This Heart for Hire Read online

  There had been no reason to rebuff. He hadn’t come to her last night. She’d lain awake, waiting, but the knock never came.

  It was what she wanted, what she claimed she wanted, and yet, it had left her worse off than the night of lovemaking that had come before. Tense, agitated, she was having trouble maintaining her cool. She was at a loss as to just what to think about anything right now.

  Jessica forced herself to focus on the real reason she was in his life and he in hers.

  Pushing his hands gently aside as he began yet another fruitless attempt at the tie, she did the honors herself. “I’d feel better if you weren’t going at all. You can’t continue being a moving target, Logan.”

  “Maybe we’ll flush him out tonight.”

  Jessica bit back the protest that she didn’t want to flush anyone out, tonight or any other night. She just wanted him to remain safe. And breathing, even if it wasn’t with her.

  Finished, she stepped back and pretended to admire her handiwork.

  “Besides—” he turned to look at her “—I don’t do hiding very well, Jessi. And don’t forget, I have you to protect me.”

  How could she forget? It was on her mind constantly. His welfare, his life, was in her hands. She frowned impatiently. “I’d do a better job of protecting you if you listened to me.”

  The shrug was deliberately careless to hide just how much he did care. “Can’t have everything, Jessi.”

  The words struck her as ironic. “You used to think you could have it all.”

  Their eyes met for a long, silent moment. “I grew up and realized I couldn’t.” He glanced into the mirror. The tie was perfect. “Nice job,” he commented. “For some reason I couldn’t seem to get it straight tonight.” His smile was sensual, teasing as he aimed it at her. “Must be all those butterflies over having you so close that were throwing me off.”

  As if she’d ever believe that. “You were born flirting and don’t even have so much as a nodding acquaintance with a butterfly.”

  Ordinarily her comment would have amused him. But this time, because he’d spent the night longing for her, it jarred rather than amused. Doing “the right thing” could be damn hard sometimes. But he wanted to be absolutely fair to her.

  Logan crooked his finger beneath her chin. Raising it, he brushed his lips against hers.

  “Don’t bet the farm on that one, Jess.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a bewildered look enter her eyes as he reached for his jacket. He shrugged into it. “By the way, I invited your father and your future stepmother to the party. The organization needs every donation it can get,” he explained, anticipating her protest. Then, when it didn’t come, he looked at her. “Are you all right with that?”

  “Yes.” The reply was automatic, but then she paused to actually give it some thought. The answer surprised her. “Yes, I really am. I’m glad he’s happy.” She’d never wished either of her parents ill. All she’d ever wanted was to have a little of them in her life, but that time had passed. “I just don’t know which surprises me more, that he’s settling down, or that he actually wanted to introduce me to her.”

  “He wants your approval.”

  She still had trouble buying into the idea. “Yeah, right.”

  Logan picked up his wallet from the bureau and slipped it into his pocket. “No, seriously, I really think he does. There was no other reason for him to be that nervous when we got together.”

  Jessica thought of the lunch. She was accustomed to a fine, polished edge to her father. It had been missing yesterday. The realization coaxed a smile from her. “He was nervous, wasn’t he?”

  That had been obvious to Logan from the moment he’d seen her father. “Like a man who had put all his money on a risky stock and was watching the market activity for all he was worth.” He looked at her. “Maybe you should give him another chance.”

  His attempt to bring her together with her father made Jessica look at Logan in a completely new light. She had no idea he cared about things like that.

  Tugging on a silver shawl that seemed constructed entirely out of silver cobwebs, Jessica turned to leave. She realized that she had fallen under very close scrutiny and admittedly enjoyed it before she raised a quizzical eyebrow in his direction. There was something on his mind.

  “If you don’t mind my asking, where are you planning on hiding your weapon? The one with the trigger,” Logan added with a wide grin. All of her looked like a lethal weapon, he thought. An extremely sexy, overwhelming lethal weapon.

  “In my purse.” She held the small clutch purse up. It hardly looked big enough to accommodate the pistol, but she had bought it with exactly that in mind. And then, prompted by the look on his face, she added, “Don’t tempt me to use it.”

  He swept his keys up into his hand. “Those weren’t the kind of fireworks I had in mind.”

  No, but they were the ones she was worried about.

  “It’s not too late to change your mind about this,” she said.

  And as much as she found herself enjoying the nostalgic trip he kept taking her on into the world she used to frequent, she really wished he would change his mind and remain home. It was easier guarding him on a one-to-one basis than trying to have eyes in the back of her head.

  “Yes, it is,” he contradicted. “My name’s on the invitations.”

  It hadn’t occurred to her that was why he was so insistent about attending. She stared at him. “You’re hosting the fund-raiser?”

  Amused at her reaction, Logan presented his arm to her. “None other.”

  The Logan she knew had always been generous with his money, but his time was another matter. That belonged to him exclusively and he shared it with race tracks and people who had the same interests he did. Charities had never numbered among them.

  “Since when?” she wanted to know.

  He didn’t feel like going into it, or his motives. He’d never liked explaining himself, even when he came off well.

  Logan glanced at his watch. “One half hour from now. Shall we?”

  Knowing it would do no good to press, Jessica inclined her head and slipped her arm through his.

  The packed ballroom made Jessica uneasy. Time and again she’d found herself in scenes just like this one before she’d discovered a purpose for herself. But it had never been while she was responsible for someone’s safety.

  She recognized a number of people. It didn’t help quell the edgy adrenaline she felt pumping through her veins. There were others, many others, she didn’t know.

  She would be glad when the night was finally over. This having to be constantly on her toes was wearing.

  Though women swarmed around Logan like the proverbial bees to honey, he managed to remain within easy range throughout the evening. And periodically, whenever he found himself free, he would drop back to be with her, easily cutting into any conversation she might be having with someone as if he’d been there the entire time. Being charming was not an effort for him, it was a way of life and it suited him like a second skin.

  Jessica had to admit that she was surprised at how cooperative he was being. He didn’t even dance with anyone else, except for Beatrice Champion and she was near eighty. To all the other women, he’d begged off because of “duties.”

  That in itself was an overwhelming surprise. Even at the height of their affair, she’d had to share him with others at parties.

  Watching him, she thoughtfully ran her fingertips along the brim of her empty wineglass, the one glass she’d allowed herself all evening.

  The new-and-improved Logan Buchanan, she thought, remembering the way he’d referred to himself. Maybe he was, at that, at least in some respects.

  Logan worked the room like a pro, extracting promises of huge donations to the charity of the evening : The Abused Children Fund. Her father’s promissory note was one of the largest of the evening, matched only by the one Logan had put in himself as “seed” money.

  She had to admit she was mor
e than a little impressed.

  She wasn’t there to be impressed, she reminded herself. She was there to watch over him. Nothing more. Jessica set down the glass on a nearby table.

  So far it all looked harmless. Everyone was having a good time, some more than others, judging by the wine consumption. There didn’t seem to be any threats coming from any quarter.

  She wondered if this was destined to be one of those mysteries that would remain unsolved or if someone would tip their hand soon. The vote wasn’t that far away and at least from what she had noted these past few days, Logan was networking successfully and making headway m his proposal.

  The song the orchestra began playing penetrated. Longing flooded her as she remembered. “Forever, My Love.” It was the first song they had ever danced to. He’d softly sung along with it.

  She tried unsuccessfully to block the sentimental feelings that were seeping through her.

  Logan came up behind her. “Care to dance? They’re playing our song.”

  She turned around, wondering if he remembered or if he was just being flippant. One look in his eyes told her he remembered.

  “You can case the joint while you’re dancing,” he added, taking her hands in his. “Is that the right terminology?”

  Moving on pure instinct, she rested her head against his shoulder, letting the music take her away. The music and Logan. “Only if you’re a character in a Sam Spade mystery.” She smiled. “Are you trying to make me feel at home?”

  He felt her smile against his chest. Felt her smile seep into his body. Yearning swept over him quickly. How much longer did he have to remain here, he wondered. How much longer before he could hold her again. Before he could have her again?

  “Me, Jessi?” Logan murmured against the top of her head. “I’m just the guy who’s trying to make you feel, period.”

  Jessica lifted her head to look at him “Logan,” she chided softly with far less conviction than she knew was warranted. “Don’t start.”

  “Too late for that, Jessi.” He looked into her eyes, searching for a sign that she agreed. “We’ve already started.”

  The thing of it was, she knew he was right.

  She tried not to be obvious as she shifted her shoulders slightly. Major kinks had settled in, setting up housekeeping. She could feel fingers of tension all the way up and down the base of her neck.

  It felt as if they’d been at the party forever. Not only had they been the first to arrive, but apparently they were going to be the last to leave, she noted. Logan was insisting on personally saying good-night to each couple who had attended.

  Though she felt taxed, she realized she was also proud of him. An odd feeling to have about a man she kept trying to convince herself didn’t matter anymore.

  Her feet were beginning to ache, as well. Now there was a first. She could Usually spend hours in high heels. She had spent hours in her high heels, she realized with an amused smile.

  “Are you sure you’re not planning on running for public office?” she whispered against his ear after he’d bidden yet another couple good-night. She watched the man weave beside his wife, who was half his size. Jessica stifled a yawn. She’d been alert and on her toes for a nonstop six hours and it had taken its toll. All she wanted was to have her head hit a pillow. Any pillow.

  “You’ll be the first to know,,” Logan promised. “Make sure you’re the one behind the wheel, Alison,” he called after the woman. In response, the woman held up her car keys, jingling them.

  Satisfied, Logan slipped his hand on Jessica’s shoulder, turning her so that she faced the entrance. “That about does it,” he announced, relieved to finally have the evening over. Good cause or not, he was tired. “We’re free to go home.”

  “That has a very good sound to it,” she answered before she realized her mistake. He’d said “home” and she had absently agreed with the description. But it wasn’t home, not to her. Only to him. She was quick to change the subject. “I must say I never thought of you as chairing a fund-raiser.”

  He shrugged it off the way he did any compliment. He wasn’t in it for the recognition. Only the final result. “It’s a good cause,” was all he said. His commitment to it was left unspoken. She looked tired, he thought. Maybe tonight he’d content himself just to watch her sleep. If he could convince her to share a bed with him. “Ready to go?”

  She exhaled. It spoke volumes. “More than ready.”

  Logan laughed as he walked with her to the entrance. “I guess racing you to the car is out of the question.”

  “Race?” she hooted.

  She was lucky she wasn’t falling flat on her face. How did he do it? She knew by a comment he’d made that he’d gotten as little sleep as she had last night, yet he looked ready to go another ten hours.

  “Logan, I’m so tired I can hardly stand up.”

  “Well then, there’s a quick remedy for that.” He scooped her up in his arms, pushing the door open with his shoulder.

  Jessica laughed in surprised protest, her arms automatically going around his neck. “No, Logan, I didn’t mean—put me down.”

  He never got the chance to answer her. The crack of a discharging gun ripped the night apart as the bullet that was fired ripped his flesh. A second one went whistling by, barely missing Jessica.

  Stunned, Logan felt his arm suddenly become slack as the sensation exploding in his shoulder registered. Blood colored his jacket.

  Jessica found herself tumbling to the ground. Swallowing a gasp, she grabbed for Logan’s arm and pulled him down with her.

  Chapter 13

  “Stay down.”

  Jessica shouted the order at Logan as she pulled out her pistol. She glanced quickly over her shoulder to see if he was listening. The discolored jacket sleeve, darkened with blood, leaped out at her. She felt her heart immediately constrict, then beginning pounding. Hard.

  “Omigod, you’re hurt.”

  The pain hadn’t found him yet. There was only surprise and an odd numbness following in the wake of the red-hot sensation that had peeled him apart. What he did feel was rage. Complete, unbridled rage.

  It wasn’t rage because someone could actually be shooting at him. He could handle that. What he couldn’t handle was that because of some unbalanced idiot with a gun and a half-baked grudge, Jessica’s life was being threatened. If anything happened to her because of him, Logan knew he’d be confined to a living hell for the rest of his existence on earth.

  “It’s nothing.”

  The dismissal was bitten off. Before Jessica could think to stop him, he snatched the gun from her hand and snapped up to his feet. Logan’s eyes challenged the dark, searching, but there was no one there.

  No one he could see. “Come out, damn you, come out and face me.”

  The screech of tires peeling off in the distance was the only sound he heard in reply.

  Jessica was so angry, so terrified for him, she had to bite back a host of scathing adjectives about the condition of his brain. On her feet, she yanked him hard, throwing him off balance. It was the only way she managed to pull him to the side of the building.

  “What the—?”

  Seething, she reclaimed her gun. “Are you out of your damn mind?” she demanded hotly. “Are you actively trying to get yourself killed? This maniac is shooting at you.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” he shouted back.

  She scanned the area again, assuring herself that Logan’s would-be assailant had gotten away again. Disgusted, more with herself for failing him than with Logan, Jessica stopped him before he could turn from her. “Here, let me see that.”

  Logan tried to shrug her away, but the motion was not without its price. Pain shot through him. He tried not to wince.

  She’d never been shot herself. but she could well imagine what it had to feel like. Vividly.

  “Don’t play Apache with me,” Jessica upbraided him. “It’s a gunshot wound—it hurts. You’re allowed to grimace and curse.”


  As quickly, as gently as she was able, she examined the wound. Her heart wrenched at the sight of the blood oozing from it. “Looks like it grazed your skin.” Putting her hand in his pocket, she fished out his handkerchief and pressed it to his wound. “Hold this in place. It’ll have to do until they put a bandage on it in the hospital. I don’t think it’s going to need stitches.”

  She saw the look in his eyes and knew exactly what he was thinking. “We’re going to the hospital,” she insisted. “I’m not going to argue with you about this.”

  “I’m not going to argue with you, Jessi.” His tone was so calm, so quiet, she knew he was up to something. She didn’t have long to wait to find out what. “How many lives could you stand having on your conscience, Jessi? I don’t think I could handle any.”

  She saw someone look out the back door of the banquet hall, stare in their direction and then disappear inside the building again. So much for any useful witnesses. “What are you talking about, Logan?”

  He pushed harder against the wound, hoping he wouldn’t pass out. He was feeling oddly light-headed right now.

  “He said that if we went to the police, he’d retaliate by putting a bomb in one of the buildings. There’s no way we can know where. If we go to the emergency room, you know they’re bound by law to report any gunshot wounds they treat to the police.” He let out a long, slow breath, trying to hold on to his focus. “I don’t think we’re dealing with anyone who’s bluffing anymore.”

  Jessica frowned. Neither did she. And as much as she wanted to deny it, Logan was making sense. The emergency room was out.

  “All right, since it is a clean wound, maybe I can take care of you.” Placing herself beneath his good arm, she drew it over her shoulder and slipped her arm around Logan’s back to help support him. “But the first sign of infection, bomb or no bomb, you’re going in. Do I make myself clear?”