Billionaire Bodyguard (3 page)

Less hostile and more curious, Logan regarded Rick. “What’s got you convinced Allison is some kind of threat?”

“A gut feeling.” Rick’s hazel eyes darkened to gunmetal gray. “That should be enough.”

Maybe it should. “We’re not in the field anymore. Or on enemy ground. This is my turf. I’d know if something was wrong.”

“You’re too close to this. To her.”

“I need more than a hunch. Find me
proof before you go off half-cocked.”

Rick’s nostrils flared. “Trust me. I will.”

“Until then, back off.” Logan flexed his hands, abruptly ending the conversation.

Logan didn’t like being second-guessed.  His pit bull CSO was totally off base. He admired Allison’s intelligence and work ethic. Sure, he was attracted to her. What man in his right mind wouldn’t be?

When the demonstrations concluded around five that evening, Logan met his crew of bodyguards assigned to the guests, gave them specific orders, and made sure everyone found their correct limousines and arrived safely at their destinations. The roads were a slushy, snow-covered mess. November in the Mile High City could be mild with endless vistas of sunshine. Or, like tonight, an early storm could make travel next to impossible.

As the last limo pulled into rush hour traffic, he headed toward the bank of elevators. He had a sole mission. And he refused to take no for an answer.

Before shutting down his computer, he checked the camera that looked in on Allison’s office. She hadn’t left for the day.
Perfect
. When he saw her reach for her jacket, he flicked off his monitor. Grabbing his coat, he cut the lights, locked his office and headed in her direction. He poked his head inside her door. “Got a minute?”

She jumped at his intrusion. “Oh!” Then she sighed. “You startled me.”

“I want a second of your time.”
A lot more than that, actually
.

“Sure.” She approached him, pulling her long hair out from the back of her coat. The blond strands floated around her shoulders, wispy with static.

Yellow light from a street lamp shone in through the window of the darkened office, bathing her face in warm tones, illuminating pure gold highlights in her hair like glitter. His fingers twitched yearning to tangle in the silken strands.

“Got plans for tonight?” he asked mildly.

She hesitated. “Not really. Why?”

“The company dinner to celebrate the Elite System’s release starts at seven.” He slid her an appealing smile. The one he used when a girl was taking the last sip of her martini as he convinced her to go home with him. Tonight, there was only one woman he wanted. “I want you to come with me.”

She licked her lips. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, preparing for heavy negotiation. “What if I promise I won’t overstep my bounds?” She wasn’t budging. “C’mon, it’s the best idea I’ve had all day. Don’t ruin the moment for me.”

She rolled her eyes. “You have at least fifty brilliant ideas a day.”

“Well, maybe twenty. But this one’s my personal favorite.”

A laugh sailed through her gorgeously kissable lips. “Your humility is inspiring,” she said dryly.

“Hey, we all have our gifts.”

“True,” she admitted fighting a grin.

“I want someone there I can actually talk to. Mingling with stuffy Suits isn’t my bag.”

“Logan, you’re one of those Suits.”

His mouth parted as he feigned offense. “Thanks a lot.”

“It wasn’t meant as an insult.”

“That’s how I took it.” He crossed his arms, leaning his shoulder against the door jamb. “Now you have to make it up to me.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Is that right?”

He offered gallantly, “I can think of a few ways…”

“Logan,” she warned.

A thrill chased through him. “Damn, you’re hot when you’re all riled up.”

“I’m not here for your personal amusement.”

No, but he liked teasing her, testing her. Few women went toe-to-toe with him. She had the grit to give it right back. “Face it, I’m not taking no for an answer.”

She blinked at him, exasperated. “Then why did you bother asking?”

“Seemed like the noble thing to do.”

A sigh lifted her chest, and he could almost taste victory. “I’m not dressed for a party.”

“We’ll stop at your place on the way.”

“Fine.” She threw her hands up in surrender. “You could’ve told me from the start I didn’t have a choice.”

He sobered. “You always have a choice.” Then he lifted a shoulder. “Doesn’t mean I have to agree with it.”

She huffed. “Getting past you is worse than airport security.”

“We all have aspirations.”

“You should aim for
loftier ideals. Like learning how to compromise.”
As they rode the elevator down to the first floor, she said, “If I agree to this, we’re driving separately.”

He frowned. “Sure that’s a good idea? We’ve had three inches of snowfall in under an hour. My SUV is a better bet than your compact.”

“I thought snow melted quickly here. How bad could it be?”

As the elevator opened to the lobby, he pointed out the two-story windows. White sheets of swirling snow muted the dark night beyond.

Allison paused. With her nerves already stretched thin today, driving in a squall with the threat of losing control of her car might induce another panic attack.

He said, “I think you should take my offer.”

She gulped. “So do I.”

Once they were on the road, she was bombarded by second thoughts. Logan tapped her address into his dashboard navigation. Although the interior of his Escalade was luxurious, and she appreciated heated seats, the close quarters set her on edge. His size alone was intimidating, but he also had knowledge of her intimate, vulnerable moments with him. Moments she needed to lay to rest but couldn’t. As he drove, unspoken thoughts condensed in the air between them. Not even the slap of windshield wipers or the satellite radio muted the words they didn’t say.
Although, Logan appeared annoyingly at ease.

Shoulders relaxed, one hand on the steering wheel, he maneuvered confidently through the snow-swept streets. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. Green and blue lights from the dashboard cast his face in profile, outlining his straight nose, deep-set eyes, chiseled jaw. Melted snow glinted on his hair and coat like tiny beads of blue and green.

His arm draped over the armrest between them, hand relaxed at the wrist, elbow slanted toward her. One sharp turn and his palm would land in her lap.
Which wouldn’t be so bad…

She bit her lip, dropping her gaze to the floor mat where the snow from her boots started to puddle. She wished she didn’t know how good his strong hands felt coasting over her bare skin, settling at the base of her spine as she arched to meet his need.

But who was she kidding? She’d been a willing participant. They both recognized what was on each other’s minds. Then, and now.

Seeing him in the dim light, sinfully hot, so close she smelled the woodsy-pine scent of him…any woman’s mind would wander into forbidden territory.
His lips held a trace of a smile as he stared straight ahead. If he could read her thoughts, he might dial up the seduction. She doubted she could withstand the heat without them both getting burned.
Tucking her elbows close to her body, she folded her gloved hands in her lap and even crossed her legs away from him.

The man knew how to get under a woman’s skin. And make her long to be in his bed.

She shivered.

“You cold?” He notched up the dual-control heating.

“I’m fine.”

He squinted at his GPS screen. “It says I’m supposed to turn right. I don’t remember condos or townhouses around here. This isn’t the greatest neighborhood.”

“Home sweet home.”

“Seriously?”

She crossed her arms. “The directions are right. Just follow them.”

In the few minutes his navigation offered her, she glanced around his vehicle and noticed several Snickers candy wrappers in his lower center console, where she would’ve expected a hydrating athletic drink to sit awaiting him. At the sight, she uncrossed her legs.
Maybe he was just a typical guy, not the intimidating CEO she’d expected when their relationship turned from personal to professional.

By the time he navigated into her building parking lot, her lower lip was raw from gnawing. At least the complex looked less dismal under the cover of darkness.
Sort of.
She wished her neighbor’s lamp didn’t spotlight his cockeyed broken blinds and the plant squashed against the slats.

Logan peered up at the rent-by-the-month units. “You live here.”

She fumbled with her purse. “It’s not that bad.”

“I’m calling my Realtor tomorrow.”

“That’s not necessary—”

“Trust me, it is.”

She narrowed her eyes. She didn’t like his bossy tone.

He stepped out of his Escalade, made it to the passenger side and opened the door as she reached for the handle. She blinked. The man could
move
.

“I can open my own door.” Prickly defiance edged her tone.

“I was raised on a military base in Pensacola, Florida,” he replied. “I also came from a long line of southern gentlemen. Manners aren’t optional.” He held out his hand. She reluctantly took it as he helped her down.

He didn’t let go when her feet touched the icy pavement. She tried to tug away, but his grasp was firm, warm. He brushed his thumb over the points of her knuckles before slowly releasing her. Despite her high-heeled boots, Logan stood a foot taller and easily reached over her shoulder to shut the passenger door. Their mouths were inches apart.

Their breath clouded and mingled in the crisp night. White flakes fell around them as if they stood in a snow globe, a frozen moment where time and complexity didn’t exist.

Heat cascaded through her. Her abdomen tightened with desire.

God help her, if he kissed her right now…

She just might let him.

CHAPTER 2

A barking dog broke the dream-like spell. Logan’s eyes sparkled with hunger, but he took a step back and yanked up his collar, glancing at the building. “Which one’s yours?”

“Third floor, center unit.”
Allison
gripped her keys. “I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

He tipped his head. “What kind of a gentleman would I be if I didn’t walk a lady to her door?”

“That’s not necess—” She stopped when she saw the stubborn set of his jaw. “Oh, all right.”

The man was in serious need of lessons in compromise. Not that she was much better at it. They were both too headstrong for their own good
and
each other.

Butterflies made swan dives in her stomach as she led him up the open stairwell. He followed at her heels to the third-floor exterior walkway. The closer they came to her door, the more uncomfortable she grew. She wasn’t sure about having him here. Disrupting her safe, secluded sanctuary.
Such as it was.

She’d just make him wait outside. In the cold.
And snow. Under the fluorescent-orange porch light that doubled as a bug graveyard.

Charming
.
She gave a mental shrug. He was the one who’d insisted on walking her to her door. His discomfort wasn’t her problem.

Holding up her tangle of keys, she flipped through them. Logan stood behind her, the long lapels of his black wool coat brushing her back. His breath wafted down her neck, seeping between the buttons of her jacket. She fought the urge to lean back, let his strong arms come around her.

Piercing beeps signaled the fifteen-second delay on her alarm. She rushed to the dual panels on the wall, quickly entering the codes. Lights flashed from red to green. She turned around, and bumped into Logan’s chest.
“Hey, you’re supposed to wait outside.”

Instead of complying, he investigated the devices. “A lot of security for a little place.” He scanned the labels bearing the Stone Security brand and model numbers. “A lot of money, too.”

“A girl can never be too safe.” She ignored his inquisitive stare. Spreading her arms to encompass her paltry collection of furniture—a drop-leaf table, a desk, a bookshelf, a TV that delivered three stations on a good day, a faded plaid couch that sagged in the middle, and landlord-beige walls. “I’d say make yourself comfortable, but you’re used to more impressive surroundings.”

“It’s…cozy.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll be fast.”

Dashing to the apartment’s single bedroom, she riffled through her wardrobe. How long had it been since she’d attended a formal function? She had the usual skirt suits for conferences and demos, and basic monochromic outfits for workdays. None of it up to par for tonight’s gala. She hauled out five outfits and promptly discarded them. Finally, at the back of her closet, she found the quintessential little black dress. She threw it on.

In her bathroom, she switched her curling iron on, then
added black liquid-liner to her eyes and pink gloss to her lips. Once her hair regained its wave, she unplugged the iron, dragged her fingers through the strands and sighed in resignation.

This is as good as it gets
.

Exiting the bathroom, she smoothed her moist palms over the tight fabric of her dress. The umpire-waist gown was on the small side—her breasts seemed bigger than usual, her hips rounder—making her self-conscious. She tugged the edges of her plunging V-neck closer together. Dipping into her hall closet, she plucked out a pair of maroon heels, more appropriate for the occasion than winter boots. Though, she’d never traipsed through a Denver snowstorm.

When she walked into the main room, she saw sexual fire snap to life in Logan’s eyes. “You look good.” He raked a heated gaze over her. “Too good.”

Maybe this dress was a bad idea. “I’ll change.”

“Hell no you won’t.”

When he grinned like that a dimple peeked out from his right cheek. God, he was gorgeous. She brushed past him, grabbing her coat. “Let’s get this over with.”

They drove thirty minutes to the five-star steakhouse downtown. As they passed the modern, glass-walled convention center and the grandly lit dome of the capital building, nerves jangled inside her.

Why had she let him talk her into this?

Hands twisting in her lap, she knew she didn’t belong at this gathering. Then again, she didn’t belong anywhere. Traveling with her parents as they gallivanted around Europe and Asia on the opera circuit, she’d lived out of well-appointed European hotels and
reveled in the excitement backstage at the most elegant opera houses in the world. She’d also slept in small inns, messy trailers, and sometimes the back seat of a car. Her experiences in the U.S. turned out to be just as scattered, despite her ex-husband’s promise of the American dream, a house in the suburbs with a white picket fence. They’d moved around between run-down military housing complexes and army base bungalows. Her diverse background should make casual conversation easy. Instead, as they neared the work event, she felt more isolated than ever. What did she really have in common with them? With Logan?

She envied his perfect self-assurance. Seamlessly, he blended into any setting amidst all types, from his league of blue-collar system installers to the professional bodyguards he employed, to heads of state. Why he’d want her as his guest, when he could’ve invited someone better—like a senator’s daughter or a supermodel—was beyond her.

He swung his SUV up to the valet and handed the attendant his keys. Then he escorted her through the blustery night, held the door and ushered her inside.
Glamorous chandeliers and glossy gold walls introduced them to the restaurant. He strolled up to the hostess. “Hi, Kendra.”

“Hello, Mr. Stone.” The hostess smiled and batted her lashes at him.

A typical female response, Allison had noted since she first met Logan at a security convention two years ago. Women couldn’t help themselves. She sighed. She’d succumbed to his charm herself. One night he seemed intent not to let her forget.

The hostess didn’t acknowledge Allison, the girl’s attention focused solely on him. “It’s good to see you again. Your party is right this way.”

They stopped at the coat check. Logan helped Allison remove her jacket, shrugged out of his, and handed the garments over the counter. Then they headed toward a bank of private rooms at the rear of the vaulted dining room.

When his hand settled on the small of her back, she stiffened. She walked a little faster.

“Relax,” he whispered in her ear.

Easy for you to say
.
He steered her toward the largest of the private rooms filled with dozens of people. She swallowed. “I’m having second thoughts.”

“You belong here as much as anyone. You need to take more pride in your work.”

She lifted her chin. “I take plenty of pride in what I do.”

It’s just she’d never navigated well in crowds. Right before they entered, she caught a glimpse of the packed room.

She dug in her heels. “I can’t do this.”

“Too late now.”

The instant he dragged her into the party room, everything froze. Conversations ended. People paused in the middle of sipping champagne.

Clapping rang out when he strutted forth as the guest of honor. Smiles adored every face.
What an entourage
. She wanted to melt into the floor.

“Thanks for coming tonight.” He beamed proudly, while she ducked into his shadow.

One of his receptionists raced up to him with an icy glass of dark amber liquid the color of his eyes. “Johnny Walker Blue label on the rocks, the way you like it, Mr. Stone.”

He lifted it high. “A toast,” he announced,
“to my talented colleagues, who’ve worked hard to take us to the top. Cheers.”

“Cheers!” they echoed. Glasses clinked.

After taking a sip, he revealed a bold
grin. “Now let’s get this party started.”

Laughter rose up. Conversations resumed.

Not before Allison caught plenty of stares directed her way.

Face hot, she broke from Logan’s side and bee-lined to the nearest corner. This happened to be the busy private bar, offering camouflage so she could gather herself.

He knew he’d be the center of attention when he walked in, placing her at the mercy of his spotlight.
Like unsuspecting Laoula in the French Opera
L'étoile.

Despite his charm and sex appeal, and how his smile could make her feel like the only woman in the world, he could also be single-minded and self-absorbed. And he still
made her knees weak. The jerk.

Clenching her hands, she turned to the bartender. “I need a Cosmo martini.”

“What kind of vodka?” he asked.

“Strong.”

The young man grinned. “You got it.”

While waiting, she peered over her shoulder. Putting distance between her and Logan seemed to have warded off coworker scrutiny.
People made a cocoon around him, drenching him in praise, peppering him with questions about the bright future of Stone Security. A future she’d never see.

She should be used to coming and going without making an impact. As a professional facilitator she was hired on short-term stints to train government and private sector employees, a passing figure, temporary.
How it’s supposed to be
, she reminded herself. So at any moment she could quietly pick up and leave before she made a connection, before she developed friendships, before anyone considered her important enough to keep around.
Or considered her a threat. Her ex-husband’s volatility spread like a forest fire, consuming everything in his path. No one deserved to get sucked into the raging
menace that continued to stalk her. She’d bear that burden alone. As long as she kept moving, she was safe. So was everyone she came in contact with, or came to care about.
Like Logan
.

Packing cool reserve around her wistful thoughts, she watched her colleagues smiling, laughing, discussing
the success of the Elite System, the snowstorm outside, the cafeteria meatloaf, the trials of potty training two-year-olds. It was all so…normal.

Oh, God, what I would give to know normal
.
Instead, she was planning her next trip into obscurity, before her past caught up to her.

*

Across the room, Logan’s head snapped up. He combed the crowd, eyes narrowed, searching for the cause of his distraction.

Despite an entourage of employees, he’d felt a chill. Scanning a moment, his eyes landed on Allison’s
gorgeous form folded in
shadows
near the bar.

He couldn’t explain it, her sudden detachment, but he felt as if he’d stepped into a walk-in freezer. It bothered him, like something that was rightfully his had been taken away.

A whiny tone pierced his intrigue. “Don’t you think we should broaden my territory to the upper Midwest?” Kurt Keegan inserted himself into the conversation, taking over the surrounding chatter.

Logan pulled himself into the moment. “Lance Briggs has Michigan and Wisconsin covered.” He exhaled. “Didn’t we have this discussion four weeks ago?”

A flush crept along
Keegan’s starched collar. “Sure, but you know, the orders are really pouring in, and I thought—”

“I gave you my answer.” Logan stood firm. “A few drinks at a casual company function won’t change my mind. Keep up with your own territory. Tonight, enjoy the party.”

That’s one thing he didn’t like about company functions. Offer a relaxed setting with food and booze,
and some people believed the line between friend and boss blurred.

His attention drifted back to Allison.
Then again, sometimes those lines
do blur
.

A brusque nod ended his conversation with Keegan. He moved across the room. Allison stood tucked between the wall and the bar wearing a pensive frown, her eyes downcast.
She looked sad, alone. Lost. He lengthened his strides.

En route, he watched her take a sip of her martini and immediately
shove it away, making a face like she’d bit into a lemon. Recently, he’d
noticed something was different about her. An added glow in her cheeks. Maybe the change in weather, or—

“What the hell have you done?”
Nostrils flaring, Rick stood in his path like a bull stamping the ground, prepared to charge.

“I’ve been making the rounds. You know, being social. That thing you hate. Now I’m getting a refill.” Logan gestured to Rick’s empty glass. “Want one?”

“I
want
you to quit obsessing over Allison.”

“Whose obsession, exactly?”

Rick ignored the retort. “What were you thinking, walking into a packed room with her like she’s your damn date?”

Logan set
his chin at a hard angle. “Maybe she is.”