Dani sat beside the bed and sipped a cup of coffee. She’d insisted Logan take her bed as there was a comfortable chair in her room where she could keep an eye on him. A vanilla-scented candle burned on the night table, allowing her to see his face. Considering the kind of work he did, a mild concussion was probably nothing to him, but it scared the hell out of her.
She mentally reviewed the things she needed to watch for. Thankfully, there had been no sign of nausea or slurred speech. She chuckled. His speech had been perfectly fine when he’d declared he had no intention of spending the night in the hospital. He’d claimed his head hardly hurt, but knowing Logan, if he would admit that much, then he did have a headache.
“Are you going to sit there and stare at me all night?”
Startled, she spilled hot coffee on her hand. “Ouch!” She set the cup on the table and wiped her hand on the afghan spread over her lap. “You’re awake.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she placed her hand on his forehead. No fever, thank God. Was fever a symptom? Crap, she should have gone into nursing. “How do you feel?”
He reached up and turned on the bedside lamp, squinted when the light hit his eyes, and turned it back off. “I’m fine.” The doubt must have shown on her face because he added, “Really.”
“He tried to kill you.” She shuddered at the thought of a world without him in it. She had lost Evan; she could not lose Logan, too.
Pushing himself up against the pillows, he took her hand. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”
His hand, so big and strong, comforted her. He knew things—was trained to vanquish enemies. He would not leave her.
“Logan,” she whispered.
“Mmm?”
“Would you hold me?”
He pulled her to his bare chest. The light dusting of dark hair tickled her nose as she burrowed her face against his skin. He had showered when they arrived home, and he smelled like the bay-rum-scented soap she kept in the guest bath. God, how she missed the feel of strong arms wrapped around her and couldn’t resist snuggling up against his side.
The burning candle cast flickering shadows on the ceiling and over his face. Set on low, the soft swish of the ceiling fan and the beat of his heart beneath her ear were the only sounds in the room. If he weren’t injured, she would have tried to seduce him. Since that wasn’t going to happen and she was too keyed up to sleep, she wanted to talk. Would he tell her about his life if she asked?
“Is your mother still alive?” The silence stretched and she thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then the hand at her back started to move, slowly caressing her as he began to talk.
“No, she died three years ago, and I may sound like a coldhearted bastard for saying this, but it was a relief.”
“Why?”
His hand stilled and his chest rose as he sighed. He obviously didn’t like talking about his mother, but Dani hoped he would continue. She also wanted him to keep rubbing her back. His hand started moving again. “That feels good,” she said.
“Are you sure you want to hear this? It’s not a pretty story.”
She lifted her head and looked at him. “Please.”
He held her gaze for a moment and then pressed her head back down on his chest. “My mother was the town drunk. Not satisfied with only one title, she also claimed the distinction of being the town whore. It’s a toss-up as to which she did best.
“She brought home men who smelled so bad I had to scrub the stench from the walls after they left. She brought home men so drunk they passed out and fell on their face before they could get between her legs. Those were my favorites because I could just drag them outside and dump them on the street. The worst were the ones I had to protect Maria from.”
The marvelous Maria? “Who’s Maria?”
“My sister.”
“Oh.” The degree of happiness she felt at this news surprised her. Thinking that she had been jealous of his sister, she bit down on her bottom lip to keep from smiling. God, the adjectives she had assigned the poor girl. Dani sat up and tucked her legs under her. “Tell me about your sister.”
“I don’t usually talk about her. Not because I’m ashamed of her, but because she’s special. There was no one on my SEAL team I wanted fantasizing about her. If they knew about her, they would want to see a photo. Once they did, they would’ve drooled on it, and I would’ve had to kill them.” He grinned, but she was sure he was dead serious.
“Would you show me her picture sometime?”
“Go in my room and get my wallet off the dresser.”
Dani scrambled off the bed, grabbed his wallet, and returned, handing it to him. He opened it, removed a photo, and then turned on the lamp. The girl staring back at Dani was drop-dead gorgeous. Long dark hair fell over her shoulders and down her back. Her eyes were almond shaped, her cheekbones high, and her full lips parted in a beautiful smile. But it was her black eyes sparkling with humor and mischief that told Dani she would like this girl.
“I see why you didn’t want to show this picture to the guys. They would’ve driven you crazy wanting to meet her.”
“Buchanan and Turner have met her. It was impossible to keep her a secret once they came to work for me, but I made sure they knew the danger of thinking of her as more than my sister.”
“How old is she?”
He took the picture and looked at it, his eyes turning soft and loving. “Just turned nineteen. She’s a sophomore at Florida State.”
“So, it’s just you and Maria?” She wanted to hear more about the two of them. From what he’d said, they hadn’t had an easy life.
“Yeah. I have no idea who my father is or Maria’s. They were probably Navy men since Lovey Dovey mostly worked the bars surrounding the naval air station. When I was fifteen, there came a day when there was no milk in the house for Maria. A baby needs milk, so I tried to steal some at the convenience store near my house. I got caught by the owner. It was the luckiest day of my life. Mrs. Jankowski grabbed my hand and marched me home to discuss my sticky fingers with my parents. She took about thirty seconds to assess the situation before appointing herself my and Maria’s guardian angel.”
“What happened then?”
He chuckled. “She gave me a choice of going to jail or coming to work for her. Not knowing a fifteen-year-old would likely be turned over to social services and not sent to jail, I chose her. She kept Maria supplied with milk, put me to work in her store, and taught me the meaning of honor.”
Fascinated, she asked, “So, you adopted her as the mother you wished you had?”
A fond smile curved his lips. “Something like that. She was a taskmaster, giving no quarter. As soon as school was over, I had to go home, get Maria, and bring her to the store. Mrs. Jankowski set up a little play area in her office for Maria, and as soon as we arrived, I sat at her desk to do my homework. Once it was done, she looked it over, and if it met with her approval, I was put to work. I swept floors, carried out trash, stocked shelves.
“At first I hated her. No one had ever made me do my homework before, but about two months into my captivity, miraculous things began to happen. Science started to get interesting, turned out I had a knack for math and languages, and geography was fascinating. My grades went from failing to average to above average to the day when I got my report card and stared in amazement at all the A’s.”
“Mrs. Jankowski sounds like an incredible woman. Is she still alive? I’d like to meet her someday.”
He smiled and Dani studied the man who had made something of himself in spite of all the strikes against him. Tears burned her eyes. What a sad, lost little boy he must have been before his savior rescued him and his sister. And then to discover his talents, grasping onto learning everything he could from his studies as a means to escape his environment. He had transformed himself from a throwaway kid to her Renaissance man. Oh God, he w
asn’t hers, she didn’t want him to be, but she could easily fall for him.
That scared her.
He wasn’t a sweet, lovable bear-of-a-man like Evan. He was hard and unyielding—arrogant. There was nothing sweet about him. But, merciful heavens, she wanted him. He made her pulse race and her body want. It was lust, that was all. Lust could be assuaged.
His hand came up to cradle her face. “Someday, perhaps,” he said as his thumb slid gently across her bottom lip.
Someday what? Lord, the man had the ability to steal her wits. Hypnotized by the desire she saw in his gaze, she lowered her mouth to his. His eyes darkened as his arm wrapped around her back, pulling her hard against him.
“Dani,” he whispered, making her name sound like something precious.
“Please.” Oh God, please don’t stop.
He reached up to turn off the lamp and stilled. She felt the change in him under the palm she rested on his bare chest. His muscles tensed, the arm at her back fell to the bed, and he took a deep breath.
What had she done wrong?
CHAPTER EIGHT
Logan blamed his lapse on his head wound.
How Dani had wormed his past out of him, he didn’t know. He talked of it to no one. Only Maria and Mrs. Jankowski were privy to most of the story because they were a part of it. Maybe the pain pills he’d taken at the hospital had given him a loose tongue.
The way those green eyes had turned all watery and soft on his behalf had been his undoing—that and the apple pie scent of her hair. He shouldn’t have left the lamp on. If he hadn’t turned his head to find the switch, he wouldn’t now be looking at Evan’s picture. He was about to dishonor himself with his best friend’s wife.
Mrs. Jankowski had drilled into him a keen sense of ethical conduct. “Honor,” she’d often said, “is how a noble man lives his life. He does not steal, he does not bully those weaker than him, and he does not covet another man’s wife.”
It was years before Logan accidently learned Mrs. Jankowski’s husband had left her for their neighbor, and likely the reason she considered the last item on her list important. And because a young boy liked the idea of being a noble man—something he’d believed beyond his reach before Mrs. Jankowski barreled her way into his life—he had adopted her principles as his own.
Logan picked up the photo of his teammate and stared into a face he had loved like a brother. He set it back on the table, gently pushed Dani away, and stood.
“Why?”
He had reached the doorway when she asked her question. He stopped, turned, and met her gaze. She knelt in the middle of the bed, her eyes full of hurt. Mrs. Jankowski would not be proud of him at this moment.
“It’s a matter of honor,” he said, and returned to his room.
The next morning—always up by six—Logan was in the kitchen making breakfast when Dani stumbled in, made a cup of coffee, and then disappeared back into her room. “Good morning to you, too,” he muttered. Was she angry about last night?
She could have at least asked how his head was. Christ, he was really mucking things up. Since arriving, he’d insulted her, wrecked her car, and was no closer to catching the creep stalking her. He shoveled eggs into his mouth and again considered bringing Buchanan up to guard her. No. No way was he letting Romeo anywhere near her.
Irritated about everything, he decided he shouldn’t be the only one not having a good day. He called Jake Buchanan to give him hell.
“What time is it?” Buchanan asked, sounding half-asleep.
“I don’t give a damn about the time. I want to know if there are prints on the fucking bear.”
“What bug crawled up your butt? I left you a message last night telling you what we got.”
Damn, he hadn’t bothered checking his messages. “Humor me here and tell me again.”
Logan heard a big sigh from Buchanan and then a female voice in the background. Typical Romeo.
“Can’t this wait until I pour about five cups of coffee down my throat? Better yet, why don’t you hang up and listen to my voice mail? I’ve got a bit of sweetness here, wanting my attention.”
Meanness crept into Logan’s voice. “If you still want to be employed tomorrow, tell me about the damned fingerprints.”
“Yes, sir.” Logan could almost hear Buchanan’s salute. “We lifted a thumbprint. Strange thing is, there were no matches, but the whorls and pattern lines are similar to Prescott’s. The print’s not Evan’s, but almost could be. What does it mean, boss?”
Damn. He’d started having a suspicion, but had hoped it wasn’t true. “It means you send your guest home, and then spend today delving into Evan’s life. His parents, birth certificate, everything, no matter how insignificant you think it is. Put Turner on a plane and send him to Dallas. Tell him to track down anyone who might remember the Prescotts—old neighbors, church, whatever. You got that, Romeo?”
“Not having fun in Asheville, boss?”
“Go to hell,” Logan said, and clicked off.
The rest of his eggs had congealed into an unappetizing mess by the time he hung up. He crammed two pieces of bacon and the last of his toast into his mouth, and then walked outside. Taking a deep breath of the crisp, early-morning mountain air, he tried to find his balance. The woman hiding in her room was throwing his world out of alignment. He just didn’t know what to do about it.
Logan stood on the deck and watched the sun come up over the mountain. When it was light enough to see the oak tree, he focused on it, but didn’t sense anyone there. Who the hell are you? The back door creaked open and he turned.
His gaze hungrily slid over Dani, taking in the white T-shirt that showed a slit of stomach above the waist of a pair of cutoff jeans, lingering a moment on the silver belly ring, and then on down to the latest toenail color, a purple so dark it was almost black. Did she change the color of polish to suit her moods? Should he take the near black as a warning?
“When you’re done ogling me, maybe you’ll tell me why you’re looking into Evan’s background.”
Yep, black toenails didn’t bode well. Not wanting to answer her question yet and since ogling her obviously annoyed her, he made a slow perusal in reverse direction, from her toes up. When he reached her eyes, he cocked a brow. “Sorry, did you say something?”
“You’re an ass,” she said, disappearing back inside to the sound of the slamming door.
He couldn’t deny the reality of their situation, and the sooner she accepted it, the sooner she would stop looking at him with hurt in those Irish green eyes. Not only was she Evan’s wife, but Logan Kincaid wasn’t good enough for her. How could a woman born into a house with seven bathrooms ever love a man who grew up in little more than a glorified shed with one barely working bathroom, a man whose mother spread her legs for any man with a few bucks in his pocket?
Never going to happen.
Dani aimed a kick at the foot of her bed. “Crap!” She hopped in a circle and then sat, holding her toe. Madder at herself than Logan for letting him get under her skin, she threw herself back on the bed. When his gaze had roamed over her body, she’d seen the hunger in his eyes, had wanted to tear off her clothes and jump on him right then. He wanted her, but didn’t like it.
Why couldn’t they have hot, mind-boggling sex? She wouldn’t expect more from him. But no, he had his damn honor. “Stupid man.”
“I assume you mean me.”
She lifted onto her elbows and glared at him. He stood in the middle of the doorway, his hands in his pockets. God help her, one look at him and she was ready to drool. “Do you make a habit of eavesdropping on other people’s conversations?”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure talking to yourself constitutes a conversation, but I could ask the same.”
She sat up. “You have me there. I heard the end of your phone call. Was that Jake on the phone, and why are y
ou investigating Evan?”
Startling her, he walked in, slid his arms under her legs, and picked her up, carrying her toward the living room. Holy Batman, he was strong. “What are you doing?”
“I can’t talk to you when you’re on your bed. My mind doesn’t work right.”
She was face-to-face with him, and if she dared, she could close the inches between them and kiss him, but she still smarted from his rejection. He had removed the bandage from his forehead, and she gently put her finger next to the cut. “Do you have any idea how lucky you are? God, when I think what could have happened.”
He stilled and focused on her. “If I were truly lucky—” He gave a little shake of his head before continuing down the hall.
“If what?”
Stopping in the doorway to the living room, his gaze fell to her mouth. “I would have the right to do this.” His face lowered until his lips covered hers.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and closed her eyes. He feathered kisses over her mouth, soft brushes that tingled wherever he touched, her top lip, the bottom, the corners. When she sighed in pleasure, his arm tightened around her back and he deepened the kiss.
When he nipped on her lower lip, she opened her mouth for him. Their tongues tentatively touched, and then tangled. He tasted of coffee and mint toothpaste.
He pulled her tight against his chest and made a low growling noise deep in his throat. The sound excited her until it mixed with the cry of a baby. Tearing his mouth away, he practically threw her on the couch.
“Christ, Dani, you’re killing me here.” He backed up until he fell onto the chair behind him.
Why did he look so miserable? He was unfathomable, a mystery, and he intrigued the hell out of her. In bed, she just knew he would take her to the stars, perhaps even to the outer edges of the universe. Making love with Evan had always been tender and beautiful. Sometimes she had thought her husband held back, afraid of hurting her. With Logan, it would be hot, wild, and out of control. There would be no holding back for him.
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