by Lori Ryan
“Samantha,” he growled as she continued to try to buck against him.
Hell. He gave in and let her move, but one small movement of her hips had him losing all control and slamming into her again and again. And she grasped his shoulders and cried out for him. More, harder, faster. Good God, he could take direction from her all day with a freaking grin on his face.
Then she was coming and he felt her muscles clamp down around his shaft, and nothing had ever felt so incredible before. He clenched his teeth and tried to hold out, to draw the feeling out for as long as he could, because it was so damned unbelievably good. He wanted to drown in her. To let Sam wash over him and never come up for air. But then he felt that telltale snap run from the base of his balls up to his spine and he knew he couldn’t hold out any longer. He came hard, stiffening inside her as he did so, holding every muscle still while he ground out her name in worship.
God he loved this woman. He flipped them so that he sat on the couch with her naked form sprawled out on top of him, and ran his hands over her sweat-dampened skin. She was still sexy, lying limp on top of him.
“I think my bones have melted,” she mumbled into his chest and he laughed, nuzzling his nose down into her hair.
“We should go away somewhere. Just you and me. We deserve a vacation after all we just went through.”
She popped her head up and grinned. “Tropical?”
His laugh felt lighter and easier than any he’d had in a long time. “Yeah. We can do that. Might have to be just a long weekend since it’s such short notice at work, but I can juggle things if you can.”
She nodded and threw her arms around his neck with a squeal. Yeah, life with Sam was gonna be pretty freaking good. Amazing, in fact.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Logan clenched his fists and focused on Sam’s voice in his ear. She cooed nonsense gibberish into his ear the entire plane ride. Neither of them had given enough thought to the fact he likely wasn’t in good enough shape to handle airports and airplanes yet. He flew all the time when he was in the military, but apparently it was different on a commercial flight. The crowd, the small space, no option for escape. He’d been so stuck on his high of Sam saying she’d marry him and knowing she was finally safe, he’d almost forgotten how screwed up in the head he was.
He was never so glad for his new service dog’s presence as he was today. Billy lay half in front of him on the plane and half on his lap, doing his best to distract him. Between Sam and the dog, he would probably get through this.
“I’m going to text Jack when we land and see if he’ll send his jet to pick us up,” Sam said quietly.
Logan shook his head. He should be able to freaking do this, he thought. “I got this, Sam.”
“He would want to do this for you, Logan. I’m sure if he realized this would be so hard, he would have offered to do it without being asked.”
He shook his head and closed his eyes. “Not happening, Sam. I’ll manage. Coming back, I’ll know ahead of time what I’m getting into. I’ll handle it better.”
He wouldn’t tell her this, but he was tired of only being seen as a veteran. He would never give up the service he’d given for his country. He’d given it willingly and freely and he was proud of that. But now he wanted to be seen as more than a veteran, as more than just a man with issues he was trying to work out. As more than just someone with a hell of a lot of baggage. He just wanted to be a man on a vacation with his fiancée. Without needing to resort to using a friend’s private jet to manage it.
“Okay, babe,” she said, running her hand up his bicep. She leaned in close to his ear and murmured, “I’ll take your mind off airplanes and airports as soon as we get to the hotel room.”
And, she did. In the suite’s living room, then the hot tub, and finally the bed.
*****
“You were right,” Peter said, turning to Diya with a grin. “They’ve completely let down their guard. They just flew to Mexico for a weekend getaway and all of the bodyguards have been sent home.”
Diya’s answering smile was small, but she nodded her appreciation. She needed to get this finished so she could move on to the others on her list. Then she needed to join her family in death. She was tired. Too tired. It was time for her to move on. Vengeance would bring her the peace she needed to do that.
“You have the list of her friends and family?”
“Yes.” Peter nodded, hands hovering over his keyboard. He was becoming as bloodthirsty as Yoshi was. The two would do well together after she was gone. She’d leave everything in Yoshi’s hands, with Peter as his second-in-command. They would be just fine when this was finished and she was gone.
She nodded again. “Make it happen.”
He nodded and started typing.
“Oh, and Peter?”
“Yes?”
“Find out when they’re coming home. I’ll meet with Samantha Page myself to deliver the news.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
“Big wedding or small and cozy? Family and close friends?” Sam asked, setting her drink down on the table beside her. They had just polished off another basket of chips and guacamole freshly made-to-order. The view of the ocean and the light breeze as they sat on the beach under an umbrella was exactly what they needed.
“Well,” said Logan as he took her hand in his and rubbed circles with his thumb, “my list consists of Zach and a couple of the guys that are stateside, so I’d vote for small. I’m okay with whatever you want, though.”
Sam sat up. “Wait, I thought you said your dad was up in New Hampshire.”
Leave it to Sam to never forget a detail she’d been told once. He nodded. “He is.”
She tilted her head and gave him the universal keep-talking look.
He shrugged. “He wasn’t much of a dad. He’s an alcoholic.”
He didn’t say more but she felt the weight of more hanging in the air.
“When was the last time you talked to him? Saw him?”
Logan stared out at the ocean.
“Can I ask you something else?”
He turned to face her and was surprised by the answer that slipped from his lips. “Always.”
“Why did you go into the military?”
He blew out a long breath. “A lot of reasons. Zach was doing it. He was like a brother to me, always there for me when we were growing up. He defended me a lot. Then, when we were older and I had shot up and filled out, I thought if I followed him into the military, I could protect him.”
“Is that it?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t have anything else to do. Nowhere else to go after I turned eighteen. And, my dad was in the military.”
She nodded as if that was what she’d been waiting for him to reveal. “And did he serve overseas?”
“Sure,” he said. “Vietnam.”
Her voice was gentle, patient. “Logan, do you know if he went through what you’ve been going through? Did he come home with PTSD?”
The suggestion was like a slap in the face. How had he never seen it before? How could he have been so self-centered. So blind? As a kid, yeah, he got it. Kids don’t realize those things are going on. And as a teenager, he’d disconnected himself from his dad as much as possible. He’d had to. But how could he not have seen it, now?
“Hell,” he whispered, as he flashed to all the times his dad had buried himself in a bottle. All the things his dad had struggled with. All the times his dad had seemed to jump at sounds or get angry out in public. Only, now, the memories didn’t just show his dad being angry. When he really looked back, Logan could see that it was more. That beneath the anger was panic. Fear.
Sam squeezed his hand. “They didn’t have nearly the resources we have now. Shoot, even now, the resources to support returning vets aren’t enough.”
He finished for her. “Back then, they were practically nonexistent.”
She was quiet, waiting for him to process. It had been so long since he’d even thought about
his dad, but the fact that he’d never put this information together himself embarrassed him. He should have done better by his dad.
“We can go see him, if you’d like,” she said. “I’ll go with you.”
Logan looked at the woman he loved, at the open trust, complete lack of judgment, at the uncensored love in her eyes.
“I’m the luckiest man on the planet, baby,” he said and tugged her across to his chair, settling her in his lap.
“Right back atchya, baby,” she said as she looped her arms around his neck and settled her mouth on his. “Right back atchya.”
Chapter Thirty
Four days and three nights passed all too quickly. While in Mexico, they called Samantha’s parents and all of her siblings to tell them about their engagement. They also talked more about wedding plans and set some very tentative ideas in place. For the most part, Logan wanted whatever would make Sam happy and Sam wanted whatever would make her mother and sisters happy.
The flight back went more smoothly than the flight out, primarily because Logan was better prepared for it mentally. He said it was easier when he knew what to expect and had been implementing several of the calming methods Ernie had taught him, as they made their way through security and onto the plane. And, of course, Billy had been there, his head in Logan’s lap whenever he needed it.
Sam and Logan drove to work together on Tuesday morning, slightly earlier than Sam would normally go in, but a bit later than Logan’s typical commute. He was getting better every day. Handling traffic and day-to-day interactions with crowds more easily. It wasn’t perfect, but things were improving.
Sam stepped out of the office building at one thirty, Billy’s leash in hand and her purse over her shoulder. In addition to running out to grab lunch for herself and Logan, she planned to take Billy for a little potty break in the green a couple of blocks from the office. Turning left, she looked up at the sun and smiled. It wasn’t the tropical sunshine and blue, cloudless skies they’d had in Mexico but it was pretty nice out. And life was fantastic. She smiled down at Billy, but was surprised to hear a low growl come from the dog.
Then she noticed the woman walking much too close to her on the other side. No wonder Billy was growling.
The woman grabbed Sam’s arm in a tight hold and smiled a bright, but creepy smile. “Tell the dog not to blow this, Samantha,” the woman said through her toothy smile. “We’re going to walk and talk a bit and believe me, you don’t want the dog drawing attention to you.”
“It’s all right, Billy,” Sam said, but she didn’t sound convincing to herself. Billy seemed uneasy so she tried again, lightening her tone. “Don’t worry, Billy, this is just a friend. We’re just going to talk.”
She hoped that was true, but she had a feeling the woman who had a death grip on her arm was also holding a weapon on her. Sure enough, within seconds, the woman pressed something hard into Sam’s side. Sam wished she had been wearing the bulletproof coat Jack had gotten her. If it stopped bullets, surely it would stop a knife? But it was a raincoat and since she wasn’t forced to wear it out of necessity each day, she’d decided to leave it at home.
“Good girl,” said the woman and Sam tried to place the accent. It wasn’t one accent. There were several. British, but something else underneath. Maybe something Slavonic? Serbo-Croatian? Russian? Czech? “Now, cross to that bench over there and we’ll sit and chat.”
Sam walked stiffly over to the bench, sitting when the woman gestured to do so. How was it possible that she was now sitting here with a knife to her ribcage when Alonzo was dead? Maybe whoever he’d paid to come after her was still trying to complete the job for the sake of their own reputation? But then, why was she sitting here having a chat in the park at knifepoint instead of lying dead on the sidewalk outside of Sutton Capital where the woman had first approached her?
“What do you want?” Sam hoped if she could get the woman talking she could figure things out.
“What I want isn’t going to happen,” the woman said and there was a profound sadness to her voice. It was thick with…grief. The realization startled Sam.
And then it hit Sam. This was Nokolai Bogolomov’s daughter.
“Klavdiya Bogolomov,” Sam said quietly, remembering the name of the man Logan’s team had killed.
This was the daughter who’d survived. The only one to survive. No, there was a cousin, also. Yoshi Bogolomov.
“Yes.” The woman next to her smiled as if they were old friends. It was chilling given the threat she presented. “Diya.”
“And,” Sam said, not at all feeling the calm she was attempting to display, “to what do I owe this visit?” Visit, attack, whatever.
“Oh, I’ve just got some news to deliver to you. You see, Samantha, it seems that several of your friends have found themselves in a bit of trouble.”
Sam felt her blood churn to a frozen halt in her veins. The acid in her stomach leapt up her throat and she tried to take a deep breath.
“Excuse me?” Sam’s friends were everything to her. Her friends and family.
A sly shrug from Diya answered her and Sam had the urge to smack the woman. She controlled it, but only just. She needed to find out what the woman wanted.
Diya stuck her hand in a large tote on her shoulder and Sam stiffened. But the woman drew out only papers.
“I have to admit. Your plan is ingenious. It has a certain sick, twisted perversion to it,” Diya said.
Sam felt a wave of dismay as she realized what Diya was doing.
“You were listening. The listening devices were yours. It was you, not Alonzo.”
Diya laughed. “You wrote the plan for me. It was really quite brilliant.” She handed Sam a stack of papers. “It’s all there. You’ll see.”
Sam flipped through the stack. Kelly and Jack and the kids. Diya had planted evidence pointing to child abuse. Jennie and Chad. Drug use. Sam’s sisters and brothers all had pages, too. Everything had been set up to frame them for some criminal act or to drain money from their savings accounts. All the money from her parents’ retirement savings.
Logan. Oh, Logan. Diya had set him up to look like he was leaking classified information. Information that might put his former teammates at risk. Information he would die to protect, she was sure of it.
Sam felt tears sting her eyes and she pressed her lips together for a minute, fending them off. Diya’s laughter was cruel, unrelenting.
“What do you want?” Sam asked, rubbing the tears with the back of her hand, but she knew what Diya would say.
It had been Sam’s own plan, although she’d come up with it as a joke. It wasn’t meant to be someone’s sick game to get back at Logan and his team for some imagined crime. Logan and his team were not responsible for what had happened to Bogolomov and his family. That was on Bogolomov and no one else.
“You’ll leave Logan immediately. You may have two days to say your goodbyes to your family. This was more than I was given, but I’ll give that to you. But no more than that. At the end of forty-eight hours, either you’re dead or all of this goes public. All of it gets put in motion. Accounts drained, evidence released. Your friends and family might eventually get out of some of the trouble this puts them in, but not before the damage is done.”
No, Sam knew. Not before irreparable damage would be done.
Sam wanted to argue with the woman. She wanted to rail against her and tell her this was sick. She wanted to shake the woman and tell her Logan and his team were not to blame. Only Nikolai Bogolomov was to blame for his family’s deaths. He was the one who put his children in danger. He was the one who had been a criminal, a terrorist. A murdering coward.
Sam’s despair was silent but no less cutting than if she had been able to cry out and yell. She sat cold and alone with tears streaming more freely now. Kelly and Jack, Chad and Jennie, they would lose their children, at least temporarily. Logan would be brought up on charges and possibly convicted. Even if he was only arrested pending a trial, Sam knew
he couldn’t handle prison right now. The close confinement. The lack of freedom. The need to defend himself constantly against attacks. He would lose it. He needed to be working on getting his life back, on rebuilding ties with his dad, and on getting well again. He needed to keep up with sessions with Ernie. She wouldn’t allow any of that to be stalled again. He’d sacrificed enough. No more.
Sam took a deep breath. She knew what she had to do. She nodded robotically to the woman, then stood, speaking softly to Billy as she walked him back to the building. She didn’t get lunch or even stop to speak to Logan. She went straight to the receptionist’s desk.
“Amanda, can you take Billy for me?” Everyone in the office had been introduced to the service dog in the last week. “I’m not feeling well. I’m going to go home and lie down. Can you watch him until Logan comes to get him?”
“Sure, Sam,” Amanda said, worry creasing her brow. “Do you want me to call Logan and have him walk you to your car or take you home? You don’t look so good.”
Sam wanted to laugh. No, she imagined she didn’t look very good. All she’d wanted in life, all she’d ever hoped for, had just been ripped from her. She imagined she looked like she felt. Nauseated. Run over. Desperate.
She wanted to run to Logan and bury herself in his arms. She wanted to run to her family and see them, let her mother tell her everything would be all right. But, she couldn’t do any of that right now.
“No, thanks. He’s actually in a meeting for another hour at least. Maybe more. Can you let Billy lie out here with you? I’ll text Logan and let him know to come out for him when he’s finished.”
“Yeah, no problem, Sam.”
“Thanks,” Sam said and turned and walked out. With any luck, that would buy her a little time.
She felt numb on the drive to her house. She didn’t stay long. Just long enough to grab her laptop and write a note saying goodbye to Logan. She told him she needed space to think things over. That she loved him, but things had moved quickly. Too quickly. Writing the words brought on a fresh wave of tears, but she brushed them away and walked out, grabbing the raincoat Jack had bought her on the way out.