Those cobalt eyes tracked her as she carefully descended the stairs, making Weslee feel cold and hot all at the same time.
“You look very beautiful, Miss Campbell,” he said in a low voice.
“Thank you.” She smoothed a hand down the front of her skirt. “I haven’t dressed up in so long I almost feel like Cinderella going to the ball.”
“That would make you her prince charming,” Inez said to Logan. “Just don’t let her run away at midnight.”
A muscle worked in his cheek as he shifted his focus to Inez. “Yes, ma’am. I promise I won’t let that happen.”
Jon came forward and kissed Weslee on the forehead. “You look just like your mother,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “She and Marcus would be so proud of you.”
“That means a lot to me,” Weslee said in a shaky voice. “She was the most beautiful woman in the south so I appreciate the compliment.”
Jon turned to Logan. “I hope you’re prepared to play the role of her boyfriend and thwart off any unsavory men,” he said, sounding very much like a father. “Money doesn’t necessarily mean they have manners or morals.”
“I’m very aware of that, sir.” A hint of amusement touched Logan’s mouth as he directed his attention back on her. “Miss Campbell and I have already discussed this. She’s promised to only dance with those men that I approve of.”
They talked like she was a little girl, not a grown, independent woman. “I didn’t exactly promise—” Both men looked at her sharply, cutting her off mid-sentence. She rubbed her lips together. “Of course, I’ll take his advice into consideration, but he does not need to act like he’s my boyfriend.”
The last threads of humor disappeared from Logan’s face, making him look downright dangerous. “I’ll play whatever role needed to make sure you’re safe.” He turned and addressed Jon. “If I believe she’s in any danger at any time, sir, then we’ll leave immediately.”
Weslee felt it was wise not to argue any further. Like Cinderella, she didn’t want to miss the ball because she was locked in her room. Waving goodbye, she and Logan exited through the front door.
Logan’s brooding demeanor reminded Weslee this wasn’t a real date as he helped her into his SUV. For safety, he insisted on driving his own car. At least they wouldn’t be stuck in the back of a limo, staring at one another in silence.
They drove for a few miles without speaking to one another. It wasn’t a comfortable silence like the kind couples experience. Instead, each passing second made the tension grow tighter and tighter until she was sure something would snap.
Once they were on the Coronado Bridge, Logan finally spoke. “You were just messing with me in there, right?”
“I wasn’t messing with you,” she said, knowing there was a difference between rebellion and independence. “I promise I’ll take your advice into consideration, but I don’t want to appear anti-social. This event was important to my parents. People knew them well and loved them. I want to carry on their legacy, and refusing to dance with someone could have negative effects on potential donors.”
Lips pressed firmly together, Logan focused on the road. Traffic was heavy, and when they were barely crawling along, he glanced her way. “I’ll try to keep your feelings in mind, but like I told Mr. Curtis…I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure your safety.”
“Thank you.” She wanted to tell him that she would cooperate with him. Both he and Kate took their job of protecting her seriously. She didn’t want anything to happen to them, knowing they would put their lives on the line to keep her safe.
They finally arrived at the Hotel del Coronado. The beautiful wooden structure was like a beacon in the night, glowing with activity. Men and women, dressed like they were on the red carpet for a Hollywood premiere, lined the walkway to the entrance.
A parking attendant waved them over to a waiting valet. Logan left the car idling before he climbed out and accepted the claim ticket. Looking like a movie star, Logan slowly scanned their surroundings before coming around to open the door for her.
“Thank you,” she said, placing her hand in his. A zing of heat spiraled from the contact spot and traveled through her body like an electric current. The intensity took her by surprise, making her want to snatch her hand back. Without looking directly at Logan, she climbed out of the car. She didn’t need him to see how the simple touch of his hand affected her.
A group of photographers were on one side of the walkway, kept back by a temporary barrier and some fierce looking guards. Logan placed his hand on her lower back and urged her forward, making her feel both flustered and safe.
As they slowly made their way toward the entrance, Weslee regretted her earlier behavior. She’d acted like a spoiled brat when all he was trying to do was keep her out of harm’s way. Her mother had raised her to be a lady, and she needed to make an apology.
She tipped her face up to look at him and realized now was not the time to apologize. Focused and stern looking, Logan honed in on the crowd around them. With his attention riveted on their surroundings, it gave her a moment to really study him. His appearance was a little deceiving. The clean-cut look gave him a hot-boy-next-door kind of vibe. Dressed in the expensive tux, he looked more like a sexy British spy than a soldier. It was his piercing blue eyes that gave him an edge, making him look cool, calm, and dangerous.
As if he knew she was checking him out, his eyes flashed to hers. Glimmering like chips of ice, they held very little warmth and were deadly serious. Still, despite his cool assessment, she felt that magnetic pull toward him. Instead of shrinking away, no doubt what he intended her to do, she held his gaze and gave him a soft smile.
Then she saw it. A fiery attraction flickered behind his eyes just before he shuttered it and looked away. That brief second of intense heat wrapped around her like a warm blanket right out of the dryer. What if Inez was right? What if meeting Logan was her destiny?
Chapter 6
Logan should have never looked at Weslee. That dress she had on was driving him crazy, accentuating her soft curves and well-toned muscles. The expanse of smooth, tan skin showing in the back didn’t help. She was distracting and not at all intimidated by him like most women were when he leveled them with his practiced look of iron. No, instead of looking away, she’d given him a smile that sent heat all the way to his belly to simmer there. He was growing warmer by the second and wanted to take his jacket off, but that would reveal the gun strapped to his side.
“Good evening folks,” the greeter at the door said with a large smile. “Welcome to the Hotel del Coronado.”
“Thank you,” Logan said, handing over their tickets.
The man found their names on his iPad and tapped on the screen. “Enjoy your evening,” he said, handing Logan a map and itinerary of the evening’s events.
Logan scanned the paper briefly, making sure nothing had changed since his scouting mission earlier this afternoon. Weslee leaned in close to him to look at the paper, her scent swirling around him.
“As hungry as I am, I’d like to see the auction items first.” She looked at him with a wry expression. “If that’s okay with you?”
She wasn’t seriously asking for permission. They both knew if he told her no she would do it anyway. “Sounds good.”
“Okay then,” she said, her full lips lifting into a smile that stole his breath, “lead the way.”
Logan held her gaze for a few heartbeats. What was it about this girl that made him feel like this? It knocked him off-balance, and he didn’t like it. Heck, this was exactly what had happened to Blaine. The tough as nails SEAL team member had fallen for a girl the instant he’d met her. Logan had vowed that would never happen to him. He wanted to put some distance between the two of them, but staying by her side was part of the job.
“Will the food be any good?” he asked as they navigated their way to the Crown Room. At fifteen thousand dollars per plate it better at least be palatable. Rich people’s food tastes were q
uestionable to him. He’d take a juicy hamburger over expensive fish eggs or cooked snails any day.
“I sure hope so because I am hungry.”
“You already mentioned that,” he said wryly. Most girls he’d dated didn’t like to eat in front of him. They nibbled on carrots and lettuce and refused to eat dessert. “Didn’t you get something to eat at the gym?”
“I had a Ground Zero protein shake, but that was hours ago.”
“Which flavor?” he asked, trying to remember what he’d ordered.
“Birthday Cake.” She placed a hand over her stomach. “It’s our newest flavor, and it was delicious.”
“Hmm, guess I’ll have to give it a try. I’m boring and ordered chocolate and vanilla.”
She stopped and put her hand on his arm. “You ordered products from Ground Zero?”
He glanced down at his arm where her slender fingers touched the outside of his suit coat. Warmth seeped through the layers of clothing as if she directly touched his skin. Swallowing, he looked at her and nodded. “Yeah, I thought I should try it out.”
He’d seen her smile before, but the smile she gave him now lit up her eyes. “Logan, you didn’t need to order anything. I could’ve given you whatever products you wanted to try.”
“Thanks, but I thought the proceeds for this month’s orders are donated to help feed children?” He shrugged. “I know it isn’t much, but hopefully my order will help a little.”
“That is so sweet,” she said in that soft southern drawl of hers.
Sweet? Had anyone ever referred to him as sweet? He didn’t think so. Not even his mother that he could recall. “We better keep moving,” he said, not liking all her attention focused on him. It made his tie feel more like a noose around his neck.
The Crown Room, known for its chandelier shaped like a king’s crown, wasn’t as crowded as Logan thought it would be. That was a good thing. It made his job a lot easier since Weslee drew attention the moment she stepped into the room. Logan learned quickly just how big of a rock he’d been under when he hadn’t known who Weslee was. Men, of all ages, knew her and wanted to talk to her. She even had a few female fans.
So far nobody had done or said anything threatening or inappropriate. Even the men who clearly were enamored with her remained respectful. Most of the older generation knew her parents and offered Weslee condolences, happy she was carrying on the legacy of her mother and father.
The only person Logan recognized was his co-worker. He saw Kate across the room, acknowledging her with a slight nod of his chin. The agent looked pretty good dressed in a silver evening gown with a slit up one side that went all the way to her thigh. Knowing Kate, he figured the slit was for practical purposes only. Her Jiu-Jitsu skills were a force to be reckoned with.
A server walked by and handed him a list of the auction items. Ground Zero had several packages up for auction, including one with a trip for two to New Zealand for a national archery championship tournament held annually there. Most of the other packages were valued at a few thousand dollars, which included Ground Zero gear like shirts, hats, and specialty thermoses, along with a variety of products and a top-of-the-line archery combo pack.
As Weslee chatted with other patrons, Logan continued scanning the room, looking for anyone suspicious. Even though the stalker hadn’t sent any new messages, and it was doubtful he was the type who could afford attending an event like this, Logan remained vigilant.
At least Trenton Williams wasn’t coming. Just before leaving, he’d sent Weslee flowers along with a message that he wouldn’t be able to make it to tonight’s event. It was a good thing he wasn’t coming. Logan didn’t like the guy. He didn’t trust him either. Just the thought of him slow dancing with Weslee sparked his protectiveness to a new level.
Weslee’s laugh drew his attention. Talking with an older couple, she had her back turned to him. Her smooth skin called to him like a siren and sparked a whole new level of possessiveness. He didn’t want Trenton Williams or any other man touching her tonight. Logan was feeling more and more like a jealous boyfriend despite her insistence he didn’t need to.
Glancing away, he found Kate watching him with an amused expression on her face. The agent lifted an eyebrow like she knew exactly what he was thinking. Before he could cut her a scathing glare, she disappeared into the crowd of people standing near the entrance. He heard a few gasps as the onlookers strained to peer around each other to see who was coming inside the room.
Almost on cue, a hush fell over the gathering as patrons parted as the Red Sea had for Moses. Logan felt a shift in the level of energy from the gathered crowd as if a real king had entered the royal room. He placed a protective hand against Weslee’s lower back, his fingertips brushing her bare skin in the process. Having morphed into what he called his SEAL mode, he didn’t react to the brief contact. Weslee was once again the mission.
Her body stilled, and she sucked in a quick breath. Logan didn’t know if it was due to his touch or if she’d caught sight of the new mystery guest. Right now he didn’t care. While he recalled the secure place he’d scouted out today and the quickest route to get her there, he mentally went over the guest list. He didn’t remember reading any names he’d consider famous enough for this kind of revered reaction.
It all made sense the moment Logan got a glimpse of the newcomer. Dallin Morrison was nearly as famous in America as Prince William was in Great Britain. The only son to Senator Rand Morrison, one of the longest standing senators in Washington and former vice-presidential candidate during the previous election, Dallin was ready to follow in his father’s footsteps. He’d recently announced his intention to replace Senator Morrison when he retired at the end of his term in two years.
The thirty-six-year-old widower was well known for his philanthropy work, patriotism, and his love of the outdoors. He was personable wherever he went, never coming across as arrogant or entitled due to his family’s legacy and wealth. He frequently was the first person to arrive at a disaster, working right alongside the locals to help restore their living conditions.
Everyone loved him, especially the women, each one hoping they’d get to be the lucky lady to mend his broken heart and be a mother to his six-year-old daughter.
Logan could almost guarantee he wasn’t Weslee’s stalker. So why did he feel this overwhelming sense that he needed to keep her away from the man? The muscles in his shoulders tensed as the future senator drew closer. Logan respected the guy and had always liked him. At least he had liked him until Dallin Morrison locked eyes on Weslee and headed straight for her.
Chapter 7
Frozen in place, Weslee tried to gather her wits as Dallin Morrison approached her. The man was like American royalty and incredibly handsome, looking like a younger version of George Clooney and Ryan Reynolds mixed together. However, the wealthy rancher turned politician wasn’t the reason Weslee could barely think straight, let alone breathe.
No, the blame for her temporary bout of senselessness rested solely on her bodyguard and his hand planted on her lower back. His fingers pressed more firmly against her as he stepped closer to her side, thankfully only coming into contact with the fabric of her dress. Her skin still burned where his fingers had briefly touched her.
Dallin was heading straight for her. While she didn’t know him personally, she knew he’d recently become a fan of Ground Zero. Over the past six months, he had frequently posted pics to his Instagram account of him fishing, hiking or working out while wearing a Ground Zero shirt and hat.
Blake, one of the marketing guys in charge of handling VIP customers, had made a connection with Dallin at one of the archery tournaments Weslee had missed during her time off to grieve for her parents. More than once, Blake had told her that Mr. Morrison wanted to meet her in person. Apparently, that meeting was going to take place right now.
Logan dropped his hand and stepped partially in front of her. Dallin didn’t seem to notice him, his eyes strictly on Weslee. “Miss Campbell,”
he said, holding out his hand. “I’m Dallin Morrison and it’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person.”
“Thank you, Mr. Morrison,” she said, placing her hand in his. “It’s nice to meet you too.” His hand was warm and slightly callused, confirming he knew how to work. His mocha colored eyes regarded her warmly and with open admiration, yet not one single butterfly danced in her stomach.
“Please,” he said, giving her hand a little squeeze, “call me Dallin.”
“All right, Dallin.” She pulled her hand free. “But only if you call me Weslee.”
“Weslee.” He smiled again, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I understand you were named after your father.”
“Yes. It was his middle name.” Unwanted emotion blurred her vision at the mention of her daddy. She blinked, clearing away the moisture. A captive audience surrounded them and she didn’t want to embarrass herself by crying.
“I’m very sorry for your loss.” Compassion sobered his features. This man was no stranger to grief. He’d lost his wife to a fast-growing brain tumor shortly after the birth of their daughter. “I know your parents were both proponents of humanitarian work.”
“Thank you,” she said, licking her lips. “Helping the less fortunate was their passion.”
“I know. It’s one of the reasons I was introduced to Ground Zero.” He pulled his hands free and patted his flat stomach. “Your products work too. Helped me lose the few pounds I always manage to put on during the winter.”
“He’s convinced me,” a woman whispered loudly. She nudged her husband in the side. “Bid high on the Ground Zero packages, Albert.”
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