Dead Double Page 16
“You seem to think that Logan hates you. I wanted to let you know that he is thinking about your safety. Actually, he’s obsessing about it.”
“That’s not the same thing as not hating me,” Sahara assured her. “Keeping me safe isn’t personal. He just wants to keep his score sheet clean.”
Jacqui looked past Sahara. “Hello, Logan,” she said smoothly.
Sahara turned to see that Logan was back in the room, his hand on the handle of the door. He stepped back out of the doorway and shut the door. This time, softly.
How much had he heard? She mentally shrugged. She refused to feel guilty for speaking the truth.
Chapter Fifteen
Logan stalked into the ops centre, which had taken over the suite next door to the one that he and Sahara were using. Everyone else not on active duty could be found here.
He saw Celia sitting at a table, cleaning her broken down Colt automatic. He nodded to her to let her know that he’d left Sahara’s side and to put Celia on the alert.
In reaction, she put her gun together in easy, practiced movements. It took less than thirty seconds. She slid the gun back inside her ratty denim sleeveless jacket and rested her forearms on her knees. The seated ready position.
There was only one other free chair and that was on the other side of the little table she had been using, so Logan threw himself into that one, rested his head against the wall behind him and closed his eyes.
Why hadn’t he foreseen the pure hell this job would put him in? Sahara as Micky was a deadly combination that was driving him crazy. He had told Sahara nothing but the truth—if he wasn’t dead at the end of this operation, he would most certainly be ready for commitment to a mental hospital.
“She’s a tough broad, that one,” Celia said quietly, so her voice didn’t carry much beyond the table. “Clever, too.”
“Uh-huh,” Logan agreed tiredly.
“She ain’t bending the way yer want, mmm?”
“I suppose.”
“Or is it that yer don’t know what way you want ’er to bend?” Celia added.
Oh, I know, all right. Logan straightened up from his lean against the wall and let the legs of the chair return to the floor. He looked at Celia.
She gave a small smile. “I see,” she said, with a nod, even though he hadn’t said a word.
“Why don’t you hurry up, marry Nelson, get pregnant and put us all out of our collective misery?” Logan snarled at her.
“If that ever ’appens, then Nelson’s the one what’s going to stay ’ome and take care of the baby.” She smiled and stood up, patting her jacket in the unconscious motion that assured her the gun was still there and kept her jacket from falling open too much. “And I luv yer too, you pain-in-the-rear Yank.” She walked away, her soft laugh lingering behind her.
Logan looked over at Elias, who was working on the closest bank of equipment with Nelson, who wore huge headphones. Elias was watching him, which told Logan he’d heard every word.
“As your superior,” he said, also keeping his voice soft so it wouldn’t travel far, “I’m giving you a direct order. Do something to pull the fuse on this time bomb you’ve got building inside you. I don’t care what it is. Meditate, beat the crap out of something, buy a hooker. Whatever it takes, Logan. I don’t want you exploding around my staff and maybe getting somebody killed because your temper impaired your judgment. Just get rid of it, you hear me?”
It had been years since Elias had pulled rank on him but Logan knew he was right. “I hear you,” he said, standing up.
Nelson took off the headphones. “Jacqui’s back in her suite. She says Sahara is going to bed.” He glanced at Logan.
“Your turn,” Elias said blandly.
* * * * *
Sahara heard the outer door of the suite open and a low murmur of voices. That would be the security guard at the door. Then the door shut.
Silence.
She shivered and pulled the pale green robe about her more tightly and braced herself.
“Sahara?” Logan’s voice.
“Here,” she called.
She heard him open the bedroom door. “Jacqui said you were heading for bed.”
“That’s right.” She turned to face him, trying to maintain the calm she had found. “How does this work, Logan? Do you just hop into the bed next to me, or what?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Just go to bed. I’ll be in the suite and later, in the room. But your bed is quite safe.”
A few knots in her stomach unwound themselves and disappeared. “You get to sleep on the floor?” she asked.
“I won’t be doing too much sleeping at all,” he told her.
“But—”
“Don’t worry about it,” he repeated, a bit more sharply. “I’ve had endless training for this sort of thing. A few nights without sleep won’t even make me blink.”
“Really?”
“Really,” he returned dryly.
She relaxed a bit more but she had still to tackle the other issue. She walked around the bed and stopped at the corner of it. It placed her a bit closer to him but now the bed wasn’t between them.
“I need to apologize,” she said, trying to stop her voice from shaking. “Jacqui pointed out tonight that I’m…well, I’m using Micky’s bitchiness to knock you around. Even though I hate the idea that I could be so petty, Jacqui’s right. I’ve been trying to get even for, well, for your rejection. I’m sorry, Logan. Truly I am. I’m not like that. Well, I didn’t think I was like that. My only excuse is nerves.” She considered that and grimaced. “Maybe a bit of Micky is rubbing off on me.” She tried a smile but it was a weak thing.
Logan was staring at her. Staring through her.
“Logan?” she prompted.
“I think I’m speechless,” he said at last. “That’s the last thing I expected to come out of your mouth.” He walked to the window and leaned on the sill, looking out into the night. “Dammit!” he said softly and thumped the sill with the heel of his hand.
“Why? What have I done wrong?” she asked, alarmed.
“You’ve just ruined it,” he said, keeping his back to her. “I wanted you pissed at me. I wanted your hackles up and you spitting like a tiger cub every time I came near you.”
Confusion was making her head spin. She could only stare at him, hoping it would all come together in a minute or two and make sense. “But…why? I thought you hated me! I thought the reminder of Micky was making you sick.”
He hung his head for a moment, then turned to face her. “I lied, Sahara. I lied.”
Her mouth opened but she couldn’t sort through the hot churning in her head and heart to pick out one of the thousand questions pushing at her.
Logan shrugged. “I’m a liar, remember?”
“You don’t hate me?”
“God, no! Why, of everything I’ve said, did you choose to believe that one lie? You’ve seen through every other bloody lie I’ve told you!”
“Because that one hurt the most.” She hung her head, ashamed of her weakness and of the confession itself. “If that is a lie, then why did you want me angry? Why did you want me away from you?”
“Because I didn’t know if I could stay away from you if your anger wasn’t pushing me away.”
Her heart lurched. She lifted her head again. Logan hadn’t moved but the air between them did suddenly seem thicker. Warmer.
“Oh, Logan,” she whispered, her heart strumming with the tension. “Why are you telling me now?”
He gave a small, choked sound. “Your apology. You’re behaving like a decent, centered adult. I hadn’t counted on that. I’ve got used to you looking like Micky. I guess I was expecting you to behave like her—and nobody could hold a grudge the way Micky could.”
“I did, for a while,” she confessed.
“Only because I was doing everything to make sure you did,” he said flatly. “Damn it, Sahara. Why couldn’t you have been a bitch like Micky? Then I coul
d have hated you properly and you wouldn’t be tearing my insides out right now.”
Her body tightened as his words ended in a low growl. The sensation of something turning over, low in her stomach, spread a powerful wave of sensation through her. Her heart hurried and her breathing too. She wanted to go to him but the tension radiating from him kept her pinned in place.
“Why am I tearing your insides out?” she asked. Her voice was weak and soft after his.
“Because I want you. You, Sahara. The woman underneath the Micky layer. I’ve wanted you since I watched you face down a gunman in your store in order to keep his gun off your friend.”
“But in the limousine, you said—”
“I know what I said,” he growled. “I know what I did. I remember that whole evening in Technicolor. The rye didn’t do a damn thing to take the edge off it. God, you looked so much like Micky it was like someone had taken a cleaver to my heart. I couldn’t believe that the woman I wanted had turned into the woman I hated.”
He took a step closer to her. “But when I had you in my arms, finally, it wasn’t Micky. It was Sahara I held.” He shook his head a little. “It was overwhelming, Sahara. I would have taken you right there and then.”
“I wish you had.”
The expression on his face was one of such need that Sahara wanted to throw herself into his arms. Her body was almost tugging her in his direction. But Logan was not moving toward her, so she kept herself still.
“I wish….” he whispered and Sahara’s heart leapt. He took a deep breath. “We can’t,” he said softly.
“Why not?” she demanded. “We’re both consenting adults.” Then she turned her mouth into a grimace. “Oh, for…. Don’t tell me. Some antiquated rule about not getting close to someone on your team or some such, right?”
“There are good reasons for—”
“Bullshit,” she interrupted and saw his eyes widen. “What about Nelson and Celia?”
“That’s—”
“No, it’s not different,” she railed. “You’re just hiding behind rules because you’re afraid.” She moved closer to him, deliberately bringing herself to within a few inches of his chest. “Why are you afraid?”
He took a deep breath. Another. “I’m not afraid,” he said, his voice very low.
“But you still insist that we can’t be together?”
His answer was slow to emerge. “Yes.” She saw him swallow.
She reached up to slide her hands under the lapels of his travel-creased jacket. “Stop me, if you believe you should,” she whispered and pushed the jacket off his shoulders so that it slid down his arms and dropped to the floor.
“Sahara….” he warned, his voice merely a rumble in her ears.
“You just have to stop me,” she assured him. “Reach up and take my hands, make me stop.”
Under the jacket he wore a shoulder harness and a gun under his arm. She had half-expected it but it still looked ugly. She gripped the handle of the gun and drew it out delicately, so that she was holding it between finger and thumb. She put it on the bed beside her, so that the handle was closest to him and turned back to strip him of the shoulder harness.
He remained perfectly still but her over-heated senses picked up the increase in his breathing. The heat pulsing from him was like hot coals glowing in the grate. She licked her lips.
“Don’t do that,” he said and his tone was almost pleading.
“Lick my lips?” She smiled as she reached up to undo the buttons on his shirt, one slow button at a time. “You like that, Logan?” She slid the button undone, revealing a few more inches of his chest. The flesh revealed was tanned, silky to touch and there was a strong dip in the middle. As she undid the next button, she saw that it arrowed down to his abdomen. The next button showed the abs themselves, a well-defined, lightly tanned six-pack. “Oh my….” she breathed and ran her fingertips over the ridges and dips, fascinated. The flesh was soft but the muscles beneath rippled at her touch.
“God, stop, I beg you,” Logan groaned.
She shook her head. “You’ll have to do that,” she told him. She pulled the shirt out of his trousers, undid the last button and pulled it off his shoulders. It fluttered to the ground where his jacket lay.
She felt her lips purse into another “oh,” but she was unable to say it aloud. Her heart thundered as she paused to appreciate his naked upper body. The tan was even all over. He had an athlete’s build, with clearly delineated muscles, rounded shoulder caps and thick biceps. The cords and tendons in his forearms flexed as he squeezed his hands into fists.
“Sahara…please…I can’t stop you. Listen to your mind, think this through.”
“You think I haven’t imagined this, lying in my big lonely bed, these last three nights?” she asked him as she grabbed the end of his belt and slipped the buckle undone. “You think I haven’t played out every imaginable scenario? You think only guys have fantasies, Logan?”
He closed his eyes, a low groan her only answer.
She leaned in to bring her nose close to the dip at the base of his throat and breathed in his unique scent. She would know that scent anywhere. Then she pulled the belt out of its tabs and dropped it to the ground.
Logan’s pants settled further down around his hips, leaving his flat abdomen bare. There was a light dusting of hair leading down into the pants.
She licked her lips again. Her body was throbbing with anticipation and the tips of her breasts felt thick and sensitive against the gown she wore.
Sahara reached out for his trousers and slid the single button undone. Her heart was hammering now. Slowly she reached for the zipper.
Logan’s hands slapped upon her wrists and circled them, holding her tightly. Keeping her still.
Sahara looked up his face, keeping her throbbing body still. “Tell me you don’t want me,” she said.
“I don’t want you.”
“Liar.”
He groaned and her wrists were freed as his hands plunged into her hair, his arms were around her and she was held against him.
He was hot against her. Hard and hot. She could feel his need pulsing from him in waves. His mouth came down on hers and his tongue invaded her mouth with a forcefulness she knew she could not deny. She had ripped down the wall between them. But she had no intention of denying him anything. She opened herself up to him in every way possible and was glad.
He rained kisses on her lips, her face, holding her head between his hands. His head dipped lower and the heavy black lock brushed her flesh just before his mouth left a hot impression upon her chest.
She drew in a quivering breath in reaction, her head rolling back to give him better access. She found her own hands were plunged into his hair, encouraging him. Guiding him.
Logan supported her as he explored the exposed flesh above her robe with his tongue and teeth. She became aware of her robe. It had drifted open, exposing her to his gaze. She didn’t know if he had untied it or if her movements had loosened the belt. She didn’t care.
He grew still, his lips hovering over her. “God, you’re beautiful,” he said hoarsely and picked her up and put her upon the bed. The robe fell away from her and he grew still again, staring at her. She was naked beneath.
“Did you plan this?” he asked.
“No. Did you?”
“No. Then you sleep naked?”
“Yes.”
“That’s why you wanted to know about the sleeping arrangements.” He put his gun on the side table. He looked drugged, his eyes sleepy with arousal.
She reached for his trousers. “Take these off,” she commanded, fumbling with the zipper. Her fingers were thick and clumsy, throbbing with the same overpowering need that weakened all her limbs.
“You’re not going to spare me at all, are you?” he said, with a slow smile that promised all sorts of sensual delights.
“Not one inch of you,” she promised.
He slid the zipper undone and shed the rest of his cloth
ing and even in the low light, Sahara could see a long white scar running up the side of his thigh, with little slashes over it. Stitches, she realized. This was a soldier’s body.
She drew in another uneven breath as he straightened and his whole body was open to her gaze. He was lean and muscular. Taut in all the right places. He was fully erect and magnificent. Then he bent and delved into his trousers once more. He glanced at her as he ripped open the condom packet, and applied the condom. “I won’t put you at risk in any way, Sahara.” His voice was husky.
She swallowed. “Take me, Logan. Quickly, please.” He climbed onto the bed and slid over her. “If you command, this first time will be quick,” he assured her and kissed her nose, then her lips.
“This first time?” she questioned, her heart leaping. He lifted her thigh so that it was nestled around his hip and she felt him nudge her entrance.
“We have all night,” he reminded her and slid into her.
She could not help the cry that escaped her lips. The sensation of completeness, of being utterly filled, was so perfectly right, that the cry of astonishment was ripped from her.
He gripped her hand, his fingers entwining in hers. “Heaven,” he murmured, as he thrust within her.
Her senses were overwhelmed. She could feel the heavy under-swell of pleasure already building in her. “Oh! Oh, Logan!” she tried to warn him, writhing hard as the sensations built with astonishing speed.
“Yes,” he whispered.
The peak hit her almost violently, so swiftly did it arrive. She strained against him, her muscles clenching around him and far away she heard a woman cry and knew it was her making those abandoned sounds.
Tears collected in her eyes. She blinked them away and looked up at Logan. He had a small smile on his face.
“What?” she asked, deliciously aware of the fact that he was still buried deep inside her.
“That’s a first,” he said and kissed her.
“A first what?” she demanded when his lips lifted away.
He shook his head. “I’ll explain later,” and he gave a tiny thrust that made her catch her breath. Nerves began to tingle in response.