Mr. Dangerously Sexy

2

ADDISON ROLLED HER shoulders as she settled in for the last leg of her journey. After driving for more than three hours, her muscles were desperate for a stretch, and she wanted something to eat that wasn’t birdseed masquerading as an energy bar. Thankfully, it wouldn’t be long until she reached her father’s cottage on Cayuga Lake. Then she could reheat the lasagna she’d prepared last night and crack open a bottle of wine. Her stomach grumbled at the thought of a hot meal.

“Just a little farther,” she said to her reflection in the rearview mirror. As if in response, her phone vibrated. “Again, Logan?”

He’d been calling every half hour or so since she’d made it through Newark. Despite ignoring him because her phone’s hands-free unit wasn’t hooked up, it had become clear he had a bee in his bonnet. That was Logan in a nutshell: dogged persistence.

Addison pulled over at a gas station and killed the engine so she could answer the phone. “Okay, crazy person. What’s going on?”

“Where are you?”

She pushed the door open and got out of the car. The air was balmy with summer warmth and she took the opportunity to get the blood flowing through her limbs. “I’m on my way to the cottage.”

“No, I mean specifically.” There was an urgency in his voice that made the hairs on her arms stand on end.

She told him the name of the gas station as she walked through its doors. Bright, harsh lighting made her squint and she was hit with a chilly blast of air-conditioning. If Logan was going to hold her up, she may as well grab a drink.

“What’s going on?” she asked as she opened the door to the refrigerator, stilling at the bellowing sound of a semi’s horn on the other end of the line. “Are you on the road?”

Silence.

“Logan Matthew Dane, you better tell me what the hell is going on right now.” She grabbed a Diet Coke and marched to the cashier. The man behind the counter eyed her warily as she handed the money over to him with what must have been a murderous look in her eyes. “If you intend on ruining my relaxing weekend I swear to God—”

“I saw the email.”

She groaned. “Then tell Rhys he’s fired. I mean it, turn around right now and go fire him.”

“That might be difficult.”

Addison wedged the phone between her ear and her shoulder so she could open her drink. “Why would that be difficult?”

“I’m already on the interstate.”

Goddammit. “You’re coming to the cottage?”

She walked out of the gas station, shaking her head. If Logan showed up tonight she would send him straight back home. Or at the very least, to the nearest town. Spending the weekend alone with Logan Dane was not in her plans.

“I’ll be there shortly,” he said. “And don’t take it out on Rhys. He did the right thing.”

“So the right thing is not listening to his boss when she gives him a direct order?” She leaned against her car and tipped her drink up to her lips. “I know for damn sure you wouldn’t let anyone pull that shit on you.”

Another car had driven into the gas station, and the guy gave Addison a sleazy once-over as he filled the tank of his red truck. Grimacing, she turned away.

“That’s beside the point. In this case, we need to take precautions.” Logan sighed. “I realize this isn’t what you had planned for the weekend. But the cottage is huge. You won’t even know I’m there. Unless of course you think my presence is too strong for you to ignore...”

“Your ego is too strong for me to ignore.”

“Ahh, come on. I’m looking out for you, Addi. I promised your dad—”

“I remember what you promised him. But you’re all overreacting. There is no threat. That email was sent days ago, and if Rhys hadn’t found it we’d be none the wiser.” She screwed the cap back onto her drink. “And I would be about to enjoy a peaceful weekend without having you around to bug me.”

“I won’t apologize for being careful when it comes to your well-being.”

She wanted to ask why he thought her well-being was his business. Or his responsibility. But she already knew the answer to that. Two years ago, during her father’s final hospital visit—the cancer eating away at his frail body—he’d passed the baton for her protection over to Logan. It was bad enough that he’d chosen Logan to fill his shoes as the head of Cobalt & Dane, but he hadn’t even trusted her to take care of herself.

“Don’t go into the cottage until I get there,” he added. “Wait in your car and keep the doors locked. I’m not far behind you.”

Gritting her teeth, she ended the call and slid into the driver’s seat. This weekend was going to be a freaking nightmare.

On the bright side, at least now she could count on Logan being at the retreat on time. A wicked smile curved on her lips. If he wanted to play protector all weekend, then she’d give him something productive to do. He hated spreadsheets with a passion, so she’d hand him some of the biannual forecasts to read. That should keep him busy.

She turned the engine over and flicked on her headlights. The sun had dropped significantly since she’d arrived at the gas station. It would be pitch-black soon, and the cottage would be dark. Secluded.

What if Logan and Rhys were right? A shiver raced the length of her spine.

“There’s no stalker, just like there’s no bogeyman,” she reminded herself. “There’s no zombies, no killer llamas, no Freddy Krueger and no...whatever the hell that thing was in Donnie Darko.”

But the words didn’t comfort her. A tiny seed of fear had been planted by the email, and now it was flourishing under Logan’s paranoia. She tapped the lock button and with a click, all four doors secured her inside. Shaking her head, she cursed herself for letting Logan get to her.

As she pulled onto the empty road leading toward the cottage, her lights swept across the horizon. Tall trees rushed past her windows in a blur of deep green. Growing up, the cottage had been her happy place—a haven where she’d spent time with her father and did all the things his busy schedule ordinarily excluded. Like fishing, inspecting butterflies and making homemade pizza.

Lights flashed in her rearview mirror as a car drove up behind her, pulling her out of her memories. The high beams shone in her eyes, blurring her vision.

“Inconsiderate moron,” she grumbled under her breath as she adjusted the mirror to redirect the glare.

The car behind her was close. Too close. Like one sneeze away from a rear-ender close.

“What the hell?” Addison glanced at her speedometer and confirmed that she was indeed driving at the limit. “Give a girl some space, would you? Jerk.”

With one lane of traffic in each direction, she couldn’t pull over to let the impatient person pass. But no cars appeared to be coming the other way, so why didn’t they simply overtake her? She pressed the accelerator down to put some space between them, but the other driver ate up the distance in seconds. The vehicle looked high, maybe a truck of some kind. But the lights were so blindingly bright that she couldn’t make out any specific details like color or model.

“Go around,” she said, motioning with her hand for the driver to pass her.

She reached for her phone and hit redial on Logan’s number. If he wasn’t too far behind—as he’d said—then maybe he could get the plate number.

“Miss me already?” Logan’s voice sounded far away on her phone’s tiny speakers.

“Have you passed the gas station yet? There’s this idiot tailgating me and I’m hoping you can get his plates.” She pressed harder on the accelerator and glanced anxiously as the needle on the speedometer climbed higher. “He’s making me nervous.”

“I should be caught up to you soon, but I haven’t passed the gas station yet. Drive carefully, okay?”

At that moment the truck pulled out beside her. “All good, looks like he’s going to overtake me. About freaking time.” She sighed. “No need to—”

A loud crunch cut her off and her car swerved violently. The gut-wrenching sound of metal on metal filled her ears and she had to yank the steering wheel to right the car. Her head snapped to the side in time to see the other vehicle coming back for seconds. She screamed. But it didn’t make a lick of difference. Seconds later, her Audi hit dirt on the side of the road.

“Logan!” she cried out.

Another sickening crunch boomed and the car shook with impact. Then her headlights bounced around in front of her and she was flying over the gravel.

* * *

“ADDISON!” LOGAN YELLED through his phone, but the sound of squealing tires drowned him out. Her frightened scream cut into him. “Hang in there, Addi! I’m right behind you.”

Except he wasn’t. The road was dark and long and he wasn’t exactly sure how much distance was between them.

“Logan, please—” Addison’s terrified voice was cut short when the call died.

“Fuck!” he roared and planted his foot down on the accelerator.

The sides of the road weren’t well illuminated and he still hadn’t found the gas station. This was the usual route she took to the cottage—they’d driven it many times together. He was sure of it. But what if she’d gone another way tonight? What if she’d tried to find a shortcut or avoid the toll roads?

What if, what if, what if...

If something happened to her... God help him. He’d tear down every building in the state until he figured out who’d done this to her.

His car shot through the darkness, well over the limit. It didn’t matter; nothing mattered except finding her. He eased off the gas as he rounded a corner.

“Come on, come on, come on,” he chanted.

His eyes scanned the next stretch of road. Then a faint glow grew in the distance. Signs displaying the price per gallon appeared as he approached and he checked the name. Yes, this was it. The gas station she’d mentioned earlier. She shouldn’t be too much farther along this road.

Pushing his car as hard as it would go, he reached for the glove compartment and flipped it open. His SIG P226 sat where he’d placed it earlier, the last resort he hoped never to need. But if anyone had brought harm to Addison, he wouldn’t hesitate to use it.

The gas station whizzed past and darkness stretched out before him. Flicking on his high beams, he scanned the side of the road on both sides. Nothing.

“Come on, dammit.” He slammed the steering wheel with the heel of his hand, tension tightening the muscles in his shoulders and arms. Making him ache. The blood drained from his knuckles, leaving them white.

His headlights brushed over the empty road and the trees. At a curve ahead, a glint of something red caught his attention. The dot grew bigger. A truck.

Easing off the accelerator, his eyes scanned the area and sure enough, a trail of skid marks exited the road not too far up. He frantically searched for Addison’s silver Audi, his heart in his mouth.

Her sporty little car wouldn’t have been able to stand up to this much bigger vehicle. What if she’d...?

“Stop that right fucking now,” he said to himself as he pulled over to the side of the road, a few feet behind the truck.

Freaking out wouldn’t help anyone. If there was one thing he’d learned in his years of dealing with dangerous situations, it was that you had to stay cool, calm and collected. In control. No matter what horrors you might see.

He forced down the wash of dark worries and killed the engine. His fingers wrapped around his gun. The cold, hard steel of his SIG reassured him, helped him to slip into work mode. He knew the grip, knew the weight, knew how it would behave. And he let the familiarity soothe him.

Taking a deep breath, he flipped the safety off.

The night air was still around him when he stepped out of his car, as though the weather sensed that something was about to go down. Not even a breeze whispered past. Moving quietly, he peered farther down the side of the road. That’s when he saw Addison’s car.

The silver Audi was covered in brutal scratches. The metal of the back door had been pushed in. Her taillight was shattered. Thankfully, it appeared that she hadn’t hit any of the trees that peppered the area. But the light from the road didn’t extend far down the dip, and he couldn’t see if she was in the car.

Moving quickly but soundlessly, he came around the red truck and checked the driver’s seat. Empty. He wasn’t about to stop and take notes, but a quick glance at the front of the car confirmed this person was driving on New York plates.

Logan scooted down the steep grass-covered ditch beside the road, balancing himself with his free hand. Something moved at the side of Addison’s car. A man was trying to open the driver’s side door.

He had two choices. Go in quietly and hope to sneak up on the guy, risking that the creep might get to Addison first. Or scare the shit out of him now and make sure he kept his grubby hands to himself. Logan couldn’t see Addison, but it appeared as though she’d locked the door per his instruction.

Good girl, Addi. I’m coming for you, just hang in there.

All of a sudden a loud snapping sound cut through the night. Shit! A branch crunched beneath his feet and the guy froze next to Addison’s door.

“Back away from the car,” Logan said calmly, the gun pointed straight forward. His voice carried across the clearing.

“I was just trying to help her, man.” The guy popped his hands up by his head and took a step back.

His face was covered by a hood, and despite the balmy weather, he had on long sleeves, gloves and jeans.

“You normally wear gloves in the summer?” Logan advanced, moving quicker now that he didn’t need to keep quiet.

The other man continued walking backward, heading toward the edge of the trees. He was going to run; Logan could feel it in his bones. But he still couldn’t tell if Addison was okay, and time wouldn’t allow him to have it both ways. He could check on her or he could go after the guy. Blindly shooting at a man wasn’t an option, even if Logan was positive that this guy was aiming to do anything but help her.

“Hold up,” he called out. “That’s far enough.”

The guy slowed down for a second, but his twitchy movements told Logan he wouldn’t stay put long. The car was close, but the damn darkness hid what was inside. If Addison was hurt, he needed to get to her. Now.

Then the guy turned and took off like a shot. Logan swore under his breath and broke into a sprint. Tall grass whipped past his legs, his shoes catching over a dip in the ground and tripping him up. Blood rushed in his ears, his heart pounding with adrenaline. All he could see was the back of the guy’s hoodie as he disappeared into the trees.

Logan skidded to a stop at the side of the Audi, his gun still pointing ahead. But the area was dark and he’d have no hope of catching the guy now. Leaning down to the passenger side window, he found Addison inside. Her tearstained face looked up at him, relief seeping into her features.

He’d found her. And now he wouldn’t be letting her out of his sight.

3

ADDISON’S HANDS TREMBLED so much that she struggled to open the door. The whole crazy event had happened in a blur. After the truck rammed her, the Audi had skidded off the road and hurtled down a small hill. Luckily, her brakes were in fine working order and she’d avoided crashing into the trees.

But being trapped in the car while some crazy person tried to wrench the door open was easily the most terrifying thing she’d ever experienced. He’d been hunting around for something to break the glass when Logan had showed up.

What if that lunatic had been able to get inside? How would you have defended yourself then?

The warm summer air filtered into the car as Addison finally got the door open. Then Logan’s hands were on her, helping her stand. He wrapped his arms around her so she could stay upright on her shaking legs. She melted against him, needing something solid and real to keep her from falling into a heap.

“Are you okay?” His hand brushed the hair from her forehead—but the gesture wasn’t tender. He was checking for injuries. His thumb snagged a sore spot and she winced.

“I don’t think anything is broken,” she said. “But I bumped my head.”

He checked her over as best he could in the dark. Her cheek throbbed and she was pretty sure there would be bruising on her chest from the seat belt. But she was in one piece, which was a whole lot better than what would have happened if her attacker had gotten inside her car.

“I should take you to the hospital,” Logan said, continuing to inspect her.

“No, I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? I’ll have to keep an eye on you in case there are signs of concussion.” He scanned her face. “If anything feels off, you have to tell me, okay?”

“Okay.” Her eyes darted to the dark patch of forest in front of her.

“He’s gone, Addi.”

That’s when she noticed the gun in his hand. “You didn’t shoot him?”

“I’m not going to open fire on the side of the road.” He looked down at her, less analytical this time. His rich brown eyes searched her face. “Not unless I need to. You know the rule.”

“Guns are the last resort,” she repeated her father’s words and pressed her hand to her head. Squeezing her eyes shut against the throbbing, her heart rate slowed. “But the bastard got away.”

“I wasn’t going to risk leaving you by yourself in the car in case you were hurt.” He pulled her to his chest and rested his chin on top of her head. “You come first, remember?”

Her stomach pitched. This was how he’d held her before all her boundaries turned to shit two years ago. That simple movement of tucking her head against the crook of his neck, cradling her like she was the most precious thing in the whole world, had obliterated her. Her hand came to his chest, her fingers curling into his soft cotton T-shirt.

For a moment they stood there, silent and unmoving. His hand cupped the back of her head, his warmth seeping into her. The furious beating of his heart vibrated under her fingertips. From the outside no one would know that he was worried—he hadn’t broken a sweat, hadn’t lost his cool. But she could feel his fear. His care.

“What the hell do we do now?” she asked, pushing away from him and bracing her hand against the damaged car. She couldn’t deal with Logan being kind to her, not knowing that soon she’d be leaving him. Distance was important right now. “I hit something pretty hard on the way down. I have no idea if I can drive this thing.”

Logan crouched and checked under the car. “It’s possible you’ve bent the axle. Let’s leave it here and I’ll call a tow truck when we get to the cottage.”

They grabbed her things and walked up to where Logan’s car sat on the side of the road. The red truck was still there, so he took a photo of the plate and tried the doors. Locked. Nothing helpful could be seen through the windows.

An hour later they were settled at the cottage. Logan had called a tow company for Addison’s car and had reported the incident to the police. Tomorrow they’d head to the local station and make a statement in person. But chances were, whoever had chased Addison off the road would go back to collect his vehicle. Logan couldn’t leave Addison alone at the cottage, however. And potentially putting her in harm’s way by taking her back to the scene wasn’t an option, either. So the pictures of the vehicle would have to do.

“He’ll probably clean it out and then dump it somewhere,” Logan said as they sat at the dining table eating her lasagna. He was in full-on work mode now. “It’ll turn up, but if he’s smart there won’t be much for the police to go on.”

“You really think it’s the guy who wrote me the email?” She poured them both another glass of wine, concentrating so that her hand didn’t shake.

“It would be a hell of a coincidence if it wasn’t. I mean, road rage happens, but if you say you didn’t do anything to antagonize the guy—”

“I didn’t.”

“Then why would some stranger run you off the road for no reason?” He shook his head, his brow furrowed. “No, it has to be him.”

“But how would he know that I was coming out to the cottage? That I’d be on that road?”

“How would he know your email address? He might be following you. He might have hacked into your laptop. It could be a number of things.” Logan forked a piece of lasagna into his mouth. “In any case, we’ll figure it out. No need to worry, we’re in this together.”

“I’m not worried,” she lied.

Maybe it was stupid, but she didn’t want Logan to suspect how much the incident had shaken her. Sometimes she wished she’d gone into the security side of the business like she’d wanted to—then she’d be better prepared for these kinds of incidents. Instead, she’d studied business because she had a natural talent for numbers and her father had said that’s what the company needed from her. What he needed from her. And she never could say no to him.

Still, she wondered if he’d only said that as another way of trying to protect her. In reality, all it had done was leave her without the respect of her staff.

She shoved the thoughts aside. The last thing she needed was to crumble now and prove to Logan that she couldn’t handle this situation.

“You have every right to be worried, Addi.” He looked up from his meal. “Most people would be in pieces after what you went through tonight.”

“I’m not most people. I’ve heard all of Dad’s stories and all of yours. I can deal with this.”

His eyes softened and a ghost of a smile passed over his full lips. “I am well aware of that.”

“I don’t want you to think that you need to be my bodyguard or anything.” She pushed her food around on her plate for a moment before abandoning it and reaching for her wine. “I’ll be okay.”

He looked like he was about to argue, but instead he rubbed the back of his neck. Whenever Logan was trying to figure something out, he kneaded that particular spot. It was the tell that’d allowed her to kick his butt in poker for years. For some reason, it made her belly flip watching his strong hands work at the muscle like that.

Her mind wouldn’t let her forget how it felt to have those hands on her. Caressing her. Holding her. Dragging her into position. He was the perfect blend of rough and smooth—hard and soft—and he walked the line between them with delicious ease.

“I made a promise and I intend to keep it.” He leaned back in his chair, his eyes smoothing over her. Filling her with liquid heat.

“What if I don’t want you hanging around and being my shadow?” Or worse, what if she did want it?

“Worried it might upset the guys you date?” He raised a brow. “I can be discreet.”

It would have pleased her to no end to tell him that guys were lining up at her door, but the truth was far lonelier than that. Most of the men she met were terrified of Logan—he was like an overprotective big brother. Except he happened to be a crack shot and had a military background to boot.

When she started dating someone, he’d make a point to “drop in” and introduce himself to the guy. Not once had he outright told someone to stay away from her, but then again her dates didn’t usually stick around long enough for her to find out if Logan would take that next step.

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” she said drily.

“What? You won’t even know I’m there.”

“Are you going to sit in the corner and watch while I take a guy to bed?” It was clear from the way his jaw twitched that her words had made their mark. “What? You moved on after we slept together, so why shouldn’t I?”

“I told you I regretted what happened.” His voice was tight. Brittle.

“It’s too late for regrets.” She carved off a small piece of lasagna and forked it into her mouth. It tasted of nothing. “And you’re not my father, Logan. You don’t get to vet my dates.”

“I know that.”

“And you can’t keep watch over me twenty-four/seven.”

He folded his arms over his chest, the muscles curving outward. Defined and honed to perfection. “I will be until we figure out who’s after you.”

He wore a fitted black T-shirt—his uniform—and damn, it looked so good her mouth watered. Ugh, why couldn’t she be attracted to normal men who didn’t have hero complexes?

But as much as she was loath to admit it, he made her feel safer than anyone else on the face of the earth.

“You can’t have it both ways.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His eyes flashed. “I’m trying to do the right thing.”

“By chasing off any chance I have of finding a decent man? Anyone who gets close to me is treated like a potential terrorist. Then they quickly decide I’m not worth the trouble.”

Frustration bubbled up within her; the argument was well-worn between them. Normally she was able to tell Logan to go to hell and get on with her day. But not now, not after he’d been proven right. Not after she’d almost been...

The reality of her situation suddenly crashed over her like a wave. Someone had run her off the road; they’d tried to get her out of her car. She’d been trapped like an animal in a cage of her own making, defenseless. Vulnerable.

If he hadn’t shown up, God only knew what might have happened to her.

“You are worth the trouble, Addi.” He raked a hand through his longish hair. “Fuck, I’m sorry that I’m such a thorn in your side. But I can’t not take care of you...”

For a moment she studied him. It was easy to see why women went crazy over Logan—the overlong, light brown hair, heavy brows and strong jaw made him look dangerous. Powerful. His hands were rough and calloused; his muscles were rock solid. There wasn’t anything polished about him. Not even running a successful company for two years had smoothed his sharp edges.

There was a rawness to him, a brutal honesty, and an unfiltered, unbridled passion for what he believed in.

“I guess I could assign one of my guys to look out for you. One of them might be a little less...” A crease formed between his brows. “Intense.”

“You wouldn’t trust someone else to do what you think is your job,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s the problem. You’re trying to take responsibility for me when I’m telling you that I’m a grown woman. I want to live my life.”

“But you never know what kind of shit people are hiding. All I’m saying is that you need to do some due diligence, especially now.” He paused. “You’re too trusting.”

She gulped the remainder of her wine, feeling a slight sense of relief as the alcohol wore down her nervous energy. “You’ve got to be kidding me. After the way you treated me, I don’t trust anyone.”

He stood suddenly, pushing the dining chair back so hard it almost toppled over. “I said I was sorry, Addison. Christ, what more can I do? I crossed a line, I realized my mistake, and I made a promise that it would never happen again.”

And by “crossed a line” of course he meant that he’d given her the greatest night in her very sheltered existence. The moment Logan had walked into her father’s office as a damaged, angry twenty-two-year-old, she’d been in love. Her sixteen-year-old self had fallen hard and fast.

But Logan had been Mr. Morals when it came to her—except for that one night. But then he’d moved on so quickly that she’d gotten whiplash from it.

“We had sex, Logan. You make it sound like you forced me.” She pushed her food away, her stomach twisting itself into knots. “I wanted it. God, how I wanted it—”

* * *

“STOP.” HE HELD up a hand like she was some misbehaving toddler and instantly regretted it.

But hearing her talk about how she’d wanted him was more than he could take. It was more than his resolve could take. Walking out of Addison’s apartment the morning after they’d been together had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. Ignoring her hurt had damn near killed him. But it had been the right thing to do. Because he’d promised her father he would care for her.

Not fuck her.

Fire flashed in her dark eyes. “Am I that hideous that you can’t even stand being reminded of what we did?”

Hideous? “You’re out of your mind if you think I wasn’t right there with you.”

“Then why did you run out of there like a bat out of hell the next morning?” Her hands twisted in her lap.

The red lacquer on her nails glinted in the light. It was the only remaining sign of the hyperpolished image she presented at the office. She must have changed for the drive—gone were the sexy heels and stockings, gone were the pearl earrings and the tight skirt. Instead, she wore a pair of soft jeans that hugged her small hips and long legs. A loose white T-shirt revealed a hint of a pink bra beneath.

Addison had a thing for lingerie, and now so did he.

Before her, he’d been happy to have a girl as she’d been made—without a stitch of clothing. But Addison had taught him to appreciate lace and silk and those damn fiddly clasps that held her stockings up. All in one night, she’d changed him. Changed what he liked, what he craved.

What he wanted for his future.

“It was a mistake,” he said, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat.

It was the best mistake he’d ever made.

“Why?” she demanded. “We were two consenting adults. We used protection and we didn’t do it in public. Our having sex hardly threw the world off its axis.”

Except it did—his world, anyway. “You’re like family to me—”

“Oh, spare me.” She pushed up from her chair. “We’re not related, thank God.”

What the hell was he supposed to say? That he walked away because he was terrified of screwing things up? Or that something might happen to her and that he’d flip out and lose his grip on reality? Again.

Or that when he was with her he couldn’t seem to control himself and that scared the hell out of him?

“The reason I walked away had nothing to do with my attraction to you.” He rolled his shoulders back and tried to dispel the tension in his limbs. “That wasn’t a factor.”