If only. “Maybe I want you to do it again.” Because they were alone, for the moment. And he was tired of pretending that he didn’t ache just looking at her. That her scent didn’t make him hard. That her voice—husky, soft—didn’t turn him on.
Everything about her got to him. Always had.
Logan was afraid that it always would.
Juliana glanced back over her shoulder at him. A guy could only take so much. She stood there looking so beautiful, reminding him of all the dreams he’d had—dreams that had started right there—and what, was he really not supposed to touch?
He wasn’t that strong.
He stalked toward her.
The bag he’d brought in—a bag of clothes that Gunner had prepared for them both—fell at his feet.
“Logan...” She held up her hands. “I said another agent should come. I told you—”
He wasn’t touching her, not yet. But he sure wanted to. “You’re a liar, Julie.” He knew—he’d been lying for so long that it was now easy to spot the lies that others told.
And he’d been watching her eyes when she lied to him. He said, “You don’t trust yourself around me. After all this time, you still want me.”
She backed up a step. “You’re guarding me. Nothing else. Got it? Nothing...”
“I remember what you taste like. For years after I left, I remembered...” She’d given him another taste just days ago. For a man who was starving, that taste had been bounty.
But Juliana had stiffened before him. There was a stark flash of pain in her eyes. “But you were the one who left, Logan. I was at the bus stop. Standing there for hours because I was so sure that you wouldn’t just abandon me. That you wouldn’t walk away and leave me there alone...”
He’d seen her at the bus stop. He’d had to go. She’d held a small black bag in her hands. Her gaze had swept the station. Left to right. A smile had trembled on her lips every time the station’s main doors swung open.
Eventually, the smile had faded. When the last train left, tears had been on her cheeks. She’d walked away then.
And I felt like my heart had been cut out.
She didn’t understand. There were some secrets that he couldn’t share.
Because the truth would hurt her too much.
“You always looked at me like I was some kind of hero.” A dangerous look, that. It had made him want to be more. Do more.
But the truth, the sad, sick truth, was that he’d never been a hero. He’d been a killer, even back then. And not good enough for her.
I walked away once. I can do this again.
So he didn’t kiss her, didn’t stroke her skin. He sucked in a breath, pulled her sweet scent into his lungs and moved back. “The bed is yours. I’ll take the couch.” He turned away.
A man could only resist for so long, and if he didn’t put some space between himself and the biggest temptation that he’d ever faced, Logan knew his control would shatter.
He could already feel the cracks.
* * *
“JULIANA JAMES has disappeared.”
Diego turned away from the window and its perfect view of the small city below. A city that still slept, for the moment. “That’s not what I wanted to hear.” He wasn’t paying his men for failure. He paid no one for failure.
Diego walked slowly toward Luis, deliberately keeping a faint grin on his face. Luis knew he didn’t accept failure.
Those who failed him paid with their lives.
And often the lives of their family members.
“One of those agents...he took her from the cementerio, stopped her from entering the car.”
Sí, he already knew this. He’d seen the video clips. The cameras had been rolling when the limo exploded, and Juliana James had been tossed back into the air.
The press had all wanted to be there when Senator James was laid to rest. Then when the car had exploded, the reporters had closed in even tighter.
Those reporters had done him a favor, though. They’d shown him the face of Juliana’s rescuer.
Diego strolled to his desk and picked up the photo that he’d had enlarged. The photo that his team had used to track down Juliana’s anonymous protector.
Only, the man wasn’t so anonymous any longer.
Logan Quinn. A SEAL. A SEAL who hadn’t been listed as officially in action for the past three years.
But I bet you are in action, hombre, under the radar, fighting dirty.
Diego could almost respect that. Almost. He didn’t actually respect anyone. What was the point?
“He’s the one we need to track.” Diego tapped the photo. This wasn’t some random agent. Just a man doing his job by protecting his charge. This was...more.
Diego knew how to get information out of people. Sometimes you used torture. Sometimes lies. With Juliana, he’d enjoyed a game of lies. The torture would have come, of course, but he hadn’t been ready to kill her.
He couldn’t kill her, not until he’d gotten the evidence back. A dead daughter wouldn’t have encouraged the senator to give up the secrets he’d stashed away. But a living daughter...one who spilled all her secrets so easily...she’d been a tool that he used.
Logan. Perhaps that had been her most important secret to reveal. He just hadn’t realized it at the time.
Everyone had a weakness. It was a lesson he’d learned so very long ago. Diego slanted a fast glance at Luis, not surprised to see the man shifting nervously. I know his weakness all too well.
The agent, Juliana—they both had weaknesses, too.
Weaknesses that I already understand.
Juliana had revealed so much to him in those hours spent in the darkness. Sometimes torture wasn’t the most effective means of getting what you wanted. Sometimes...sometimes you had to make your target trust you.
Only then could you go in for the kill.
“When we find Logan Quinn, we’ll find Juliana.” Simple. Diego dropped the photo. Weaknesses. They were so easy to exploit.
“You ever been in love, Juliana?” It had been a question he had to ask. If she loved, then she was weak. He could use her loved ones against her. So he’d waited, trying not to look eager, then Juliana had said...
“Once.” Pain had trembled in her voice. A longing for what couldn’t be. Juliana had been so sure that death waited for her. And it had. She’d drawn in a ragged breath and said, “But Logan didn’t love me back.”
Diego stared down at the picture. Tough SEALs weren’t supposed to show fear. Not any emotion. But...right there, on Logan Quinn’s face, Diego saw that the man had been afraid.
Not for himself.
For the woman he held so tightly. The woman he’d shielded with his own body when the car exploded, and Diego knew he was staring at—
Her Logan.
Ah, Juliana, I’m not so sure he didn’t love you back.
Diego picked up a red marker and circled the face of his target. “You have six hours to find Quinn.” The man wouldn’t have left the area with Juliana, not yet.
Not...yet.
Diego glanced back up at Luis. “You know what happens if you fail.”
Luis gave a grim nod. Then he grabbed for the photo and hurried toward the door.
“Your daughter...” Diego called after him softly. “She’s six now, isn’t she?”
Luis’s shoulders stiffened. “Sí.” More growl than anything else.
“I’ll have to make sure to send her an extra-special gift to celebrate her next birthday.”
Luis glanced back. Ah, there it was. The fear. Flashing in the man’s dark eyes. “Not necessary.” His Spanish accent thickened with the broken rasp of his voice. “You’ve done enough for her. For me.”
Diego’s gaze fell to the rough scars on Luis’s throat, then after a moment, he looked back up into the other man’s eyes. Let the tension stretch. Then he smiled. “She’s such a pretty little girl. So delicate. But then, children are always so fragile, aren’t they?”
Luis li
fted the photo. “Do you want him dead?”
Now the man was showing the proper motivation. Diego considered his question, then nodded. “Once you have Juliana in your custody, kill the agent. Do it in front of her.” The better to break her.
Luis’s fingers whitened around the photo. “Sí.”
Diego watched him walk away, satisfaction filling him. His resources were nearly limitless. With Diego’s power behind him, there would be no stopping Luis. Money could motivate anyone. The right targets taken out—the right information gained, and Luis could attack.
If someone else was trying to kill Juliana, then they’d just offer more to keep her alive. An insurance policy. Diego liked to have backup plans in place.
And as for the SEAL, they wouldn’t need others to kill him. Luis could send out near-instant checks on Quinn, find any property he had. Find his friends, his family.
Hunt the bastard.
Then kill him.
Luis might be a good father, but he was an even better killer.
Especially when the man was properly motivated...
Logan Quinn was already dead; the fool just didn’t know it.
Chapter Five
“It wasn’t Guerrero.”
Juliana blinked at the rough words and tried to push away the heavy darkness of sleep that covered her. She blinked a few more times, letting her eyes adjust to the faint light.
Where am I?
She glanced around. Saw the old, gleaming wood. Felt the lumpy couch beneath her.
Met Logan’s bright stare.
The cabin.
The memories flooded back. Fire. Death. A nightmare that she wouldn’t be waking up from anytime soon.
She pulled the blanket closer. “What? What are you talking about?”
He sat on the couch, his legs brushing her thighs. The move made her too aware of him, but then, she always felt too aware when he was close.
And he expected me to sleep in that bed upstairs? Oh, no. She wasn’t up for that kind of punishment. Too much pleasure. Too much pain waited up there.
She’d bunked on the couch. She wasn’t even sure where he’d gone.
“I got a call from Sydney.”
Juliana scrambled to a sitting position. Okay, maybe she was just trying to put some distance between her body and his.
Logan shook his head. “There’s a price on your head. Damn high.”
“We already knew that....”
The faint lines around his mouth deepened. “The money is being offered if you are taken in alive.”
“What?” No, that didn’t make any sense. “The car exploded. That’s not exactly a way guaranteed to keep me breathing.” Or Charles. Poor Charles. Dead in an instant, for no reason.
He ran a hand through his hair. “That hit...Sydney doesn’t think it was from Guerrero’s crew. The chatter she’s hearing all indicates that was from...someone else.”
Her heart slammed into her ribs. “You’re telling me that two people want me dead?” Could this get any worse for her?
Logan touched her. It could. The heat of his touch burned through her. His fingers wrapped around her arms. “Guerrero doesn’t want you dead. Syd is sure that he wants you brought in alive. And he’s willing to pay top dollar to make sure you arrive breathing.”
Her breath whispered out. “Because he thinks I have the evidence?”
A slow nod. Did he realize that his fingers were caressing her arms? Moving in small, light strokes against her skin. “I don’t have it,” she whispered. If she did, then maybe this could all end.
Logan could go back to his life.
She’d go back to hers.
“Syd is working with local law enforcement. They’re gonna find out who rigged the car.” He exhaled on a rough breath but didn’t release her. “The limo was swept before it left the senator’s house. It was cleared.”
But then it had still exploded.
She’d never forget the fury of the fire sweeping over her.
“I’ll be with you. Don’t worry. You’ll stay safe.”
Easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one being targeted by two killers. She stared into his eyes.
But...
But Logan had been targeted for death plenty of times before. She knew it. Death was his life. His job.
He was a survivor. A fighter.
If something were to happen, if one of those men hunting her came too close...
I don’t want to be helpless. “Teach me,” she said, pushing away the covers.
Logan blinked in surprise. “Uh, Julie...”
Under the blanket, she wore a loose T-shirt and a pair of jogging shorts. Not exactly sexy, but his gaze still dropped to her legs, lingered.
Her heartbeat kicked up a beat. “Teach me to fight, Logan.” He’d already taught her to make love years before.
Upstairs.
When the pleasure had hit her, she’d said that she loved him.
He’d never told her the same.
Maybe there was one thing he couldn’t lie about.
Juliana shoved those memories back into the box in her mind. “I want to be able to defend myself if...if—”
“When a bullet or a bomb is coming, there’s not much defense.”
No. “But when you’re trapped in some hellhole and the enemy is coming at you because he wants to torture information out of you—information that you don’t have—then being able to fight back matters.” She’d been helpless in Mexico. If something happened and Guerrero got her again... I won’t be helpless. “You can teach me some defensive moves. I know you can.”
His gaze wasn’t on her legs any longer. That too-intense stare raked her face.
“I need this,” she told him. She had to have some control, some power.
His nod was grim.
He rose, backing up.
The drumming of Juliana’s heartbeat echoed in her ears. She followed him into the opening in the middle of the room. Her toes curled over the old, faded rug.
Light flickered on when Logan bent toward the lamp at his right. Juliana finally started focusing enough to realize that Logan wore no shirt. Just a pair of loose sweatpants. His chest, ripped with muscles, was bare. Only...
Logan was sporting a tattoo now.
She hadn’t noticed the tattoo back in Mexico. But then, he’d kept his clothes on there. Thank goodness. Now it was tempting...all that bare flesh.
Juliana licked her lips. Down, girl.
Her gaze focused on the tattoo. The ink was black, dark, sliding up a few inches over his heart.
Forming a trident.
Why did that symbol look so sexy on him?
Why did she always have to want him?
“I use a mix of martial arts,” he told her as he came closer, positioning his body just a few inches from hers on that rug. “I can teach you a few moves to help with CQC.”
“Um, CQC?” No clue.
“Close-quarters combat.” His words were quiet. His body was too big. She was too aware of his every breath. “You want to be able to kill quickly, efficiently.”
She didn’t exactly want to kill, just stay alive. But Juliana nodded. She’d never heard him sound so cold before. Her hands pressed against her stomach. “And have you done that?”
He didn’t answer. She knew he had. Probably more times than he could count.
Not the boy you knew.
She wasn’t sure she’d ever known him.
“Can we...can we start easier? I mean...” I’m not ready to kill.
He must have read the truth in her eyes. A muscle jerked in his jaw. “When it comes down to it, if it’s your life or your attacker’s, you’ll be ready.” Then he moved in a flash, almost too fast for her to see, and in the next breath, Logan’s hand was around her throat. “If you hesitate, you can die.” His big fingers surrounded her neck, seemed to brand her flesh. She knew with one twist of his hand, he could kill her.
Logan stepped back. “But we’ll start easy, if that’s what you
want.”
Had his voice roughened? His eyes had hardened, his body seemed to have tensed.
“Go for your attacker’s weak spots. Always make them your targets.”
Juliana forced her own body to ease its stiffness.
“When you attack—” Logan was circling her now, making her nervous “—use the strongest part of your body.” He stood behind her, came closer. His body brushed against hers. His arm slid around her, and his fingers curled over her hand. “Use your fists.” He lifted her hand, punched out with it and turned her arm. “Your elbows.” He surrounded her. So big and solid behind her, his arms sweeping out.
He spun her around so that she faced him. His fingers still curled over her fist. He lifted her fist toward his neck. “Punch at your attacker’s throat. Hit hard, with every bit of strength that you have.”
His gaze blazed down at her. “You have to be ready to take your attacker out,” Logan said.
She tugged her hand. He didn’t let go. Her eyes narrowed. “What if I’m just trying to get away?”
Another spin, and her back was to him again. He’d freed her, and she stood there, her body too tense and aware.
“I’ll be the attacker,” he said.
Her mouth went dry.
“If I come at you from behind...” And he did. In a rush, he had her. His arms wrapped around her body and he hauled her back against him. Juliana struggled, twisting and straining forward, but she couldn’t get free of his hold. Her struggles just strained her against him.
He was getting turned on.
Juliana froze.
“Hunch your shoulders,” he told her, voice gruff. “Don’t try to lunge away. Curl in...”
She did, hunching her shoulders.
“Then drop.”
She slid out of his grasp. She twisted and turned back up. Her hand fisted, ready to punch.
“When you’re free, go for my eyes. My throat.” His lips twisted. “My groin.”
She wasn’t going there. Not then. With an effort, she kept her eyes up.
“Use your elbow or fist in a groin attack. Hard as you can hit...”
She managed a slow nod.
“But if I come at you straight on...” And he did. He advanced and those big hands came for her throat once more. His fingers wrapped around her neck. Not hurting her. Again, she felt the ghost of a caress against her skin. “Then shove your fingers into my eyes.”