguar and cut the engine.

She unbuckled her seatbelt. She knew she should leave, but something held her. Something intangible that filled her with a bittersweet yearning for what might have been.

He turned to her, draping his arm over the back of the seat. “Doriana, understand that there are things about me I can’t share with you. With anyone. My life is different from yours. It always has been. I’ve learned to survive.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation,” she said.

He reached out to rub his knuckles under her chin. Excitement shivered up her spine.

“I’m not giving you one,” he said. “Just don’t judge me too harshly. Accept me for what I am.”

The Jeep suddenly got very small. Logan’s hot gaze seemed to weld her to the seat.

Memories rushed her. They were teens again, sitting in her Mustang, making out, doing things no well-brought-up girl should. Warmth pooled in her private parts. She welcomed the feeling. It had been so long.

“Doriana,” he whispered. He reached behind her to unclasp the large barrette holding her hair and tossed the piece of plastic into the back seat. Freed of its confinement, her hair fell over her shoulders.

He slid his fingers through her hair. His scorching gaze burned. “So beautiful.”

Then his lips were on hers, harsh and demanding. She held herself rigid at first, trying to resist his sensual pull. But she ached for him, for what she knew he could give her.

Lacing her arms around his neck, she surrendered to his touch. His lips softened against hers and he curved a hand around her nape drawing her closer. Uttering tiny sounds, she parted her lips, welcoming the hot invasion of his tongue.

His sensual, practiced kiss burned her with needs that had gone unfulfilled for so long. For a fleeting instant, she wondered how many other women he had kissed in the past years. She didn’t care. Not now. Not with him sucking on her bottom lip like that.

Cradling the back of her head, Logan left her mouth to string a line of kisses along her jaw.

She twined fingers through his thick hair. The crisp waves sprang to life at her touch, just as she remembered.

He unbuttoned her coat and slid his hands to caress her back and the sides of her breasts. Her blood quickened. God, she wanted him.

The thought hit her like a block of ice thrown at her head. She jerked away. She wasn’t sixteen. She was the mother of a teenager. And she was in a car making out with a man she hardly knew anymore. Raging hormones, unused for so long, had rendered her temporarily insane. That was the only explanation.

Logan looked at her with passion-filled eyes before a harsh mask settled over him. He moved away. “I’m sorry. I never meant that to happen.”

“Neither did I,” she said in a shaky voice. “It must have been the cheesesteaks.”
And too many memories
.

“It’s my fault,” he said. “I know better.” He hit his hand on the steering wheel. “Damn, how could I have lost control like that?”

“We both lost control,” she said.

“No, you don’t understand. I’m responsible.”    

She angled her chin, holding onto whatever pride she had left. “Let’s forget it.” She needed to go home and nurse her humiliation in private. She fumbled for the door handle.

“Stay there. I’ll get it for you.” He slid quickly out of the car and walked to her side, opening the door for her.

She headed toward her car with Logan close beside her.

“I’m okay,” she said when she reached her car.

“Get in and lock the doors.” His features were tight as he scanned the room.

“What are you looking for?” she asked.

“Oh, hell, Doriana, get out of here. For your own sake.” He reached out a hand, then  dropped it.

She started to protest that he couldn’t bark orders, but something in his eyes and his alert stance silenced her. She got into her car and locked the doors.

She backed out too fast, making her tires squeal on the cement. As she sped away,  she risked a glance through her rear view mirror. Logan stood still, staring after her.

* * * *

Logan watched until her car was out of sight. He wanted to throw something and curse to the heavens. What the hell was wrong with him? What if whoever was in the garage earlier still lurked? He had risked both of them by his carelessness. He wouldn’t tolerate that kind of sloppiness in any of his people.

Damn! He hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her. He wasn’t a green nineteen-year-old. He knew the consequences. He had to stay away from her. He had a job to do, and he’d fallen down today. He couldn’t bungle the assignment, but most of all he couldn’t lose his integrity. Sometimes it was all he had.

Doriana was off limits. As soon as this job was over he’d be gone. Back to the sunshine. And loneliness. The past was better left dead. For both of them.

The memory of her full, sweet lips and her heated response tortured him on the long, cold ride home.

~~~~

CHAPTER FIVE

The shrill ring woke Logan from a fitful sleep. Instantly alert, a habit learned from years in the military, he reached for his phone and flipped it open.

“Tanner, it’s Callahan.”

“What’s happened?” Logan rubbed a hand over his eyes. The greenish light from the digital clock cast an eerie glow over the dark room and illuminated the time. Five o’clock. Monday morning? He’d gotten so little sleep over the weekend he wasn’t sure what day it was.  

“Our building was broken into sometime between Saturday night and this morning,” Callahan said. “The guards found one of the rest rooms trashed.”

Saturday night. A shiver shot up Logan’s spine. He’d felt someone watching them in the garage. He should have done a more thorough search, but he was so intent on getting Doriana away from danger, he got sloppy. He could have put them both in jeopardy. That wouldn’t happen again.

“Are you certain they broke in?” Logan asked. “Could they have used a key?”

“It was a break-in.” Anger hardened Callahan’s voice. “The culprit disabled the security cameras in the garage and forced open the side door. Damn guards. Probably sleeping. I had the agency fire them.”

And will probably fire me too
, Logan thought. Damn. He should have given this job to a subordinate. Being with Doriana skewered all his training and common sense.

Restless, Logan paced the large room, holding the cell phone to his ear while Dan talked. Just like he couldn’t keep the gray tendrils of dawn from forcing their way through the heavy curtains, he couldn’t keep thoughts of Doriana from his mind. Or his heart.

“Those are my thoughts,” Callahan said. “Any suggestions?”

Logan started. He had quit listening to Dan. He was really slipping. “I’ll meet you at your office. We can discuss it better there.”

* * * *

Doriana heard about the break-in from the day guards when she arrived at work. An uneasy feeling stole over her as she rode the elevator to her office. Logan had been in the building Saturday at least an hour before her. He would have had plenty of time to trash a bathroom.

But why would he do something so juvenile? Was he trying to send a message? Was Logan involved in the thefts and vandalism?

When she got to her office Logan wasn’t at his desk yet. The uneasiness stayed with her even as she brewed a pot of coffee and turned on her computer.

She poured herself a cup of the strong brew, inhaling the nutty fragrance, and walked to the window to stare out at old Billy Penn.

“What reason would Logan have to sabotage us?” she asked Billy. “What’s in it for him?”

Money. The thought chilled her. Logan was a transient. He’d told her as much. Did he make his living from stealing? No, it couldn’t be. Logan had too much integrity. He always did.

“Doriana.”

She jumped at Logan’s voice coming from the doorway. Coffee splattered on the floor.

“A little nervous this morning?” Despite his teasing words, his expression was grim.

“You startled me,” she said.

“Sorry.” He walked slowly toward her.

His animal grace made her insides shake with longing. She clutched her coffee mug as if it could protect her from her instant reaction to him every time he got near.

“This is yours,” he said, holding out his hand.

The barrette he’d taken out of her hair Saturday night rested in his calloused palm. The memory of their hot kiss in the car seared her. She reached out to take the ornament, careful not to touch him, and curled her fingers around the plastic, still warm from his touch. Her misgivings of a few minutes ago melted away at his closeness.

He looked tired. Her fingers itched to touch his faint stubble of golden beard and smooth her fingers over the lines of exhaustion around his mouth. Had he had as much trouble sleeping as she? Did dreams of the kiss they’d shared keep him awake?  

She stared into his eyes. Knowing eyes. Sensual eyes. Excitement and the promise of danger skittered along her nerve endings. She straightened her spine. She didn’t know if she could trust Logan. More importantly, could she trust herself around him?