Protecting His Heart (A James Family Novel Book 1) Page 8
"I won't lie, Angelina, I am sort of glad we are here right now."
She peered up at him, suddenly not looking at all sleepy. It was a moment in time when he wished he could read minds because Angelina's expression was shuttered up tight, her eyes darkening with some sort of inner turmoil. He'd just about convinced himself that he should've kept his mouth shut when she finally spoke.
"I like it when you say my name. My real name, I mean. I am sort of glad we are here too. Aside from the almost dying part. I am not glad some hired gun courtesy of Salvatore Ricci is trying to take me out. But if I had to be stuck here with someone..." Her words trailed off as her cheeks flamed with embarrassment. Logan was starting to figure out that nerves caused her to become speechless. It was adorable, especially the way her blush deepened as he lightly traced the outline of her lips with his fingertip.
"I think I might kiss you now. You okay with that, Angelina Ferrara?"
She nodded slightly never taking her eyes from his. Even in the dim light of the bedroom, illuminated only by the lamp in the next room he could see in her eyes that she was very okay with it.
The second their lips touched, Logan's body erupted in flames. Every nerve in he had fired simultaneously and he wanted more. Pulling her closer, desperate for as much contact as possible, he sought to deepen the kiss, his tongue probing her lips for permission. Angelina responded with a fire all her own stirring his passion to almost unbearable levels. He pulled back, breaking contact and instantly felt cold and empty.
"Wow," he whispered against her lips.
"What's wrong?" Angelina whispered back, confusion in her voice.
"Absolutely nothing. Why would you think something was wrong?" His heart was still racing in his chest.
"Because, well, because you stopped."
How could he ever explain to her what he had just felt?
Rolling her onto her back so that he was poised above her, his hands lightly pinning her wrists against the mattress Logan stared down at her but she refused to meet his eyes.
"Angelina, look at me."
"It's okay, Logan. Really, it is. Salvatore always told me I was… I was terrible at that. I should have warned you."
"You loved a man who told you that you were a horrible kisser? What was wrong with that dimwitted Italian?"
Angelina looked confused.
Logan dropped his head and pressed his lips against hers once again. This time he ignored the flashes of light, the burning of his skin, and the lightheaded feeling that threatened to render him unconscious. This time he moved his lips against hers gently.
He let go of her wrists and she wrapped her arms around his neck. Wanting to touch her everywhere, feel her soft skin under his rough fingertips but not wanting to move too quickly, Logan knew he had to cool the passion between them enough to pull back without making her think he was repulsed by her again. Rubbing his hands up her sides, his fingers made their way to the arms that held him around the neck. As he backed away ever so slowly, peppering her cheeks and neck with tiny kisses, he loosened the hold she had on him until he was able to drop down on the bed beside her. Refusing to cut contact completely, however, Logan held her against his chest and buried his face in her thick hair. Even that simple action turned up the heat deep in his gut.
They stayed like that until her breathing returned to normal and the pounding of her heart against his chest settled into an even rhythm. Finally, Angelina spoke.
"Wow." She breathed huskily against his neck. The single word accompanied by her warm breath set his body on fire all over again.
"I know," he whispered against her hair.
She rubbed her hands against his chest, making tiny circles on the surface of the cotton fabric of the T-shirt he had thrown on while she was in the shower earlier. The simple movement turned his desire back up to full blast. He took several deep breaths, trying to get a hold of the foreign feelings before speaking again.
"As you know, I didn’t have the best example of how men should treat women while I was growing up. The only time my parents were ever intimate was when my father forced himself on my mother. Even at the age of twelve, I knew what was happening when she screamed out in fear and pain from their bedroom."
He dropped his head against her hair, breathing deeply as he fought to steady himself against the onslaught of emotion threatening to break free.
"You could never be like that. There isn't a violent bone in your body."
"You hardly know me. I'm the offspring of an abusive, rapist killer. Who knows what I am capable of?"
"Abuse, rape, murder—those are not inherited traits."
"Maybe. Maybe not. There is no denying that they are learned behaviors though. Children of abusive parents grow up to abuse their own children all the time. Abuse begets abuse, isn't that what they say?"
"Plenty of abused children grow up to be perfect, loving parents too, you know. It's a choice, Logan, and one you have obviously made to not follow in your father's footsteps. Cut yourself a break, would you?" She paused a moment. "Nothing ever felt like that with Salvatore."
He had to agree. He had kissed a few women in his day but none had elicited the sort of physical or emotional responses that Angelina fired up in him. Reaching up, he stroked her hair gently. It felt so good, so right, to be there, together in each other's arms despite the fact that they really barely knew each other. For the first time, the eternally cold feeling in his soul began to warm. He was almost grateful to his lieutenant for forcing him into that undercover gig. Logan smiled as he played with a lock of her hair. "I think I'm glad to hear you say that."
Angelina offered up a smile of her own as she curled up against him; her small, soft body sent a rush of warmth through his veins once again. Perhaps it was just the direness of the situation that had her there, close to him. Maybe she was as desperate for human contact as he was, and that was all there was to it. It was likely that their passion was fueled by the stress of the situation, but, if that was the case, he could live with it. He would never forget the feel of her lips under his own, the soft curve of her body against his as though they were made to fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. If only for tonight, it was enough to keep him going for a long time. He sighed against her hair, and she peered up at him out of eyes dark with emotion.
Fear?
Or was it desire? He preferred to think it was from the latter.
"Why don't you sleep for a little while? I'll keep an eye on things around here."
"Will you stay right here?" There was a hint of a plea in her voice that wasn't necessary; he would have done anything she asked of him.
"Nothing could drag me away."
He felt her smile against his T-shirt. "Good. I am pretty sleepy." She yawned again, and that was the last sound he heard from Angelina Ferrara that night.
13
Angelina
Angelina suddenly felt very alone. The odd, unexplainable feeling drew her awake as she squinted in the dim light trying to figure out where she was and why she was suddenly so cold.
All the events of the previous evening came back to her in a rush. Right up until the moments before she fell into the soundest sleep she had had in a very long time.
So, what had woken her from such a deep slumber?
Logan was gone.
Her cheeks flushed as she thought about Logan in the bed with her. She could almost feel his heat as she remembered how it had felt as he pressed his lips against hers. It was no wonder she felt so cold now, she thought as a shiver ran down her spine. Rubbing her hands up and down her arms for warmth, she listened for sounds of movement in the tiny cabin. Maybe Logan was asleep on the couch.
But he had promised to stay with her. And she knew he was a man of his word.
So, where was he?
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Angelina winced at the sharp pain that radiated up her torso. She had forgotten about the bruised ribs. As she stood gingerly, every muscle in her body ached i
n complaint. The warm shower and sound sleep had given her body time to tighten up. She groaned quietly as she rose to her feet.
Suddenly Logan was by her side, his arm around her waist, concern in his clear blue eyes. "It's still early, you should be asleep."
"You promised you'd stay." She sagged against him just a bit. It felt good to draw on someone else's strength for a change. Angelina had been on her own for so long. Alone for so very long.
"I did stay. I got up just a few minutes ago to check the perimeter and dig out some coffee and breakfast supplies. It's been a long time since dinner last night." He smiled down at her, eyes twinkling even in the dimness of early morning. The mention of food reminded her that her last meal had been lunch the day before. She was famished, evidenced by the loud growl that sounded from her stomach.
They both laughed as Angelina dropped back down onto the edge of the bed, her aching muscles begging her for relief.
"Not only am I apparently half starved"—she laughed again as her stomach let out another loud complaint at its empty state—"but I am aching all over. I guess the excitement of yesterday has finally caught up with me."
"You should try and grab another bit of rest while I whip up something to satisfy your hunger." Even as he spoke, she eyed him heatedly.
"Or at least fill my stomach," she said, raising one eyebrow.
Electricity arched between them. Angelina had a hunger deep in her gut that no breakfast burrito was going to satisfy. It intrigued her as much as frightened her the way her senses reeled when Logan was so close.
Angelina dropped her gaze, lingering on Logan's lips as she spoke. "I suppose I could probably stand to rest a little bit longer…"
"That's my girl." He leaned over and kissed her forehead, soft and gentle like her mother used to when she was a child, sick in bed with a fever. Only her mother's kiss didn't set her body on fire with desire the way Logan's did. Unable to fight the need, or not wanting to, Angelina reached up and wrapped her arms around Logan's neck, drawing him down to her until their lips nearly touched.
He held back for the briefest of moments. Angelina sensed his resistance right before she felt it weaken then disappear completely as he crushed his lips against hers.
Angelina had no idea how long they held each other, or how long they would have if they hadn't heard the noise.
"What was that?" she whispered against Logan's lips. His body had stiffened against hers so she knew he heard it too.
"I'm not sure." His whisper was barely discernible as he slowly pulled away from her. "Stay here while I check it out."
"Like hell. I'm coming with you. What if you need back up?"
A loud creak sounded. This time they knew exactly where it had come from—the tiny front porch. Someone was walking, slowly, across the creaky old boards.
"Someone's here. Did you tell anyone where we were?" Angelina couldn't even begin to hide the panic in her voice. She should have known Salvatore's lackey would find them. There was no way his men would let her get away. The men that he employed to do his dirty work were assassins; bloodhounds that could track anyone, make them disappear without even a ripple in the atmosphere. No one who loved her knew where she was or that she was even alive.
No one knew she was alive except Salvatore.
How had he found her? How did he know she was alive when the rest of her world thought she had perished in a firefight down at Chelsea Piers?
Another loud creak sounded and the quiet footsteps halted along with her thoughts of her family. Logan inched toward the bedroom door. From the doorway there would be a clear shot to the front door. It was exactly what Logan was thinking, she was certain, because he already had his Glock 9mm poised and ready to shoot whatever came through the cabin's main door.
Angelina still felt naked and helpless without her own gun. All the years she was a cop, she never went anywhere without her sidearm. The last year had been difficult for her. Going gun free left her feeling exposed and more like a victim than a trained police officer with a near perfect shot. She wasn't going to be a victim anymore. When this was over she was getting her gun out of the safety deposit box and going back to New York City.
In the meantime, Logan needed her to back him up. Angelina scanned the small room for something she could use as a weapon. The sturdy lamp on the bedside table caught her eye. Grabbing up the heavy fixture, she tossed the shade aside and yanked the cord from the wall receptacle.
Logan motioned Angelina to be quiet. A shadow fell against the curtained window of the front door. The porch boards creaked again as the doorknob shifted ever so subtly.
"We need to get you out of here." Logan's whisper was so faint she wasn't even sure he had spoken but she nodded in agreement.
"How?" she whispered back.
"The bedroom closet. There's a trap door in the floor. Follow the passageway to the end, I'll meet you there."
"Trapdoor? Secret passage?" There was no disguising the disbelief even in her whispered words.
The door handle shook a little harder making Angelina jump.
"Told you, it's my safe house. Now go. I'll be right behind you." He motioned toward the closet. Without another word, Angelina made her way silently across the room, her socks barely whispering against the wood. The door was easy to find. A flashlight hung on the wall above the trap door; she grabbed it and slipped down into the passageway.
Just as she dropped the door closed over her head, the sound of gunshots filled the air. Using the flashlight to guide her, Angelina followed the surprisingly large tunnel moving quickly away from the small cabin. With only Logan's heavy woolen socks to protect her feet, she kept an eye out for rocks or roots in the dirt. When the dirt tunnel suddenly became a hallway with cement floors and bricked walls Angelina wasn't sure what to think. There was definitely more to Logan James than she ever would have guessed.
Angelina hadn't gone far when she encountered the end of the hall. A ladder climbed the wall to a second trap door. Angelina climbed slowly, careful not to let her feet slip on the rungs. She glanced over her shoulder hoping to see Logan behind her, but the tunnel was empty and silent.
Pushing tentatively against the trap door above her head, she held her breath as it opened and fell to the floor. She waited, breath held, but heard nothing in response. Slowly raising her flashlight, Angelina passed it slowly around what appeared to be a small storage shed. Shovels, rakes, and other gardening tools lined one wall and carpentry tools hung neatly from pegs on another wall. Directly across from where she stood was a window and a door. Climbing from the tunnel, Angelina padded across the small space keeping her light low to the ground. Peering from the window, she could see that the small building was completely surrounded by trees except for Logan's Jeep that was parked right in front of it.
So, this was where he had hidden the vehicle. At least that explained why he had been gone for so long when he went to park it. She listened for sounds through the trees but heard nothing. There was no way to know if Logan was all right; she didn't have a clue where the cabin was, or where she was for that matter.
As she stood in the dim light made by the flashlight, a thumping from the tunnel caught her attention. Shutting off the flashlight, she reached for one of the shovels leaning against the wall with one hand and the doorknob with her other hand. Raising the shovel to her shoulder, Angelina slipped out the door and around the side of the shed hoping it was still dark enough in the early lights of dawn to hide her in the shadows.
The slam of the trap door against the floor made her jump but she held the shovel high, poised to slam it against her attacker's head if need be. If that wasn't Logan coming through that tunnel whoever did open that door was going to be in a world of hurt.
"Angelina!" a voice whispered through the dark. "Angelina, where are you! It's me! We've got to get out of here! Where are you?"
"Logan!" she whispered back. "I'm here!" Lowering the shovel, she made her way toward the direction of his voice. "Are you ok
ay? I heard gunshots!"
"I'm fine, but we really need to leave. Now. I fired, but I don't think I hit him." She felt his hands on her arms before her eyes made out his form in the dim light of dawn. "I bought us some time but if he goes back in the cabin, he will find the trap door. He knows we were there. He won't give up until he finds us."
Logan was already running toward the Jeep, dragging her along behind him. Angelina stumbled on a large tree root, slamming her big toe against the arch of wood. The impact left her sprawled on the damp, mossy smelling ground.
"Angelina!" Logan turned and scooped her up off the ground as though she weighed no more than a bag of feathers. Without missing a beat, he turned and carried her to the Jeep. As he opened the passenger door and placed her into the seat, a loud bang sounded next to her head.
"What the hell was that?" But she already knew. A large caliber slug was embedded in the frame above her head.
"Buckle up!" Logan shouted as he ran around to the other side of the Jeep and jumped into the driver's seat as two more slugs slammed into the side of the vehicle.
The engine roared to life as Angelina caught sight of a figure barreling out of the shed in a burst of gunfire. She shrank low in the seat, ignoring the searing pain in her foot and the sharp ache in her side.
Dirt and rocks filled the air as Logan slammed his foot against the gas pedal. The rear wheels spun before the Jeep lunged forward. Bullets followed them as Logan plowed through the underbrush leaving their attacker in a cloud of dirt and debris.
"I guess he found the tunnel," Angelina said as the Jeep raced through the woods.
"Are you all right? He didn't…"
"No, I'm not hit but if I had to guess, my big toe is looking pretty black and blue right now."
"We need to find somewhere to get you some shoes and clothes that actually fit. Not that you don't look totally adorable in my pajamas." He cocked a half grin in her direction. Even in the dim light of early morning, she saw the sparkle in his eye. This guy never seemed bothered by anything for long, not even hired assassins trying to kill them.