Secondary Targets

by Sandra Edwards

  “You’re between jobs? What do you do for a living?”

  He stiffened slightly. “I do this and that, whatever pleases me. I don’t like to stay in one place for long.”

  “You don’t have a permanent home?” He would leave again. She couldn’t tell him about Josh. Her son needed a real father, not a temporary one.

  Logan leaned closer. “You never expected me to amount to much, did you, Doriana?”

  Hurt chased across his eyes, spiking her curiosity, and making her wonder if he was as hard as he seemed. But he’d come back now. Maybe he knew about Josh. Or maybe he was toying with her.

  The intercom buzzed and she started. “Excuse me.” Glad of the interruption, she pressed the talk button. “Yes, Lisa?”

  “I’m sorry to bother you,” Lisa’s stressed voice said. “Jenson keeps calling and you have that meeting. Also the fax machine is acting up again.”

  “Hang in there, Lisa. I’ll call Jenson right away and then see about that damn fax machine. I told Purchasing weeks ago that we needed a new one.” Doriana replaced the phone and turned to Logan. “I run a busy office and I need someone who can keep up with the pace. Your lifestyle isn’t my concern. Do you have the job skills I need? Did my father even check that out?”

  Logan’s full lips quirked in a grin. “Your father is head of a multinational company. Do you doubt he has the expertise to hire your assistant?”

  Her face heated. “I have faith in my father’s expertise, but not yours.”

  Their gazes caught. Something burned in the depths of Logan’s eyes that made Doriana’s heart teeter against her chest like loose scaffolding bumping a building.

  “I have all the skills you need,” he said. “I can handle anything you throw at me.”

  How about a fifteen-year-old with attitude? “We’ll see about that,” she said, angling her chin. She had to end this discussion now, with her professionalism intact. “Are you prepared to commit for six months? That’s how long my assistant will be on leave.” Folding her arms across her chest, she waited for his negative response. Of course he wouldn’t agree to stick around that long. Commitment was never Logan’s style.

  “I’ll be here as long as you need me,” he said in a tight voice.

  Willing to concede defeat for now, she stood and leveled her gaze at Logan. She’d talk to her dad about hiring someone else.

  Logan rose slowly, towering over her by at least a foot. His gaze trailed her face, stopping at her mouth. He didn’t try to hide the desire in his eyes. Her knees jelled. Disturbed by her attraction to him, she dug her nails into her palms. This could not be happening. This would not happen.

  “Doriana?” His voice caressed.

  She shivered, unable to look away from the seduction of his gold-flecked eyes. His knowing smile made her stiffen. He was well aware of his effect on her. The thought cooled her like a powerful fan on a steamy day.

  “When do you want me to start?” he asked.

  “Tomorrow morning. Eight o’clock.” Thank God she sounded normal again. “Lisa will go over her projects and duties then.”

  “Tomorrow then.” He turned and strode from the room, moving with a self-assured sensuality that made her pulse trip.

  A trickle of foreboding caused a chill deep in her soul. How would it feel to see Logan every day, a constant reminder of what they’d once shared...of the youthful dreams that had died the day he walked out of her life? To look into his eyes and see Josh, and feel the guilt? Maybe she should have tried to find Logan all these years. Didn’t he have a right to know about his son?

  Folding her arms, she crossed the room to stare out the window. The smog had lifted and she could see the skyline clearly now. “Oh, Billy,” she said to the famous statue. “What am I to do?”

  As if the statue answered, she glanced down at the table and picked up one of Josh’s pictures. She couldn’t risk her son becoming attached to a father who would walk away again.

  Gathering up the photos, she left only one, of Josh as a toddler. If Logan saw the picture he’d assume she was the mother of a small child. Thank God Josh had inherited her black hair.

  She would have to keep up the pretense for only a short while. She’d convince her dad that Logan had to go. Guilt reared up but she brushed it aside.

  * * * *

  Logan retrieved the briefcase he’d left with Doriana’s assistant and walked out to the hall. The elevator came quickly and he stepped in. His mind barely registered the other riders crowding in with him. What was he thinking, coming on to Doriana like that? He had a job to do. He knew better than to risk an important assignment like this.

  His gut tightened. Doriana was more beautiful and exotic than he remembered. The severe cut of her business suit couldn’t hide her lush body and her smoldering sensuality...a sensuality he’d awakened long ago. He gripped his briefcase, fighting his body’s response to her. But he couldn’t stop the memories flooding him. The feel of her thick black hair brushing his bare chest as they made love. Her laugh and the way she made him feel important. And then the awful night that tore him away and ended his dreams.

  He needed air and space. The other occupants pushed against him. He should have taken the stairs. The elevator came to a final stop and Logan stepped out, moving swiftly to the revolving doors of the Callahan Building and out to the sidewalk. He lifted the collar of his jacket against the November chill as pedestrians jostled by him.

  He’d be glad to get back to the sunshine and tranquility of Arizona. With luck he’d get this assignment over quickly and be home for Christmas. Home. His stomach twisted. A sparsely furnished house without even a goldfish for company. Maybe he’d go away for the holidays. Someplace noisy where he wouldn’t have to think. Where he could forget.

  He hailed a cab to take him to his hotel. He settled into the seat, anxious to escape to the quiet of his room. Hopefully the luggage he’d shipped earlier had arrived. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes. But he couldn’t escape Doriana or his memories. Her scent of roses followed him. She’d always worn rose cologne. That was one thing about her that hadn’t changed.

  Her eyes were the same...large and golden brown, melted chocolate laced with warm caramel. At seventeen they had flashed with happiness and a sense of adventure.

  The loneliness and vulnerability that shadowed her incredible eyes now had gotten to him in ways he didn’t like and couldn’t afford. What had happened to her in the years since he’d last seen her?

  That wasn’t his problem. Doriana was hands off. They were from different worlds. He’d learned that lesson a long time ago. And he was damaged goods. Another lesson he’d been reminded of time and again. The familiar hurt wrenched him.

  The cab jerked to a stop in front of a luxury hotel. The uniformed doorman rushed to open the taxi door.

  Callahan had spared no expense on his hired gun, Logan thought as he entered the plush lobby. The smell of old money mingled with the perfume of the fresh flower arrangements scattered around the cavernous room.

  He walked quickly to the bank of elevators. He needed solitude. He had to study the dossiers Callahan had given him, had to immerse himself in his work. This job would be rougher than he thought. He hadn’t figured on seeing Doriana every day. He’d been fooling himself all these years.

  He still wanted her.

  **Thank you for taking a look at LOGAN'S REDEMPTION. Please visit Cara's website at CaraMarsi.com for more information on this and other titles.**