Chapter 12
Gemma sat up in bed with a start, her heart pounding. It took her a moment to remember where she was, the familiar shapes and shadows of Logan’s apartment coming into focus.
She’d had a crazy dream about the man who attacked her. She smelled the stench of his filthy skin before he knocked the wind out of her, following her to the ground as the full weight of his body landed on her back.
She’d tried to scream, but it came out as a whimper. “Leave me alone!”
A man’s shiny black dress shoes stepped in front of her face. “I love you, Gemma.” It was Royce’s voice, but when she looked up to see him, she was staring into the eyes of her father.
“Does anybody need a lawyer?” he asked.
She shivered. No way she was ever going to get back to sleep tonight.
Logan shifted in his sleep and she looked back at his sleeping form. The two nights they’d spent together had been the best two nights she’d had in a long time.
It’s not like this can turn into something serious. You’re way too old for him.
She frowned. Some women had relationships with younger men. Why couldn’t she?
She wrapped Logan’s bathrobe around herself and padded to the living area. The sun would be up soon, the eastern half of the sky already illuminated, throwing the loft into some kind of twilight.
She wandered around the space, considering the sparse furniture and decor. In a way it gave the few pieces he had that much greater significance, and she imagined she could get to know the man by the things he used to fill his space.
One wall held a bookcase, desk and several framed degrees. The PhD in computer science came as no surprise, but the medical degree had her mouth hanging open. She touched the abrasion on her cheek. He hadn’t thrown in a sly, “I’m a doctor” when he’d treated her injury.
Perhaps the degree was a joke, like a fake magazine cover or a prank lottery ticket. Something you could print off the Internet to amuse your friends.
Or maybe it isn’t.
She hummed softly. She might have to change her computer-nerd-with-the-body-of-a-Greek-god idea of him if it was real. She focused on the year he graduated and gaped, doing some quick mental math.
She was thirteen years older than him, not quite as bad as she’d thought, but seeing the year in print was a reality check.
Her hip bumped the desk in front of her, a computer monitor coming to life from the movement. Her eyes went back to the big screen, which was mirroring the open inbox on the smaller laptop.
The names of several judges caught her eye, along with a political figure she knew professionally. Was this her email she was looking at?
She narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing the names, one standing out from the others.
Barbara Royce.
It took a minute for confusion to give way to understanding. This was Royce’s computer, not her own, and those were emails to his wife. She looked back at Logan, his eyes closed, his naked body tangled in the bedsheets.
He was just a guy she’d met in a club.
Or was he?
She’d simply assumed theirs was a chance meeting, but what if it was not? The kidnappers knew who she was—one of them had attacked her on the street.
Oh God. What if another one had approached her in a nightclub?
Pure fear blew through her like the coldest breeze. Logan was connected to the people who’d taken Royce. He must be.
He was dangerous.
She was in danger.
As if on cue, Logan’s eyes opened. “Hey. Good morning.” He sat up, looking from her to the computer screen and back again. “What are you doing?”
She looked to the door on the other side of the apartment, but she’d have to run right past the bed. “Nothing.”
He threw back the covers and stood, the nakedness she’d found so alluring now frightening her. “Why are you on my computer?”
“It’s not yours.” She grabbed a pair of scissors from a cup on the desk, holding them like a sword. “It belongs to Anthony Royce. Now how about you tell me why you have it?”
“I’m not going to hurt you, Gemma.”
“Shut up. You lied to me.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You let me think you were just some stranger. But that’s not true, is it?”
“I’m just going to grab my shorts.” He pulled them up, zipping the zipper and leaving the button open so they hung low on his hips.
She’d taken one look at that body and hopped into bed with him. What a fool!
“Tell me how you’re involved with Royce. Did you take him?” she demanded.
“No. He’s a client of HERO Force. I met him the day he was kidnapped. The explosion happened right in front of our headquarters.” He held up his injured palm. “I tried to save his wife, but it was too late.”
His burned hand.
She’d wondered about that.
“What a saint,” she said. “But you still didn’t explain how you managed to hook up with me. Don’t tell me it was a coincidence. I don’t have my idiot blinders on anymore.”
“I followed you and your friend there.” He walked slowly toward her. “I went to the scene of the explosion. I watched his wife die hours earlier and I was upset. I was just…walking.”
He was almost to her, and the hand holding the scissors started to shake.
“Then there you were, and I followed you and your friend to the club. I wanted to know who you were. How you knew Royce.”
He went to touch her shoulders and she jerked her body out of reach. “Don’t touch me.”
His stare spoke volumes, reminding her of every intimacy they’d shared, that a touch now was nothing compared to what they’d already done together.
She’d all but begged him to make love to her last night, actually letting herself think it might be the beginning of something real between her and Logan.
Stupid girl.
“I’m telling you the truth, Gemma. I want to help you.”
He moved so quickly, she barely registered the movement before he’d lunged and taken the scissors from her hand. “You don’t need these. I would never hurt you.”
She pushed past him, feeling herself tremble. “I’m going home.” She gathered her clothes from the floor, holding them tightly against her chest.
“You’re not safe there anymore, remember?”
“Call me crazy, but I don’t feel so safe here, either.” She went in the bathroom and slammed the door behind her before twisting the lock and leaning up against it.
All she wanted to do was hide. She should have known better than to get involved with a total stranger.
Walk the straight and narrow.
Don’t do anything reprehensible.
No casual sex.
Expect everything to come out in the open, and when it does, know that you will be able to hold your head high.
She dressed quickly, desperate to leave this place. She’d be safe in her own apartment, doors and windows locked against the masked man who’d attacked her and the unmasked one who’d crawled beneath her skin.
That was what she got for relying on a man to save her, instead of saving her own damn self. She opened the door and kept her head high as she passed him, not meeting or stare.
“Please don’t go,” Logan said.
She slammed the door behind her.