Logan's Woman

by Avery Duncan

  Logan’s Woman

  By Avery Duncan

  Copyright 2012 Avery Duncan

  Smashwords Edition

  Chapter 1

  Claire walked through the hotel, staring around her. It wasn’t what she was used to, but it would do.

  Her life had changed so much in the past month that she was amazed her head was still screwed on tight. Everything she’d known or done or even breathed had changed, and she had a feeling that even though she’d been promised it would all come back, it wouldn’t. Most likely couldn’t.

  Her father had been right to send her away, she thought numbly, going to the receptionist at the counter and forcing a smile.

  “Hi,” an old woman with greying hair and crooked teeth said with required happiness. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun and her hands were sharp and thin on the keyboard as she stood there with her back perfectly straight.

  Claire sighed with resolution and started to go through her backpack. “I need to book a room,” she started, finding her gold Louis Vuitton wallet that she’d gotten as a gift from her father last week.

  “For how long?” the receptionist asked, lowering her head and tapping away at the keyboard.

  Claire grimaced at the question. She had no idea how long she was going to be staying here.

  “Ah…About a month or so.”

  The receptionist looked up, eyes sharp. “Now, if you are trying to use us as a homing place, that is against our policies. There are apartments downtown that you can rent –“

  Claire slapped ten hundreds onto the counter, shutting the receptionist up. “Would you really turn away that much money? Let me talk to your manager, please,” she said, irate. What did she look like, someone who had crawled out of a hovel?

  She knew what the receptionist had been thinking in her mind and was disgusted.

  “Oh, he’s uh – out. Did you want a suite?” the woman asked, voice suddenly skittish. Her fingers kept tapping and her eyes lowering, looking anywhere but at Claire. She felt like a bitch, but she didn’t have time for questions or answers to them and being evasive was what she had been taught best.

  That, and knowing which fork to use for salad, she thought with bemusement.

  “Yes, I would. And I don’t want any maids in my room,” she tacked on, remembering what her aunt had told her. Don’t let anyone too close to you or things that belong to you.

  “Yes, yes, of course.” Claire stood in silence as the woman continued to type and then she pulled a card out from under the counter, swiping it through a black box and then handing that with several papers to Claire.

  She quickly gave the receptionist her information.

  “Your room number is S437 and I’ll make sure to let the maids know.” Her stick-like fingers curled around the bills on the counter before she disappeared into the room that was behind her.

  Claire took hold of the papers and shoved all of it, except the card to her room, and looked for an elevator.

  There were only two windows around the whole room, on opposite sides of each other. The door she had walked in from had paint chipping off of it and the ceiling wasn’t in the best condition either. She barely kept her shudder under control as she grabbed the handle to her suitcase and, after finding the elevator, wheeled the black leather bag towards it.

  She pressed the button, waiting for it to ping.

  It didn’t.

  Claire frowned, looking around. Was it out of order? Even the button hadn’t lit up.

  “Wow,” she said, closing her eyes. “Seriously?”

  Guess she was walking up the stairs, all the way to the fifth floor. Just great…

  “Why, hello there.”

  She turned at the voice, pulling back from the person that was standing so close to her sharply. The balding guy was maybe a foot away from her and definitely invading her personal space.

  “Uhm, hi,” she said awkwardly, grabbing the handle of her suit case tightly in one hand and clutching her backpack strap to her shoulder with the other. She backed away from him and tried to get past to the stairs.

  He stepped in front of her quickly, reeking. “I can carry that for you, if you’d like.”

  She started to shake her head, blonde locks sliding over her shoulders. “I think I can –“

  “Really,” he insisted, reaching for the suitcase with a fat hand. Intense body odor wafted through the air and practically slapped her in the face. She held her breath and shook her head again, pulling on the handle.

  “Sir,” she started, backing away from him again.

  “You can call me Gerry. I am the owner of this hotel and I only aim to please,” he said, jeering at her, looking suggestively at her jeggings and button-up blouse that didn’t do anything to hide her cleavage.

  He reached for her, this time making to grab her wrist and not the bag.

  “I got it, let go.” Her voice was nothing but a squeak and before he could do anything about it, she was dragging her bag up the case and trying to get away from him, disturbed beyond belief.

  I have to stay here for a month? she thought, trekking up the stairs so quickly that in the next minute, she was on the third floor. She wasn’t going to be leaving the room much if she had to deal with that every time to tried to leave.

  Her back itched, and by the time she was up to the fifth floor, she was out of breath. Tennis practice hadn’t done much for her, she thought to herself bitterly, shoving the stair doors open.

  The low lighting in the hallway flickered when the door slammed close behind her, making her flinch. Please, she begged, thinking of her suite, don’t be infested with rats.

  Much to her own luck and intense pleasure, it wasn’t. She found her room quickly and settled in without a problem. The room wasn’t as great as it could have been, but it was in better condition than most of the hotel itself was. The bed had an unoriginal spread over it, the blue, red, and green colors casting a dank feel over the room.

  One of the ceiling lights was out but struggling to live, flickering every second or so. The only lap in the room had a pink light bulb, and she didn’t even want to know why.

  Cautiously, she set her things on the floor and sat on the barstool that matched the not-so-clean looking kitchen. She pushed her hands into her hair and leaned into the counter, eyes closing as reality started to seep over her.

  Her aunt had said to find a dirty, run-down hotel that no one ever went to. Claire had been horrified, but had listened and found this place, even though there was a much nicer hotel just across the street from this one.

  Claire had been instructed to go to somewhere country. Her aunt hadn’t told her where to go, and no one but Claire knew where she was. Not even her father.

  She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, letting a sigh out on a shuddery breath.

  No one was going to be able to find her. She had twenty-five thousand in cash for the next month, none of her credit cards were active, and she had a cheap payphone that her aunt had given her and told her to get rid of the second she called someone. It was for emergencies, and strictly that.

  She couldn’t call for pizza, call for a taxi, check on her family, or do anything that might leave a trace of her. That’s why she was using cash.

  Claire had never done anything like this before. How her aunt knew what to do and how to do it, amazed her and kind of scared her. She took another shaky breath and then opened her eyes, feeling numb on the inside.

  The rest of her family was in similar conditions, probably ones much worse than what she was in right now. But she had no way of knowing or anyway of finding them if anything happened.

  That is probably what scared her the most. What if they found her, or she got hurt? Who was she going to call? Her college classes had been long
-since abandoned. None of her friends knew where she was or what was even going on.

  Her heart clenched.

  Her father…

  He was in more danger than even she was. At least she was assumed dead. Her father, on the other hand, was out in the open and continuing his job as if nothing happened. The tabloids thought she’d been in a car crash, the injuries fatal enough to end her life.

  Still, as another precaution, her aunt and father had sent her away. For how long, she had no clue. Maybe until Jefferson was out of office, or when her father finally ended his term.

  He couldn’t resign. It didn’t work like that. At least, not when so many people had so much information on you that it could condemn you so badly, even your grandchildren would be paying for it. Not only that, though, but his enemies would make an example of her if they ever found her.

  Claire prayed to god they didn’t.

  She picked herself up, forcing the thoughts out of her mind.

  Maybe she should just take a nap…there wasn’t much else to do. It was almost six in the morning; none of the stores would be open. In such a small town in the middle of Montana, next to ranches, nothing could be awake this early.

  Unused to what was around her and frightened after managing to keep her cool for the past hour on her way here, she laid herself down and, before she knew what was happening, passed out.

  ---------------------------------------------------------

  She slept until it was so bright out, it was impossible to sleep. Groaning, she forced herself to stand and snapped the thin curtains closed, and still the cheap material let the light shine through. She rubbed a hand over her face.

  Claire decided on taking a hot shower and getting freshened up. She had to go to town to get food and hair things, and she might as well get it over with before the day was over. She looked at the watch and noticed it was already four in the afternoon.

  The bathroom was low in lighting and unappealing.

  She quickly got undressed and climbed into the Jacuzzi, turning on the water to an almost scalding hot and sighing with mute pleasure when it touched her skin. In minutes, the large tub was filled enough to please her. Claire shut off the water and then sunk under.

  Her eyes closed as her muscles relaxed more than they probably ever had before.

  Now that she had found a place to stay and had finally rested, she felt less nervous and more resigned. A couple of weeks or months here wouldn’t be that bad, she thought, emerging from the water for a breath of air.

  A distant relative of her father had agreed to put money into a separate account that he had made, where she would have access to it in case of an emergency. If she had to stay away longer, then she could and most certainly would. Putting herself at risk would put her father in danger, and she refused to be a problem for anyone that was trying to save her life.

  She rung the water out of her pale blonde hair and leaned into the neck rest at the end of the tub. Claire closed her eyes, not intending to dose off, but that’s exactly what she did.

  By the time she opened her eyes, her hands were prunes and the water was getting a chilly touch to it. Claire quickly climbed out and, shivering her butt off, wrapped a towel around herself.

  She quickly towel-dried her hair with another towel and then sprinted her way to the main room, where her suitcase was. In minutes she was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt. Her hair was still damp, but it would dry soon enough. While in New York it was chilly, here in Texas it was still hot from summer and she didn’t have to worry about getting a cold.

  Claire was just about to leave when trepidation kicked in. Grabbing her suitcase, searched around the hotel room for the most secretive place. The hotel owner had access to every room, and something about his eyes made her weary.

  Her suite had a balcony and the skies were clear. Since there wasn’t any place that she could think to hide her suitcase that he wouldn’t know, she decided on the most random and probably most risky place there was.

  She shoved open the balcony door and looked around. There were curtains on both side, and on the left side of the door, there was enough space by the stone wall that you wouldn’t be able to see the suitcase if she shoved it close enough to the railing.

  That’s exactly what she did. She didn’t think there was going to be any bad weather, and if there was, her suitcase was weather-proof, X-Storm Under Armor, custom made at the request of the cousin that had set up the account for her.

  At the thought of all the help her cousin had given her and was still prepared to, she thought of Preston with a smile on her face. He was distant, to their blood relations. But he was always around, always teasing her.

  She’d been an only child and he had been the same as a big brother whenever he visited.

  Hopefully soon, she would be able to see him, her father would be safe in office, and everything would be back to normal without the threat of his enemies.

  With that thought in mind, she made sure there were some things set in front of her suitcase, closed the balcony door, grabbed her backpack, and walked out of the door. Hopefully, the hotel owner wouldn’t be around on her way out. She really didn’t feel like dealing with him, and she had a lot of shopping to do.

  ---------------------------------------------------------

  “Who is that?”

  “What is she doing here?”

  “Why is she so frumpy looking?”

  “What do you think she washes her hair with?”

  “Is she married?”

  Logan walked out of the hardware shop to a bunch of women whispering to each other not-so-quietly. He shook his head when he got a look at their faces.

  The group of women were notorious for starting rumors, speculating about everything and everyone, and making it their business to know who and what was going on in their small town in Texas.

  Logan didn’t mind, as long as they kept their rumors away from him, but felt sorry for their newest victim.

  “I bet she has a child -- a runaway from an abusive boyfriend!” Millicent, the youngest, said. She didn’t bother to keep her voice down. Logan stuck around the hardware door, listening bleakly for some reason he didn’t know.

  “A boyfriend? Why not a husband?” May asked, intrigued. She was the oldest, and probably the slowest, of them all.

  “Well, having a child out of wedlock is scandalous indeed. Only a women with a dark past like that would come to a town like this,” supplied Molly, nodding smartly.

  “Oh, smart thinking! And I bet her mother...”

  Logan shook his head, walking past them.

  They noticed him in an instant. “Logan! Oh, Logan, come here!”

  He almost didn’t listen to Mildred’s excited call, knowing nothing good came from talking to her or anyone in that group.

  “Don’t be such a mean-hearted man,” she chastised, waving him over.

  “What do you want?” he asked indifferently, barely turning his head to look at her as he slowed his gate down the sidewalk. He really wanted nothing more than to climb into his truck and get back to his ranch. He had fences to mend before the cold weather started to hit them, and he couldn’t risk one of his cows getting out, or getting cut up while trying to escape.

  “Come look at her,” two of them whispered, while the other four nodded their heads fervently before looking over their shoulders.

  Logan was about to ignore them and get on his way to his ranch when a glare caught his eye. He put his hand up, but paused mid-way when a store bell chimed and out walked...someone.

  Or something.

  Whatever was walking out of the door wasn’t human -- it couldn’t be.

  Nothing that beautiful and pure could be human, it just wasn’t plausible.

  Her hair was golden wheat in the sunlight, catching every single ray and drawing vibrant colors, causing her hair to almost shimmer around a face too perfectly and elegantly shaped, it was an amazement that she wasn’t somewhere in heav
en. Her lips were lush, bow-shaped and looking as kissable as anything else ever had. Bright blue eyes, surrounded by pale lashes and thinly arched eye brows, were barely visible under her bangs, but nothing could detract from how strong and utterly beautiful they were. She had on sweats and a sweatshirt, but that did nothing to stop his imagination from running rampant. Her hips were curvy, and even with the sweatshirt on, you could tell she had amazing breasts, enough to fill his hands and then some. Her shoulders were straight, standing as tall and proudly as she could, yet she was tiny -- at least compared to him.

  His hand dropped to his side, yet he couldn’t make his eyes leave her. The door to the store she had just walked out of closed, and the six bickering woman were oddly quiet as they looked between the girl and him with bird-like eyes.

  Unconsciously, not knowing what he was doing, Logan took a step forward.

  The breath had been sucked out of his lungs. He swore that all of the blood he contained in his body dropped to his groin, and everything except the woman was washed in darkness. He was completely and totally unaware and unguarded. If someone had come up to him and punched him, he probably wouldn’t have noticed. In fact, someone could have stabbed him and he would have stayed completely still, eyes locked on the blonde.

  Her eyes met with his.

  Yeah, talk about someone punching him in the stomach.

  Just looking at the woman knocked his breath out.

  And, for some reason, it made him furious.

  Her big blue eyes were locked on him, just as his were. Innocence and fear were plainly visible, and a rough growl tore through his chest before he forced himself to turn away from the woman, and stalk to his car, which was fortunately on the opposite side of where she was.

  The gossiping women were in a large uproar now, demanding he come back to speak to them and even telling each other over their friend’s voices assumptions about the incident.

  Logan felt a burn in his chest. Great, because he had noticed a new girl in town, he was going to be the talk of it for weeks, probably months. He could feel her eyes burning into his back as he twisted the key into the ignition, and despite himself, turned in time to see her eyes lowering to the ground and her shoulders curling.