Billionaire Bodyguard (9 page)

“Make yourself comfy. You might be here awhile.” Rick shrugged. “Then again maybe not.”

She crossed the room and sat in one of the cold leather chairs. A shiver went through her.

They stared her down, their eyes like gun barrels aiming for the kill. She clenched her hands in her lap. She’d almost rather face a real firing squad then endure the biting accusation in Logan’s tone as he said, “I have a problem.”

I’ll trade you
. She kept silent.

“I hired you because I believed you’d be an asset to me and Stone Security.”

She gave a tight nod.

“In light of new information,
my belief has changed.”

Any hope of a reasonable conversation, even a glimmer of reconciliation, shriveled inside her.
“I don’t understand.”

Logan’s jaw clenched. “Allison, I spent the first half of my career in Special Forces hunting down liars and enemies. I won’t have one working for me.”

Her cheeks burned as if he’d slapped her. “I’ve never lied to you.”

“We’re supposed to have a meeting in Washington D.C. on Friday with
top military people, the secretary of state, and ambassadors from three foreign countries.”

The demonstration she dreaded. “I’m aware.”

“That opportunity may be dead in the water.”

Surprise creased her forehead. She knew how much this meant to him, that it would be the golden ticket to future government contracts totaling billions. “Why?”

He flattened his hands on his desk with eerie calm. “When they find out I’ve been demonstrating this system with you, my company can kiss its reputation goodbye.”

Confounded by the accusation, she blinked. “What are you talking about?”

Logan took a sheet of paper in front of him and slid it across his desk. “Familiar?”

She caught the page and glanced at it, recognizing the photocopy of the government-issued document, the bright-eyed hopeful picture of herself, her name listed as Mrs. Trevor Hurtz. “That Visa is seven years old.”

“Your ties to Trevor Hurtz will spark questions, potentially an investigation. They’ll drill into every aspect of your life—and mine—to find out if you’re harboring a fugitive who’s blacklisted in France and under investigation for treason by the United Nations.”

“Why would anyone do that?”

Rick stepped forward. “You were in bed with a terrorist. An internationally convicted felon, former U.S. Black Ops who was on trial for smuggling arms to Somalia,
Syria and Iran.”

“I know nothing about that.” She flicked the offensive page back to Logan. “I don’t understand the problem. When I married Trevor I became a citizen here. I’m also a naturalized citizen in France, where I was born.”

“You just applied for a new passport six weeks ago. Coincidence?”
Rick was fishing for something, but he hesitated like he hadn’t baited her on his hook yet. She went rigid.

“Yes,
under my
maiden
name, Allison Dupree.”

Rick plopped a stack of pages in front of her. “On every piece of paper here,
Hurtz
gives one personal contact—you.”

“We were
married
. Isn’t your wife your emergency contact?”

“Why are you still on his?”

“I’m not.”

Exhausted, it took all her effort to stand up to Rick. Logan sat there cold and silent. So much for Devon’s belief that Logan cared about people who were hitting the skids. She’d been tried and convicted by these men before she’d stepped in the room. The reminder that she couldn’t count on anyone except herself butchered her budding tendrils of trust.

“The fact is,” Rick said, stalking up to her, invading her space, “you’re a liability. You’ve put everyone in Stone Security at risk, and this company could be put under investigation. Because of you.”

The closer he leaned, the more her chair became a prison. She slid out from under him and pushed to her feet. Bitterness ran like acid in her veins. Standing up for herself, she insisted,
“Whatever contact information Trevor has for me is nonexistent. I haven’t seen or spoken to him in two years.
He has no idea where I am. I work hard to keep it that way.”

Logan
rose slowly, drawing her glance. A light dawned in his light-brown eyes, as if her statement unlocked a puzzle he’d been trying to solve.

No surprise, Rick refused to take her word. “Not hard enough, because—”

“Rick.” Logan’s
controlled voice sliced through the hostility. “Stop.”

The warning went unheeded. “Your divorce papers only have one signature. Yours.”

“In the state of Pennsylvania, that was all it took.” The broken feeling inside her, when she’d walked into the courtroom that day,
came back fresh. The criticisms Rick hurled ripped open old wounds. Her voice was a raw sound. “Why are you doing this?”

Suddenly, Logan was at her side. “There’s been a misunderstanding.”

Rick fumed. “Like hell.” He returned his attention to her as she braced for another verbal lashing. “Your past compromises everything we are, everything we’ve worked for. And you knew it the moment you walked through the door.”

“Back down.” Logan stepped in front of her, shielding her behind him. “
Now
.” His tone was
low and lethal.

“You’re defending her? After the proof I’ve given you?”

Proof?

Icy
suspicion poured down her spine. She glanced at the stack of papers on the desk. Trevor’s military record, other government-issued documents...

“I’ve heard your argument.” Logan sounded far away, drowned out by the ringing in her ears.
“Now, I want her side.”

“Oh, my God.” Terror sheeted across her flesh. “What have you done?”

“Due diligence.” Rick scowled at Logan. When he turned his stare to her, his face released some of its harshness. “You okay?”

Her vision clouded white. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. Like a statue facing a tidal wave of destruction, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

“Allison.” She vaguely heard Logan at the edges of her consciousness. He grasped her arm. “What’s wrong?”

She scraped out a whisper. “Everything.” Her hand went to her abdomen protectively. She turned wide eyes to Logan, then Rick. “You just killed me and my baby.”

She swayed.

Facing her, Logan cupped her shoulders. “What did you say?”

“Our baby—”

Suddenly, she passed out. He caught her, supporting her limp body. “Allison?”

Logan wasn’t sure what he’d heard. He wanted her to repeat it back to him, slowly. Every syllable. But he needed her awake to do that.

Ignoring the way Rick raked his hand through his hair impatiently, Logan scooped her into his arms and carried her to a plush wingback chair, one of two positioned against the far wall flanking a narrow mahogany console.

“This is a ploy,” Rick muttered.

“I don’t think so.” Logan touched the back of his hand to her forehead. It came away clammy. “Something triggered this reaction.” He believed he knew the source.

The missing pieces of her story that had bothered him—her bare-bones apartment, the packed boxes in her closet, her constant vigilance—came at him from a new angle. Just now she’d said she worked hard to keep her ex-husband from knowing where she was. That’s when it all made sense. She was terrified of the man. The sort of terror he’d seen in women’s eyes in Rwanda after warlords sent minions into the bush to rape, kill and torture at will. A shudder went through him.

His security instincts kicked in. “Rick, what resources did you use to trace the background on Allison?”

He expelled a breath. “What does it matter?”

“Tell me.” Logan’s reserve of patience ran dangerously low.

“You know, the usual. Public government docs, court records, international intel.”

“How did you pull the searches?”

“Internet. Online news clips.” Rick shrugged.

“Hell.” Logan’s blood churned. Allison had reason to fear Rick’s prying. Trevor Hurtz had a past in Black Ops that came with an armory of specialized tactics, known to only two-percent of the population. From what Logan had read when Rick handed him the file, Hurtz was a pro. The man’s skills ranged from communications espionage to sniper training. And he’d gone to the dark side. Hurtz knew how to trace inquiries on him. Straight back to the source. He was a wanted man, a trained killer. Logan grew sick with remorse.

“You’re a real bastard sometimes,” Logan muttered over his shoulder.

“Excuse me?” Rick coughed.
“
I’m
the bastard?”

Allison’s eyelashes fluttered. Logan held up his hand. “Shush, she’s coming to.”

“Good. I have questions that need answers.”

Logan gritted his teeth. “You’ll shut up until I tell you different.”

“Did you just draw a line in the sand?”

Logan nodded. “Cross it, and you’ll wish you never knew me.”

Rick huffed with indignation. “What the hell’s gotten into you?”

Logan sank onto his haunches in front of Allison. He swept her hair back from her damp forehead. “You’re all right, Allison.” She blinked awake, eyes dazed. Then her face registered a resurgence of panic. “Easy, sweetheart.” He touched her gently, soothing away the fear. “Don’t try to sit up yet. Take it slow.”

Rick smacked his forehead. “Unbelievable.” He paced and muttered under his breath. “Try to do a guy a favor…the thanks I get…looking out for the company…then because of some chick…”

Logan leaped to his feet, whirled on Rick. “Get. Out. Before I throw you out.”

Rick stormed off.

Focusing on Allison again, Logan leaned in
coaxing gently. “It’s just you and me now. You’re safe.” He tried to ease her through the transition from unconsciousness back to the world of hostility and fear that had overwhelmed her. “Everything’s okay.”

As she regained her grip on the present, she seized up. “It’s not okay, Logan.” The way she cupped her abdomen caused him to arch an eyebrow. “Everything is a mess.”

“What were you saying before?” he urged. “Something about a baby?” For some reason he had trouble breathing.

A wretched look stole over her features. “I didn’t want to tell you like this.”

“Tell me what.”

“Logan, I’m pregnant.” She chocked back a sob. “And you’re the father.”

CHAPTER 5

Logan’s heart came to a standstill.

Pregnant?

Slowly, the news penetrated.

Allison was pregnant with his child.

Awe swelled in his chest. Archaic triumph awakened inside him.

Unexpected? Yes. Unwanted? God, no.

Suddenly, his world centered on a hope he’d forgotten to wish for. Something that had crossed his mind but he’d dismissed, his focus on building his business. There hadn’t been time to pursue anything else. Honestly, he’d assumed since he hadn’t found the right woman or the right situation, a family wasn’t going to happen for him. He’d been okay with that.

But now…

That faded hope came into sharp focus. Everything he’d thought was important before drifted away like a handful of feathers. All that mattered was Allison and this baby.

“It’s okay.” He said it to her as much as to himself, as it all sank in. “We’ll figure it out.”

Recognition flared of what now threatened this awakening dream. A danger Rick had created like a one-man wrecking ball, when he should’ve stayed the hell out of it.

At the same time,
Rick’s logical
retaliation came at him hard—that Allison could be making up the pregnancy to blind Logan to a bigger, darker truth. He hesitated.

Then he looked at Allison.

Shoulders hunched, she stared at him with eyes full of dread. She appeared on the verge of weeping.

No, she wasn’t faking this. Logan
dropped to his knees and cupped her face. “We’ll be okay, sweetheart.”

“How?” Her disbelief crushed him.

“We’ll work it out.” He kissed her forehead. His mind flashed to the past two hours, the suspicion and doubt he’d caved into so easily—shame on him—and the threat Rick had dredged up by pawing into her past. “I have to take care of something.”

He dug out his cell phone and made a call to the manager who headed the bodyguard division of Stone Security. “Send a detail up to my office. Yes, one of our security guards.
Yes
, my office. No one comes in or out except me.”

“Where are you going?” Allison asked, worry clinging to her words.

“To hand Rick his ass.”

“Don’t leave. Please.” Her green eyes were misty like a field after a thunderstorm. “It’s not Rick’s fault. He didn’t know. No one was ever supposed to know.” A tear leaked from the corner of her eye.

Reaching out, he brushed it away. “Sit tight. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Heading for the door, he flung it open. He marched into the hallway and collided with a dark-haired whirling dervish. “Geez, Logan. Watch where you’re going.”
Devon dusted herself off. “I’m glad I ran into you. You’ve got to tell Rick to back off his Spanish Inquisition,” she demanded.”

“Exactly what I’m doing.”

“Logan, every piece of intel on Trevor Hurtz is laced with encryptions and alerts that lead back to an untraceable IP address. The man has his online information strapped with virtual tripwire.”

“That’s what I figured.” He returned on course.

Devon grasped his arm, tugging him until he stopped to shake her off. “What?”

“Listen to me. Your girl is scared to death and she should be. Trevor’s a pro. I’ve never seen anything like him.” Devon’s dark eyes widened. “Did you know the first year of their divorce she took out three restraining orders on Trevor Hurtz—and he broke every one?”

Logan’s jaw clenched. “Come with me.”

Devon’s heels clicked behind him. Reaching the end of the hall, he shoved into Rick’s office and pointed a finger at his chest. “You just hit a hornet’s nest with a sledge hammer.”

“I’ll say.” Devon set her hands on her hips. “I hope you’re happy, Dunn. Because whatever favor you thought you were doing for Logan has jeopardized this entire company.”

“You’ve backed us into a corner,” Logan stated.

Rick glared. “Now you two think Allison walks on water, and
I’m
the problem?”

“Yes,” Logan and Devon said simultaneously.

Rick’s nostrils flared. “She turned both of you against me.” He grunted. “Should’ve seen that coming.”

“What you didn’t see coming,” Logan said, getting in Rick’s face, “is a man who’ll stop at nothing to find and take back what he thinks is his.”

Rick scoffed. “Let him have her. One less thing to worry about.”

Logan’s chest heaved at the idea. “No way in hell.”

Devon paced, her hands waving frantically. “Of all the days to take your idiot pill, Rick, you pick this one.”

Rick crossed his arms. “It can’t be that big a deal.”

Logan sent him a look threatening dismemberment. “You have no goddamn idea.”

“Out of my way.” Devon bumped Rick aside and commandeered his laptop. “I’ll show you what you’ve done.” She talked as she typed. “ARIN.net maintains records of owners of all IP addresses.”

Rick lowered his eyebrows doubtfully. “Every single one?”

“Here’s Stone Security’s chunk of the ARIN pie.” She showed them the ongoing list of addresses for all the people in the company and affiliated with them.

Rick shrugged. “So?”

“Each time you clicked on Trevor Hurtz’s name, an alert was sent to one IP address.
I tracked it as far as I could, but it leads to the Caribbean. The Bermuda Triangle of IP addresses. The address is untraceable, but I’ll bet you coconuts to cow turds it belongs to Trevor Hurtz.” Devon stared at Rick pointedly. “That means with each search you made on Trevor, you left a breadcrumb trail right back to Stone Security. Won’t take him more than a week to connect the dots and realize Allison is here.”

Rick balked. “All that, from a few searches?”

“That,” Devon scolded, “is why I’m chief information officer, not you.”

Rick cursed softly. “I was just trying to—”

“Help,” Logan supplied. “I know, but this could turn ugly.
Fast.”

“Now that you both have a heads-up, I’m going back to my office to run a few programs, see if I can’t head him off at the pass.” Devon shrugged. “Wherever that is.” She swept out of the room on a mission.

Rick rubbed his scalding red neck. “Look, Logan…”

Arms crossed, Logan waited.

“I’m sorry, man. It wasn’t supposed to go down like this. It’s not like I hacked into the CIA.”

“Maybe you should’ve. Then we’d know what we’re really up against with Hurtz.”

“I’ll make some calls.” Rick grabbed the phone on his desk and dialed a memorized number. “Some people still owe me favors in the Pentagon.”

Thirty minutes later, with the help of old contacts, Logan and Rick pieced together enough information to map out a solution. One that required around-the-clock protection for Allison.

Rick scrubbed a hand down his face. He said raggedly, “I had no idea her ex was a bona fide psycho.”

Logan released a heavy sigh. “Can you blame her for wanting to keep it quiet? Anyone who gets too close or asks too many questions faces a world of hurt he never saw coming.”

“What are you going to do?”

“The only thing I can.” Logan shrugged. “I’m moving her in with me.”

Rick coughed. “You’re kidding.”

“Care to test that?”

At the steely response, Rick held up his hands. “Okay, fine. Not joking. But
don’t you think—”

“Haven’t you given enough bad
advice for one day?”

Sitting back, Rick stared mutely at his desk.

Logan stood and buttoned his suit jacket. “Now I just need to convince the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met that,
to stay safe, I’m her
only option.”

This is one argument I look forward to winning
.
As he left Rick’s office, resolution forged inside him. He nodded to the security guard stationed outside his door. Mind whirling with lawyer-like precision, he walked through his door.

His office was empty. He stopped, looked at the door, looked back at the vacant room. He confronted the guard. “Where is she?”

“You mean the blonde? She was late for an appointment.”

“And you let her leave?” Logan roared. “Your orders were not to let anyone in
or out
. How was that unclear?”

The man paled. “She—I—she said she had a plane to catch, and if I didn’t let her leave I’d foot her bill. She told me the office would be safe.”

“It isn’t my
office
I care about.”
Damn it
. “Get out of here,” he ordered the guard.

The guard
managed to follow that directive. Logan slammed his door. Then opened it again and stalked toward Allison’s office. He found it empty. He bit his thumb nail as he paced. He returned to his office and logged into his personal Stone Security account, standing as he typed. He’d put Allison on his account number when he’d upgraded the system in her apartment. He didn’t want her paying for safety he would
give her for free. It also sent him alerts if her system was breached.

At the time, he hadn’t expected to use the information to spy on her, but this was important. He wasn’t going to let her take off to God-knew-where before they had a chance to talk. Come up with options. Discuss and make decisions together. He had a say in his child’s future. Allison’s days of flying solo were over.

He accessed the online feed, waited for the download then checked her system’s history. She hadn’t set the code since eight that morning. She hadn’t gone home. He didn’t blame her, with Hurtz
now lurking in her subconscious fears. Logan
programmed any change in her system’s status to send a text to his cell phone.

His mind churned, grasping for options. He needed someone with connections to air travel. He scrolled through his phone’s contacts list until he found a number he hadn’t dialed in a while. The line picked up.

“Angie, it’s Logan Stone.”

“Well, hey there, gorgeous,” Angie purred on the other end. “It’s about time you called.”

“I need a favor.”

“Mmm, me too.” She gave a silky laugh. “I’m between flights in Houston. Give me two hours to arrange travel to Denver. Your house, around
eight?”

Logan arched an eyebrow. “Uh, no. Not that kind of favor.”

“That’s a shame,” she pouted. Finally, she sighed. “Okay, what
else
can I help you with?”

“I need you to check international travel out of Denver. Flights leaving between five and midnight. Passenger name is Allison Dupree.” Then he added, “Or Allison Hurtz.” He wanted to cover all bases.

Angie paused. “Let me make some calls. I’ll get back to you.”

“Thanks, Angie.”

“You owe me.” Her insinuation left him cold.
He punched the end-call button.

Strange, how a woman who’d once turned him on meant nothing. Angie was a good-looking redhead, with a body that wouldn’t quit, but his libido’s former response didn’t register, not even a flicker of appeal.

That was new.

He ran a hand down his face. Damn,
Rick was right. Allison had gotten to him on a level that didn’t compare to other women. She was the one he wanted, the only one who made him burn with need.
Where the hell was she?

After twenty minutes, Angie called back. Logan gripped his phone. “Anything?”

“Sorry, Logan. There’s no one named Dupree or Hurtz
with a plane ticket for a flight out of Denver tonight.”

Relief poured through him. “That’s good news. Thanks, Angie.”

“Call me again, sometime—?”

Logan hung up before she finished her sentence. Rude, considering the weight she’d lifted off his mind.
But a new weight took its place.

He had a missing pregnant woman on his hands.

He moved down the hall toward Devon’s office. She was his go-to girl when he needed help with the female psyche.

Devon’s chair was empty, her coat and laptop gone. “Did everyone suddenly take the afternoon off?” He looked at his watch. It was four-thirty. He made a sound of frustration.

He wondered who Allison would turn to in Denver if she had a problem. Obviously, it wasn’t him. The answer stared him in the face, in the form of Devon’s empty seat. Devon wouldn’t side against him.

Would she?

A muscle ticked in his jaw. He grabbed his coat, yanked out his car keys then hit speed-dial on his phone.

Only one way to find out
.

*

“One night, Devon. That’s all I’m asking.” Allison tried not to sound desperate.

She hated turning to anyone for help. However, she needed a safe place to mull over recent experiences—not alone in her apartment. Right now she didn’t know which way was up, or how to find the light at the end of this dark tunnel.