Protecting His Heart (A James Family Novel Book 1) Page 5

  "Look, Mr. Smith, I appreciate you hauling me out of that ditch and I am really sorry about your Jeep—I'll pay for the damage—but this isn't your problem. Believe me, you don't want to be involved in this—with me. It's too much for a mere history teacher to take on."

  It had become his problem the minute someone aimed a semi-automatic weapon at him, despite the fact that he wanted her to believe his cover. "I don't believe you are who you say you are any more than you believe me. You said if I got you to safety you'd tell me why someone just tried to exterminate my vehicle. When we get there, I expect you to talk."

  8

  Angelina

  "Where are you really taking me?" Lucy demanded.

  "Some place secure. A safe house." Logan kept his eyes straight ahead as they barreled down the deserted highway. He drove like a pro. There was no mistaking the eagle sharp instincts and the impeccable training.

  "I knew it. You are a cop." Logan didn't respond. That was all she needed. The man had cop written all over him and her instincts weren't that rusty.

  Lucy watched out the window as they traveled farther away from town. Logan wanted answers. Answers she wasn't sure she could give without putting him in danger too. And she was in some real danger here. Getting away from Sal's hit man twice was going to anger the hired gun something fierce. He would come after her with a vengeance—offing her in front of a school full of teenage girls if he had to in order to get the job done.

  And then there was Logan Smith. What were the chances that he would just happen by where she had gone off the road? No history teacher she had ever met could drive like he could. And who carried around rappelling gear or had a fully functional winch on their vehicle? Most teachers she knew at St. Mary's were academics, not physical and adventurous. He had an eye like an investigator. He was lying about who he was as much as she was. That man was undercover and there was no way he could deny it.

  But why was he undercover in the first place?

  Who did he work for?

  Maybe it was because of her? Had someone known before she did that there was a hit out on her? But if he were there for her, then why wouldn't he break cover and admit it? Her secrets were surely falling out of the bag left and right. Under the circumstances, he should come clean. Unless he wasn't there for her. It could be the whole thing was a coincidence. Maybe it was just blind luck that he happened to be around when Sal's man tried to take her out.

  "Are you undercover because of me?" she blurted out in to the tense silence of the vehicle.

  "I'm not undercover. I am a new teacher."

  "Like hell you are. You are no more a teacher than I am."

  He stayed silent as they drove. To Lucy, his silence was as much of an admission as the actual words would have been. A few moments later, the Jeep turned sharply down a dirt road, well hidden among trees and brush. As they bounced along over the deep ruts, Lucy held her side tightly, biting her lip against the agony of each bump.

  Logan reached over and touched her arm lightly. "I'm sorry, you must be in a lot of pain. As soon as we get to the cabin, I'll fix you up as best I can. We can't risk another trip to the hospital tonight."

  She clenched her teeth, but it wasn't against any sort of pain. Logan's touch on her arm had ignited an unexpected flame in her gut that replaced the pain from her bruised side.

  "I told you I didn't want to go to a hospital in the first place," she managd to say against the unexpected rush of desire his touch had set in motion. She didn't want to sound ungrateful, but if he had listened to her in the first place they could have avoided the whole shooting thing, no doubt.

  "Well, it wasn't exactly my idea of a good time either. Getting shot at definitely wasn't on my to-do list this evening," he replied. He tried to sound annoyed but Lucy caught the twitch of a smile at the corner of his lip in the reflection of the headlights on the trees around them.

  The Jeep rounded a sharp corner and slipped down another stretch of land that couldn't even be considered a road. Lucy grunted each time they slammed into another rut. Her head throbbed and all her muscles had tightened up. She was eternally grateful when the headlamps illuminated a small, rustic looking cabin with tiny front porch and a single window sporting a thick layer of grime and spider webs.

  "I thought you said we were going to a safe house?" she mumbled.

  "It is safe and it is a house. Sort of. It's an old hunting cabin. It's small, and from the outside it looks like a shack, but no one will find us here. Why don't you get out and go inside? There is a key taped to the bottom of that old wood bucket over there by the door. I'm going to pull the Jeep around back and secure the perimeter."

  "Secure the perimeter? And you still expect me to believe you are a spoiled pretty boy who has a penchant for short plaid skirts?"

  Logan just chuckled. "We'll talk when I get inside."

  Lucy opened the door and lowered herself slowly to the ground. Every muscle in her body ached. She could feel Logan watch her as she made her way to the front porch of the shack and felt around for the key. Once she had it in hand, he pulled around the small building leaving her lost in the dark.

  The key turned easily. She pushed the door open and felt for a switch on the wall. As her fingers made contact with a dimmer switch, soft light bathed the interior of the cabin surprising her with what she saw. The outside may have been run down and old but the inside had been completely remodeled with a state of the art kitchenette, a flat screen television mounted on one wall, and modern, comfortable looking furniture. A door stood open across the small room. Lucy secured the front door and made her way to the second room. Inside was a queen-size bed with an intricate patchwork quilt spread over it. A small bathroom with a walk-in shower was attached to the space. The colors were all earth tones, warm and welcoming, the way a cabin in the woods ought to be. The wood paneled walls were stained dark, giving the small space a cozy feel.

  "Small shack?" she muttered as she walked through the place. "I wish my house was as much a shack as this one."

  Lucy fought the overwhelming urge to lie down on the bed and go to sleep for at least a week. Her body ached. Perhaps a shower would be better first. If she got in the shower before Logan returned she could hopefully put off the conversation he wanted to have for that much longer. Liking the idea more with every step across the room, it took her less than a minute to strip off her clothes and step under the steaming hot water. Avoiding the injured area on her forehead, Lucy washed her hair and body as slowly and deliberately as she could, taking up as much time as she could. She stood under the hot spray until the water ran icy cold, and she had no choice but to exit. Wrapping her body in an oversized towel that was surprisingly soft and fluffy, she stepped out of the bathroom and right into Logan's arms.

  "Oh!"

  "Oh is right," Logan muttered huskily as he looked down at her. She hadn't realized just how tall he was when she was wearing her work heels. Logan had to be at least six feet to her five feet five. He was stronger, more muscular than she had expected as well. The heat of his touch as he held her in his arms warmed her blood and made her knees go weak. They stood staring at each other, electrcity arcing between them for several moments before he suddenly stepped back. Her body chilled instantly where his warmth had been. Logan's gaze roamed over her towel-covered body, pausing briefly at her chest that was rising and falling with her rapid breathing before settling lazily on her lips. The hunger in his eyes was fleeting, so much so she wasn't certain she had seen it at all. Heat flushed her cheeks as she realized she was only wearing a towel.

  "I… I'm sorry. I didn't expect you to be standing there," Lucy said, staring at the floor so as to avoide eye contact.

  Logan cleared his throat, his expression becoming all business. "I got worried when you didn't answer me. I came to make sure you didn't pass out in the shower. I still think you might have a concussion." He reached up and gently probed the area around the wound on her head, pushing a damp strand of thick blonde hair out o
f the way as he did so. His touch elicited a shiver down her spine that she hoped he didn't notice. It had to be the head wound affecting her in odd ways. Perhaps she bruised the temporal lobe, damaging her inhibitions.

  "There's a bump forming." His voice was slightly husky again. "That's good. If the lump comes out it won't go in. That's what my aunt always says."

  "And so no lump on the brain, right?" That was good news, although it shot her brain damage theory straight into the ground.

  "Exactly." He suddenly looked as uncomfortable as she felt. "How're those ribs feeling?"

  "They only hurt when I move." The words were meant to be lighthearted but the tone of her voice belied the truth. Her ribs hurt like hell.

  "I should take a look, one might be broken."

  "Oh, are you a doctor now?" Lucy hadn't meant to sound so nasty but the words just sort of fell out of her mouth. Logan made her feel so defensive, when he wasn't firing off every one of her nerve endings or making her blood boil in her veins, that is. Damn him. Of all the men she had be stuck with in a cabin in the woods, it had to be one that disturbed the careful balance she had worked so hard to achieve in the last year.

  Logan ignored the edge to her words. Instead, he smiled. "Nope, not a doctor. Just a lot of experience with injuries. A little tape and some pain killers might do you good."

  "I suppose you might be right. I do ache all over. I just have to get dressed first." She eyed the torn blouse and dirty skirt she had dropped on the floor. Logan caught the direction of her glance.

  "If you look in the bureau you'll find some things you can put on. They won't fit you well but they are clean and warm. Much more comfortable than those things." He nodded in the direction of her clothes. "Go ahead and get dressed then meet me in the other room. We'll patch you up and then have that talk."

  So, he hadn't forgotten. She had half hoped that the sight of her in a towel would have distracted him. No such luck. Logan smiled at her and turned on his heel exiting the small room quickly. Lucy dropped down on to the edge of the bed and laid her head in her hands. She was suddenly so very exhausted. All she wanted was her own bed and some cozy flannel pajamas, neither of which were readily available.

  She had to get some clothes on before Logan returned. Running into his arms practically naked had been awkward to say the least. Not that it wasn't pleasant; she was almost ashamed at how good it actually felt. Maybe it was all the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She had nearly died twice in as many hours. Logan had been her rescuer, her protector. It was normal to feel some sort of gratification toward him, wasn't it?

  Pulling open a drawer, she found neatly folded piles of men's pajama bottoms. No tops, just bottoms. There were several pairs in silk, a couple in satin, and the pile she liked best—flannel. They weren't hers, but they would work. She needed warm and comforting. She also needed to call Mulholland and give him a heads up on what had happened. Maybe Logan would let her borrow his cell phone.

  Grabbing up a blue and green plaid pair, Lucy slipped the pants on and had to laugh at how long the legs were. It took several cuffs to get them up over the top of her feet. The pants looked ridiculous but at least she would be clothed when she saw Logan again. A long sleeved, oatmeal colored waffle-knit tee from the next drawer down covered her enough to almost hide the fact that she had no bra on. The idea of strapping herself into something so unforgiving made her body hurt almost unbearably.

  Returning to the bathroom, she found a comb and ran it through her thick, tangled hair. When there was absolutely nothing else left for Lucy to do to delay the inevitable, she opened the bedroom door and stepped into the main room.

  9

  Logan

  Logan paced the small cabin. His body was tense with unexpected energy. Having Lucy in his arms, wearing nothing more than a towel, had been a shock to his system. Emotions and sensations, long since buried deep, had broken free and flooded his body and his mind with an overwhelming physical response to her nearness. Never before in his adult life had he felt such a physical draw to a woman.

  He shook his head as though the motion could remove the image of Lucy's damp curves wrapped tightly in that towel. How had they gone from squabbling over a parking place to being shot at to—what had just happened? She annoyed him, someone had blown a big hole in the tailgate of his Jeep, and Logan could still feel the moist heat of her in his arms.

  "Damn it!"

  "I'm sorry about your car. I'll pay for the damage."

  Logan stopped pacing and turned to look at her, noting the slight pink that colored her otherwise pale features and the wary look in her eyes.

  "Honestly, Lucy, that is the last thing I am worried about right at this moment." He looked her up and down, noticing how his oversized shirt and baggy pants seemed to skim her frame in just the right way. He had never seen anything so sexy in all his life.

  She caught his eye and blushed even more deeply. "I must look ridiculous. You are a little taller than I am." She waved the long sleeves of her top in the air to make her point.

  They both laughed nervously.

  "You look fine, Lucy. Alive. In one piece. The rest is incidental." He surprised himself with the feeling in his words. He didn't know this woman at all. So, why was he breathing so deeply at the thought of what could have happened if he hadn't gotten them away from that hospital parking lot?

  "Well, alive is one thing. Living is another," Lucy mumbled so softly he wasn't sure he had heard her correctly.

  "Come on over here and let me take a look at those ribs." He opened the first aid kit on the coffee table and patted the cushion of the futon style couch.

  Lucy joined Logan in front of the oversized stone fireplace. For just a moment, he imagined the two of them there, Lucy back in her towel, with a fire blazing and the room filled with candles. The image struck a chord deep in his gut. He hoped she didn't notice the bulge in his khakis that always seemed to show up when she was around.

  "I don't think this head wound is going to require stitches. Now that you have washed away all the dried blood and dirt, it looks like it's just a scratch. There is a nasty looking bruise forming though."

  "I know, I saw it in the bathroom mirror. That knot looks like someone smacked me with a two-by-four."

  Logan tilted his head to the side, studying her thoughtfully. "Did someone?"

  She looked confused. "Did someone what?"

  "Hit you with a two-by-four?"

  "Are you serious?"

  "Hmmm… no, of course not. I just thought I would ask since it appears someone ran you off the road and fired a very large semi-automatic weapon at you. I was just considering the possibility that other things may have happened before I pulled you out of that ravine."

  He reached for her side, gently probing the injured area with his long fingers. Lucy jumped at the contact.

  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you."

  "You didn't," she said too quickly. "I mean, not too much anyway."

  Logan nodded slightly as he slowly lifted the hem of the oversized shirt to peer at her torso. Her breathing seemed to speed up as his fingers gently probed the bruised tissue. His own heart raced in his chest. He was absolutely certain she could hear it slamming against his chest wall as he felt for any breaks or other soft tissue injury.

  "How did you hurt your side? It's an unusual place for an injury under the circumstances."

  "I tried to climb back up the slope but I slipped and fell and rolled against a tree." She sounded breathless as she spoke.

  "Well, I don't feel anything broken but you should probably see a doctor tomorrow."

  He let go of her top, watching it fall back past her hips and feeling slightly ashamed at the feeling of disappointment he had as the creamy olive skin of her abdomen disappeared from view.

  What the heck was wrong with him tonight?

  It had to be the adrenaline making him feel crazy things. She wasn't even his type. She was obstinate, unfriendly, and kind of annoying in the
way she insisted he stay away from her parking spot. Not to mention being with her almost got him killed and pretty much did his Jeep in.

  "What is this place, anyway?" she asked, glancing around at the sparse yet almost elegant furnishings. "It's too nice to be department owned and way too fancy to be an actual hunting cabin."

  "It's my safe house."

  "Safe house?" She tossed him an odd look.

  He nodded. "I bought it about ten years ago. I come here when I want to escape the world, forget about work, life, you know."

  "What would a pretty boy history teacher need to escape from?"

  "Sit down, Lucy. Let's have that talk now."

  A shadow darkened her expression but she sat gingerly at one end of the couch. Logan settled next to her, almost close enough for their knees to touch. Heat smoldered in his abdomen with her nearness. She shifted ever so slightly, removing any chance of contact between their bodies and then looked up at him, eyes clouded with emotion. It was obvious that she was afraid of something. He only hoped it wasn't him. Maybe she would feel better knowing who he really was. There was little chance of him finding out who she really was if he didn't spill the beans first.

  "You were right, I am not actually a teacher. I am a cop, working undercover at St. Mary's."

  "I knew it!" she exclaimed. Her glee at finding him out disappeared almost instantly. Her next words were barely a whisper. "You were there because of me, weren't you?"

  He looked confused. "Why? Should I have been?"

  Lucy stared back at him. "No."

  "That's wasn't very convincing, Ms. Taylor."

  She looked away for minute before she spoke again. "You may have noticed someone wants me dead."

  "The thought did cross my mind," Logan joked halfheartedly.

  "I'm a cop too. At least, I was."

  "Are you undercover?" He recalled that this was her second year at St. Mary's. That was a long time for an undercover job but he had heard of longer.