I need that evidence. Another loose end. There were too many.
“I...don’t know! I swear—I don’t...”
His hands tightened around McLintock’s thin shoulders. “Did you know that Mario over there—” he tilted his head toward the guard “—has one thing that he’s particularly good at? Death. He can kill in a hundred different ways. He likes killing.”
McLintock was crying. Had been for a while now.
Did he realize that no matter what happened, he wouldn’t get out alive? Probably not. People always clung to hope so desperately. Even when they had no reason for that hope.
“Did you see anything...anyone suspicious at the cemetery?” Diego pressed. “You rode over in that limo. Who was there when you got in it?”
“Just...the driver, Charles...”
The man wouldn’t have killed himself.
“Cops were...there.” McLintock licked his lips. Tried to hold up his sagging head. “Federal...agents. I thought—I thought everything was...safe.”
No place was safe.
With the cops swarming around, though, the person who’d planted that bomb would have needed good
access—an “in” at the mansion.
“I rode...in the car, just...me, Juliana and...Susan...”
Susan. Diego paused, remembering a woman with sleek blond hair and too-sharp eyes. He’d seen her before, with the senator.
He’d seen Susan, but she’d never seen him.
Aaron’s lover. Would a lover kill a daughter?
Yes.
“When it was time to leave the cemetery, why weren’t you in the limo?” This was the important question. From what he’d learned, Juliana had been about to climb into the limo. What about the other passengers?
“Susan...Susan said she wasn’t...feeling well.” The words were soft. Weak. The blood loss was definitely taking its toll on the man. “She...asked me...stay with...her. Wanted to get...some air. Said we could get...ride back...with someone else....”
Diego smiled. “Was that so hard?”
Looking confused, McLintock actually tried to smile back even as his eyes flickered closed.
Diego fired a hard glance at Mario. “Find the woman—this Susan. Bring her in to me.”
McLintock drunkenly shook his head. “No. Susan...didn’t do this... She doesn’t know anything about—”
“A man’s lover always knows him better than anyone else.” That was why Diego made a habit of not leaving his lovers alive. They’d just betray him if they lived.
There was too much betrayal in the world.
His father had taught him that lesson early on. In Mexico, his father had amassed a fortune by dealing in the darkness. The law hadn’t applied to him. But...he’d always been so good to Diego. Given him a good life, nice clothes, toys. A home.
Diego had known his father was a dangerous man, but he’d trusted him. A boy trusted his father.
Until that night... He’d heard screams. He’d followed the cries. Found his mother dying, and his father—covered in her blood.
“She was selling me out!” His father had wiped the bloody blade of his knife on his pants. “Trying to make a deal with those Americans... She was going to take you away from me!”
His mother had looked like a beautiful angel. Lying on the ground, her white nightgown stained red.
“No one will take you from me!” his father had snarled. “They think they can use you against me, make me weak!”
His father had been so good to him before.
But Diego had seen the real man that night.
No one is good.
His father had stalked toward him with his knife. The knife he’d used to kill Diego’s mother. “No one can use you against me.”
And he’d known that his father had snapped. He’d cried as he looked at his mother and he’d realized— He’s going to kill me, too.
Only, Diego hadn’t been ready to die.
They’d fought. The knife had cut into Diego’s flesh. He still had the long scar on his stomach, a permanent reminder.
Trust no one. Especially not those close to you.
But Diego hadn’t died. At twelve, Diego had killed his father. Then when he’d walked out of that house, covered in blood, with the bodies of his mother and father behind him...
El Diablo.
His father’s men had given him a new name—and they’d feared him. Everyone had.
Diego realized that he was staring down at McLintock. The man was barely breathing, and the hope was almost painful to see in his bleary eyes.
Giving a slow nod, Diego stepped back. “You’ve given me the information that I needed.” And he was sure that Susan would be coming to join him very soon.
“You’ll let me go? Please?” The man’s voice was thready, so weak. No man should talk like that. Diego barely held his disgust in check. No man should beg. His father hadn’t begged.
“The knife,” Diego said as he opened his hand. Without any hesitation, Mario gave him the blade.
McLintock sighed raggedly. Did he think Diego was going to cut his bonds and let him go?
“You’re free,” Diego told him and drove the knife right into McLintock’s heart.
When he turned away from the body, he saw the fear...the respect...in Mario’s eyes.
El Diablo.
As long as there was fear, he didn’t need trust or loyalty.
Chapter Eight
The bathroom door opened, sending tendrils of steam drifting into the bedroom. Juliana walked out wrapped in a towel, with her wet hair sliding over her shoulders.
The woman was every fantasy he’d ever had. Just seeing her—arousal flooded through Logan, hardening his flesh for her.
She was looking down when she entered the bedroom, but after just an instant, she seemed to sense him. Juliana glanced up and froze.
Maybe he should be a gentleman and turn away while she dressed. Juliana was probably used to gentlemen. The guys who spoke to her so softly, held her hand and greeted her with flowers.
And didn’t constantly think about ripping her clothes away—or her towel—and taking her in a wild rush of lust and greedy need.
The gentleman role wasn’t for him.
So Logan kept watching and enjoying that world-class view.
Juliana’s eyes narrowed to dark slits, and even that seemed sexy. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all.” In fact, this was going on his highlight reel for later.
Her lips tightened. He liked her lips soft. Wet. Open. On his.
“Why are you in here, Logan?”
Because I want you. He’d had a taste before, and it had just left him craving more. Their time was limited. He knew that. As soon as the nightmare ended, Juliana would walk away and not look back.
Why couldn’t he have her just once more? Before the real world ripped them apart. He needed more memories to get him through the dark and bloody nights that would come.
When he was in hell, her memory got him through the fire.
But he pushed back the flames and said, “I thought you needed to know...Ben McLintock is missing.” Syd had called with the news just a few minutes before.
“Missing?”
“Uniforms were on him, stationed at his house.” Because anyone who’d worked so closely with the senator was getting extra attention from the government and the cops. “But it looks like he slipped away.” Or rather, deliberately ditched the eyes on him and vanished.
She shook her head. “Ben? Ben ran away?”
Innocent men don’t run. Logan bit the words back and tried to keep his gaze on her face. He shouldn’t have to say the words, anyway. Juliana would know the truth.
And sure enough, he saw the painful truth sink in for her. “The car bomb. You said...someone would have needed access to this house. The limo was here.”
Ben had been there. The guy had been given 24/7 access to everything the senator had.
Juliana’s hands lifted and she clutched t
he towel closer to her body. “You think...you think he set the car bomb.” Not a question.
“It’s a possibility.” One that Sydney was following up on with the authorities.
“He always seemed so nice.” Her words were dazed.
“Nice men can make perfect killers.” Because the nice veneer was so convincing. A way to fool others so you could get close.
He realized he was staring at the tops of her breasts. Logan cleared his throat. “We’ll find him.” The guy had either run on his own...or Guerrero had him. But either way, Logan’s team was tracking him now. Ben McLintock wasn’t going to just vanish. They wouldn’t let him.
He pulled in a breath and caught the scent of vanilla. The scent drifted from the open bathroom door. From Juliana. A sweet but sensual scent.
Logan spun around and headed for the door. “Get some sleep.” He sure as hell wouldn’t. He’d be thinking about her—what should have been.
“Logan.” Her voice stopped him at the door. His hand had lifted, and he fisted his fingers before slowly turning back to face her.
Juliana hadn’t moved from her spot just outside the bathroom. More steam drifted around her. Her skin gleamed, so smooth, so soft.
“You still look at me—” her chin lifted “—like you want—”
“To eat you alive.” Yeah, he knew how he looked. Starving. But Juliana had always made him that way. Desperate for what he wanted, for what he’d taken before.
Her hands were still at the top of the towel. “In Mexico, you told me that if I offered myself to you again...”
He couldn’t think about that night right then. Being close to her after all those years—he’d gone more than a little crazy.
“You said you’d take me,” she finished.
Logan didn’t speak.
“But I’ve changed my mind.”
His whole body had turned to stone.
“I’ve thought about what I want. What I don’t want.”
He couldn’t hear this.
“I know we don’t have forever. I know you’ll go back to—to wherever the next battle is, and I’ll go back to Biloxi when this is all over.”
Biloxi. Her home on the beach. He’d seen it before. After a battle that had taken two of his best friends. When he’d been broken and weak, he’d had to find her.
So he’d gone to her beach. He’d watched her from a distance, gotten stronger just from seeing her.
But he’d stayed in the shadows. After all, that was where he belonged.
“We don’t have forever,” Juliana said again, the words husky, “but we do have now.”
He took a step toward her and shook his head. No way had he just heard her say—
“But I’m not offering.”
Son of a—
“This time, I’m taking.” She dropped the towel. His mouth dried up. “I want you, and right now, I don’t care about the past or the future. Now—now is all that matters to me.”
She was all that mattered to him. Logan was already across the room. His hands were on her, greedy for the feel of her flesh. He pulled her against him, pressed his mouth to hers, thrust his tongue past her lips and tasted the paradise that waited.
The bed was steps away—steps that he didn’t remember taking. But they were falling, tumbling back, and he had her beneath him on the mattress.
He’d woken from hot, desperate dreams of her for years, and part of him wondered...just a dream?
Then her nails bit into his back. Her legs slid over his hips and she pulled him closer.
No dream ever felt this good.
His mouth was still on hers because he had to keep tasting her. His hands were stroking her body because he needed to feel her silken flesh.
But she wasn’t just lying passive beneath him. Her body arched against him, and Juliana caught the hem of his shirt—and then she yanked the shirt off him.
Their lips broke apart and the shirt went flying. A wild smile pulled at his lips. Only Juliana. She was always—
His.
He caressed the pert curve of her breast. The nipple was tight, flushed pink, and when he put his lips on her, she whispered his name.
And scored her nails down his back.
He should go slowly. Learn her body again, remember every inch.
But her scent was driving him out of his mind. She was pulling him closer. She was all he could feel. All he could breathe.
Everything.
He yanked down the zipper of his jeans. Found protection for them, then he positioned his aroused length at the delicate entrance of her sex.
Logan caught her hands and pushed them back against the mattress. Their fingers threaded together, their gazes locked.
The years fell away.
The only girl I ever loved.
“Logan...” She whispered his name. “I’ve missed you,” she confessed.
Then there was nothing else but her.
Logan pushed into her moist, hot core, driving deep and steady, fighting to hold on to his control when he just wanted to take and take and take. But he had to show her pleasure. He had to make sure she went as wild as he did.
Her legs wrapped around him. No hesitation. No fear.
She smiled up at him.
His hips pulled back, then he thrust deep. Her breath caught and the smile faded from her lips. The passion built between them, the desire deepening. The thrusts came faster, harder, and the control he’d held so tight began to shred.
The pleasure filled her eyes, making them seem to go blind. He’d never seen anything more beautiful than her. Nothing...no one...
Her climax trembled around him and she cried out in release. Her breaths came in quick gasps as her legs tightened around him.
The release hit Logan, not a wave or a rush but an avalanche that swept over him with a climax so powerful his body shuddered—and he held on to Juliana as tightly as he could.
And when his heartbeat eased its too-frantic pounding, he stared back into her eyes and realized just how dangerous she still was...to him.
* * *
THE SCENT OF BOOZE HUNG heavily in the air. Beer. Whiskey.
But even more than that...he could smell the blood.
“Dad?” Logan called out for him even as he pushed against the dashboard. It had fallen in on him, and he had to twist and heave his body in order to slide out from under the dash. He yanked at the seat belt, his hands wet with blood, and finally, finally, he was free.
His dad wasn’t.
Logan stared at the wreckage of the pickup. Twisted metal. Broken glass. And his father pinned behind the wheel, head craned at an unnatural angle.
His fingers trembled when he put them to his father’s throat. No pulse. No life. Nothing.
“Help...”
The barest of cries. So soft. A whisper. But he stiffened and whirled around.
That was when he saw the other car. A fancy ride, with a BMW decal on the front—and the entire driver’s side smashed inward.
“Help...” The cry came again, from inside that shattered wreck. A woman’s voice.
And Logan remembered...
The scream of tires. The roar of crunching metal.
The sound of death.
He tried to get to the woman. Cuts covered her pretty face. She was so pale. So small.
“It’s going to be all right,” he told her, reaching for her hand. “I’ll get you help.”
She looked at him, opening dazed eyes. “Ju...Juliana?”
Then her breath heaved.
She didn’t say anything else ever again.
* * *
LOGAN STOOD AT THE TOP of the stairs as the memories rolled over him. He’d fought to keep that dark night buried for so long, but here, in this place, with Juliana once more...the past had gotten to him.
Some nights could never be forgotten, some mistakes never erased.
The life he’d known had ended that night. Two people had died. He’d...
“What are you doing???
? Juliana’s soft voice came from the darkness behind him.
Logan stiffened. “Just doing a sweep.” Total BS. But he couldn’t face her yet. Not after what he’d done.
Back then and...now.
Juliana had fallen asleep in his arms. Sleep wouldn’t come so easily for him. Never had.
He’d searched the house. The agents and cops had already done plenty of sweeps. He’d done his share of searching before, too, but he’d had to look again.
Because there’d been something in Susan’s eyes...
The woman had wanted Juliana to go into Aaron’s room. Now Logan knew why.
He’d found the safe, conveniently left open. He’d seen the documents inside.
That safe had been empty just days before—well, empty except for the small gun. The senator had always seemed to be keeping guns close.
Too close.
Juliana hadn’t seen her father’s body after the suicide, but Logan had. He’d never forget the image.
But those files hadn’t been in the safe days before. He knew because he’d cracked it himself and made sure the senator hadn’t hidden any evidence inside. Since the safe had been empty then, it meant that someone else—Susan—had deliberately placed the files and the car-crash photos he’d discovered in that safe.
Susan knew what he’d done, what the senator had done.
And she’d wanted Juliana to find out, too.
Why? So she’d turn against me?
He couldn’t afford to have Juliana turn away from him, not now. It would be too dangerous for her.
“Dawn’s close,” she said, her voice husky. Sexy.
Dawn was coming. He could see the sky lightening behind the big picture windows. Faint hues of red were streaking through the darkness.
They’d have to get ready for her press conference soon. More plans. More traps.
Her fingers were on his back, tracing lightly over the scar that slid down near his spine. “What happened here?” she asked him softly.
Her touch was light, easy.
Logan swallowed and tried to keep his body from tensing. “A mission in the Middle East. Hostage rescue. It didn’t go...quite as planned.” He’d had to take the hit in order to protect the hostage. At the time, he’d barely felt the pain. And he’d killed in response to the attack—