Billionaire Bodyguard (8 page)

I’m pregnant…with Logan’s child
.

CHAPTER 4

Allison trudged into work the next morning with all the enthusiasm of a death row inmate heading to the gallows. Denial swirled thickly around her. Her mind erected a steel blockade to shield her from the complications and staggering changes
awaiting her. She was carrying Logan’s baby.

As she walked into the building, the lobby looked too bright, the marble too shiny. A weightless sensation took over as if she were moving under water. Muted voices echoed around her. People bobbed
in slow-motion. The elevator heading up was cramped, confining, unbearable. She got off on the second floor and took the stairs to the eighth.

She went through the motions of the workday in a cloudy, surreal haze.
Thank God she hadn’t run into Logan yet. She had no idea what to say to him. How to tell him.
If she should tell him at all.

A wretched taste hit the back of her throat
at the thought. He deserved to know. She’d never keep something like this from him. She just didn’t want to face him, his reaction, when she revealed the truth.

Her legs moved like lead weights, carrying her about on menial missions, a series of mindless errands filling the day. No demonstrations until Friday, thank goodness. She dreaded that, though, knowing how close they’d be. She’d feel the heat of his body, the warmth of his touch, the sexy charm of his smile. She’d want him all over again.

Don’t go there
, she warned herself. It was pointless.

Last night’s events had certainly ended whatever might’ve been between them. They’d both made that clear. The problem was they’d be forever linked with this baby. That anchor of reality plunged her hopes of living fear-free in France to an unreachable abyss.

She’d already wrestled through the night with a deluge of shock, denial, resentment, amazement, awe, devastation. About every conflicting feeling accessible to the human range of emotion, she’d experienced.

Now she was plain exhausted. Numb. Wrung dry.

Returning from the second floor marketing office, she sank wearily into her chair. She closed her eyes, resting her forehead on the back of her wrist.

Any sensible course of action eluded her, as though
she floated alone on a life raft, seeing nothing but endless ocean in every direction. Her options were bleak. Which heaped on horrible guilt for not being happier about the small miracle inside her.

A baby
.
She placed her hand lightly on her abdomen. What right did she have to receive this gift? What did she know about raising a child? She’d had no role models, no practice—she’d never even given it a thought, too focused on France to consider anything else.

What do I do?

No answer came. Nothing. Her brain, her heart, and her soul had left the building. She was a shell facing the crushing weight of the unknown.

Her office door sailed open. Devon breezed in. “Hey.” She grinned, her teeth bright within the frame of her red lips. “Stopped by to see if Vivi Syndrome wore off yet.”

“That woman is the least of my problems.” Allison couldn’t meet her eyes.

Gaze narrowing shrewdly, Devon shut the door. “I noticed you and Logan left pretty quick.”

Allison nodded, said nothing.

“Are you okay? You look like hell warmed over.”

“Thanks.” Allison gave a hollow laugh. “About how I feel.”

“That bad?”

Tension tightened at her temples. She tried to respond, but the words stuck in her throat.

Devon’s back straightened with take-charge ambition. “I see a two-martini lunch in our near future.” She glanced at her watch. “Make that happy-hour. It’s almost five-o’clock. Somewhere.”

“I wish.” Defeat clung to Allison.

Devon gave a decisive nod. “I’ll make the reservation immediately.”

“Don’t.” Allison stopped her. “I can’t.”

“Oh, please.” Devon rolled her eyes. “Logan’s not a slave driver. You can play hookie for one afternoon.”

Allison shook her head wearily. “I mean, I can’t drink. And I’d be the worst company.”

“Drowning your sorrows at the bottom of a bottle is a perfectly fine coping mechanism. I highly recommend it.”

Allison fixed her stare on her desk. “Not for the next nine months of my life.”

“What do you mean, the next nine—” Devon froze to the spot. “Don’t tell me you’re…”

“Yep.
Pregnant. Yes, it’s Logan’s. Isn’t that wonderful?” Allison burst into tears.

“Oh, honey.” Compassion gentled Devon’s voice.

A strangely comfortable silence passed between them. No judgment, no pity, no questions. Just quiet companionship. Allison’s gratefulness caused more tears to well up and spill down her cheeks. Her eyes ached. Her throat was raw. The tears kept coming.

Devon picked up the nearby box of Kleenex handed her a tissue. Allison wiped her dripping chin, feeling pathetic but surprisingly
relieved. Like the sticky mess inside her had been scraped away and life became a little cleaner, a little clearer.

Devon asked softly, “Does Logan know?”

“No.” Allison blew her noise. “Not yet.”

A wry note
accompanied Devon’s
tone. “I’d love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.”

“Me, too. Then I wouldn’t have to be in my own skin. An out-of-body experience sounds like paradise compared to standing there, defenseless and alone, waiting for his reaction.”

“First of all, you’re not alone. Let’s clear that up right off the bat. Second—”

“I’ve always been alone.”

“Second,” Devon repeated firmly, “as far as defenses go, Logan’s not the type to lose it when things really count. Sure, he’ll rant and rave up a storm if someone’s made a stupid mistake that cost him a deal. But that’s business. When it comes to friends and family, he’s the guy you
want on your team.”

“I’m not a friend or family.”

“You are now.” Devon slid a meaningful glance to her abdomen.

“What if I don’t want a family? What if I’m not ready for any of this?”

“Buckle your seatbelt, sister. This ride’s already started.”

Allison’s chin trembled. Devon handed her another tissue. “I’m not Logan’s problem.”

Devon considered her. “Logan would sooner kick a wounded puppy as throw his pregnant girlfriend out on the streets. It’s not in him. He doesn’t abandon or reject the people who need him. If anything, his weakness is getting too involved, caring too much.”

“I’m not his girlfriend.” Resentful frustration grated on her. “He owes me nothing.” Defiance straightened her spine. “Maybe I don’t want anything from him. Maybe it’s better if I walk away.”

Devon snorted. “Yeah, like he’d let that happen.”

A glimmer of hope rekindled in Allison. “If he doesn’t want this baby, I can still move to France.”

Devon blinked at Allison’s sudden change of heart. “What’s in France?”

“The life that’s been waiting for me for four years.”

“You, you mean…” Devon stumbled over her words. “You have someone there?”

Allison shook her head at Devon’s misunderstanding. “Someone who’s
not
there.”

“Enlighten me.”

“That’s a long, ugly story.”

“I just cleared my schedule.

Allison gave a short sigh. “It’s not safe for me to stay
in the States.”

“Logan’s good at keeping people safe. Have you noticed where we work?”

“I promised myself I’d never give a man control over my life again.” Warmth and color returned to her insides. She stated decisively, “I’ll raise the baby in France by myself.”

“Heads up, honey. Logan won’t go for that, not for a minute. He takes care of his own.”

Allison crossed her arms. “I can take care of myself.”

“Not if you or your unborn child is in danger.” Devon’s lips pressed together in a moment of thought.
“We may not be maid-of-honor best friends, but I know this isn’t you. Why are you scared?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Allison said coolly, gathering familiar defenses around her like old allies.

Bewilderment stamped Devon’s face. “You’d deny Logan’s rights as the father of this baby just to get out of Dodge?”

“You don’t know my ex-husband,” Allison said darkly. “If he ever learned I was pregnant, with another man’s child…” She shuddered to her bones. “France is my best—my only—option.”

Devon slapped her hands on her hips. “Now you’ve done it.” She shook her head. “Now I’m so intrigued with the Darth Vader of your past, I must investigate him.”

Allison’s heart raced. “Don’t.
Please
.” She grasped Devon’s wrist as fear churned inside her. Trevor possessed a ruthless ability to find her. He knew he was being watched by several foreign countries. With his heightened paranoia, he constantly tracked whoever looked him up online or Googled him. He’d orchestrated alerts sent to his email when his military files were accessed. And he had the skill to uncover who made the inquiry. She’d seen it firsthand. Devon’s investigation would lead Trevor straight to her. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. Just don’t try to find him or contact him.” She wracked her brain to come up with something to stop her. “You said Vivi was the Plague? Then Trevor is the Grim Reaper, scythe and all. I swear, Devon. He can’t find out about this baby.”

“You know what that tells me?”

“What?” Allison
rasped.

“You have no business being out there on your own. Whatever arrangement Logan offers, you should take it. No matter how much you hate doing it. I’m serious. Logan may be the only real
safety you and your baby have.”

“Arrangement. God, that sounds so…demeaning. Might as well rip out my pride and smear it across the floor.”

Devon pointed out evenly, “It sounds to me like your ex-husband already did that.”

Allison allowed her deep inner pain to come to the surface. The muscles in her face contracted with agony. “When he was finished with me, I had nothing left, Devon.
Nothing
.”

“Things are better now, right? He’s out of your life.” Devon’s slim fingers rested on Allison’s
shoulder, a gesture of alliance. “No one can drag you back to that dark place again.”

“Never,” Allison confirmed. “I’m not that person anymore.”

Suddenly her computer dinged like a bell, alerting her to a new email message. She glanced at her screen. It was from Logan. The subject line read:
Be in my office in 30
. The tone was abrupt. A one-line demand. “Lovely.”

“What is it?”

Allison’s shoulders drooped as the weight of uncertainty descended again. “Logan wants me in his office in half-an-hour. He doesn’t sound happy.”

“He was never the honors English type. Don’t read into an email.” Devon sounded so sure of that, so sure of everything. Then she suggested, “Take time to gather yourself. Go to your happy place. Put on your brave-girl hat, and tell him the truth.”

“How?” Allison’s voice cracked.

“Don’t worry about the ‘how.’ Just state the facts so you can move on.”

“To what?” Allison asked raggedly.

Devon shrugged. “No idea, but at least you won’t be stuck in emotional purgatory.”

“I guess.” She knew Devon was right.
I need to get this over with
.

Before she reached the door, Devon turned. “I expect a phone call afterward.”

“Why?”

“I want to know how it went. That’s called support, Allison. It’s what friends do.”

Friends
.
The word made tears shimmer in her eyes. Her throat tight, she could only mouth the words
thank you
.

Devon sent her an encouraging smile. “Talk to you later.”

The next thirty minutes passed with the momentum of a drunk
slug. When clock on the wall read 3:30, she forced herself up from her desk and walked stiffly to Logan’s office. She reached his closed door, unusual for Logan.

Summoning courage, she knocked.

“What?” Logan’s tone sounded as curt as his email.

She forced calm into her voice. “It’s Allison.”

“Come in.”

As she entered, she kept her gaze fixed on the carpet.

“Shut the door behind you,” he instructed.

Once she closed the door, she swallowed and looked up.

Logan sat forward in his chair wearing a severe expression, hands folded tightly on his desk blotter. By contrast, Rick Dunn stood behind him, arms crossed and a smug grin curling his lips. Rick wore the demeanor of a loan shark who’d come to collect. The
recognition crept over her that she’d waded into enemy waters.

“Have a seat.” Logan gestured one of
the chairs opposite his desk.