Explosive Engagement (6 page)

“Us?” Garek snarled the word. “You and Stacy are not an ‘us.’” And her brother reached for her, clasping her arm to pull her from Logan’s grasp.

Cujo growled in protest, echoing the sound Logan had made low in his throat. His arm tightened around her shoulders, holding her against his side. And the dog stepped in front of him to protect them both from men he had never accepted as alpha males or friends.

“That damn dog likes you?” Milek asked, amused. “That dog doesn’t like anybody but Stacy.”

“That’s not true...” But it absolutely was or at least had been.

Logan reached his free hand down and patted the dog’s head. “It’s obviously not true,” he said. “But then not much of what you guys say is true.”

“You self-righteous hypocrite!” Garek stepped closer, but the dog growled louder and bared his teeth completely. So the man stepped back.

“He’s not,” Stacy defended Logan. She believed that Logan thought he’d been doing the right thing, that he’d been getting justice for his father.

“This is ridiculous,” Garek said. “I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you but it sure isn’t love.”

Milek studied them through narrowed eyes as if he was beginning to have some doubts that their engagement was fake. Maybe he’d remembered accusing her of having a crush on Logan during their father’s trial. “Garek, you’re not exactly an expert on love since you’ve never been in it.”

But Milek had? She shrugged off thoughts of her brother’s love life. She had enough problems with her own. Life. Not love life. She wasn’t in love—no matter what she wanted her brothers to believe.

Garek shuddered. “And I never will be. That’s one mistake
I
never intend to make.” He turned back toward Stacy with an unspoken plea softening his gaze. “Don’t make that mistake either, sis.”

He only pulled out
sis
when he really wanted to get to her. It brought her back to when they were kids. And what he and Milek had done to protect her...

“It’s too late,” she told him. She wasn’t in love but she’d committed to Mrs. Payne’s plan to protect Logan and to protect her brothers from themselves.

“It is too late,” Logan said. “And it’s been a long day for Stacy.”

“Because of you!” Garek said. “Because
you
crashed our dad’s funeral—because
you
put her in danger.”

“He didn’t put me in danger,” Stacy said. But Garek had raised doubts in her mind...and she’d already had enough of those.

“It’s been a long day,” Logan repeated as if no one else had spoken. “So I’m taking my fiancée home with me.”

Garek reached for her arm again until Cujo growled, and he pulled back. “Don’t do this, Stace. Don’t you dare go anywhere with him!”

But Logan was already leading her toward the SUV parked at the curb. Was her brother right? Was Logan actually the one who had put her in danger both at the cemetery and at her apartment?

What would happen when she was alone with him? Would he finally exact his revenge? Would he kill her?

Chapter Six

Stacy Kozminski was dead...to the world. She had fallen asleep in Logan’s SUV on the way to his house. So after checking to make certain there was no bomb on his kitchen table, he returned to his vehicle, unlocked it and opened the passenger door.

Only Cujo lifted his head from the console. Stacy didn’t stir. Her upper body slumped over the seat belt, and her hair had fallen over her face. Fear clutched his heart in a tight fist. Had someone gotten to her without his realizing it? No shot had penetrated the windshield or side glass, though.

And the doors had still been locked. No one had broken inside. They probably wouldn’t have dared with Cujo guarding her.

Logan pushed her back against the seat and released the safety belt. Then he brushed her hair off her face and slid his fingers over her throat. Her pulse leaped beneath his fingertips as if she recognized his touch.

Or maybe she’d mistaken him for someone else. For the
friend
who didn’t get along with Cujo.
Boyfriend?

“Good dog,” he praised the canine—for protecting her. Then he slid one arm underneath her knees and the other behind her back and lifted her from the seat. Just as she had against the safety belt, she slumped forward—against him. Her face settled into the crook of his neck and shoulder. She murmured and sighed, her breath tickling his throat and causing his skin to heat.

And other parts of his body tensed...

How could this woman affect him like this? They had spent the past fifteen years hating each other...or at least he’d thought he’d hated her.

And not for the reason she and her brothers thought. He didn’t blame them for what their father had done. He blamed them for not accepting it and for continuing to support a killer. And he resented her blaming him for her father’s sentence and for making certain Patek Kozminski served it. Logan had only wanted justice for his father.

She’d thought he’d wanted vengeance. And she hated him even more than he’d thought he’d hated her. Then she shifted in his arms, burrowing even closer against him—almost into him. But she probably didn’t know it was him.

She slept deeply, her heavy breaths steadily whispering against his throat. Even when he shifted her in his arms in order to shoulder open the door to his house, she didn’t awaken. Or even murmur again.

Neither did his whistle awaken her when he called for Cujo to jump out of the SUV and join them inside the house. With the dog following closely behind them, Logan passed through the foyer and then the living room, sparing the couch only a glance before dismissing it. It was leather and cold. Even if he’d taken the time to put blankets on it, she deserved better than a couch after the hellish day she’d had.

But he didn’t have any guest rooms. The second bedroom of the two-bedroom ranch house held his home office. So he carried her to his bed, which was soft and warm with plaid flannel sheets and a comforter. When he laid her onto the mattress, she hooked her arm around his neck, pulling him down with her.

After the long day he’d had, he should have been as exhausted as she was. He should have been willing to burrow into the blankets like she was and sleep. But if he laid down beside her gorgeous body, the last thing on his mind was going to be sleep. And some damn bodyguard he’d prove to be if he didn’t stay awake to protect her from whoever meant her harm.

Harm? The bomb proved whoever was after her didn’t want her just hurt; he wanted her dead.

Logan’s arms tightened for a moment, holding her close. He didn’t want her dead. He wanted her...which scared him more than someone shooting at him. He forced himself to release her and pull away. But he couldn’t get far enough away to stop wanting her—not without compromising her safety.

He had to focus on protecting her. A cold shower might cool his reaction to having Stacy Kozminski in his house—in his bed. It might also stop his shoulder from throbbing and force him to think with his brain instead of another part of his body.

And it wasn’t as if he was leaving her unprotected while he showered. She wasn’t alone in the bed any longer. Cujo had climbed onto the mattress beside her. His furry body was tense and his ears up and alert for any sound of an intruder.

Eager to be rid of the tuxedo he hated wearing, he stripped off the jacket and then the shirt and left them in a trail that led to the master bathroom. But he held tight to the holster he’d removed with the shirt and placed his weapon on the granite counter within reach of the shower. He didn’t drop his pants and boxers until he closed the pocket door and shut out the sight of Stacy sleeping in his bed.

He was too tempted to kick Cujo out of bed and take his place next to his mistress. His body throbbed, and it wasn’t just his shoulder. A bandage covered the stitches, but he wasn’t supposed to get it wet. He turned on the shower and stepped beneath the spray before the water had the chance to warm. It struck his skin like needles, nipping into his sensitive flesh. And he welcomed the pain.

Heck, maybe he was a masochist. Maybe that was why he had become attracted to a woman who hated him. And if he actually agreed to her and his mother’s crazy plan to get married, it was destined to end badly. Painfully...

For him.

He glanced down at the bandage on his shoulder. Blood and water saturated the gauze and tape, and the wound beneath the bandage throbbed. But that pain was nothing in comparison to what she could do to him...

Was that why she proposed? To get close enough to him that she could hurt him herself? He should have told her brothers the truth since he doubted it mattered to them whether he was their sister’s fiancé. They still wanted him dead. But maybe by posing as her fiancé, he could get close enough to them to find evidence like the gun or get them to confess to the attempts on his life.

A menacing growl emanated from the bedroom. The sound raised more goose bumps on Logan’s flesh than the icy water had. He shut off the faucet and listened for whatever Cujo had heard. An engine rumbled in the driveway. And another...

A couple of vehicles had driven up to his house. How many people were after him and Stacy?

He grabbed a towel and hastily wrapped it around his hips before reaching for his holster and drawing his weapon. He slid open the pocket door to find Cujo standing on his bed, his hair bristling as he stood guard over his mistress. Curled up like a kitten, Stacy was still sleeping soundly.

“Good dog,” Logan murmured before slipping from the room to head to the front door and the driveway. Before he reached it, the door opened, so he cocked his gun.

“Don’t shoot,” his brother said with his hands lifted above his head.

“Then don’t sneak up on a man who’s been getting shot at,” he cautioned Parker. Just in case he might be tempted to use it on his twin, he set his weapon on the butcher-block counter of the island situated between the open kitchen and living-room area. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s that whole getting-shot-at thing,” Parker said. “I’m checking up on you.” He glanced back toward Logan’s SUV—he must have closed the passenger door. “Making sure everything’s all right...”

If he’d only been acting out of concern as a brother or even out of professional concern as a bodyguard, why hadn’t he come alone? Their sister and their top security expert, Candace Baker, had come along with him in their own vehicles. As the women joined Parker inside his house, Logan asked, “What’s really going on?”

“You tell us,” Parker said.

“I wish I knew,” he admitted. He had been so convinced Stacy was behind the attempts on his life. And maybe she was—maybe that was why she’d proposed. Or maybe she’d proposed to save him, as she’d said. But who was going to save her? Because that bomb was proof that he wasn’t the only one someone wanted dead...

Parker expelled a ragged sigh of relief. “I knew Mom was messing with us.”

“Mom doesn’t
mess
with us,” Nikki hotly defended her. She had no idea just how manipulative—albeit with good intentions—their mother could be.

Her face tense, Candace curtly explained, “She told us that you’re marrying Stacy Kozminski.”

He had thought news of the bomb at Stacy’s apartment might have brought them here as backup. But now he realized why they’d really shown up.

Parker shook his head. “She’s gotta be messing with us. That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”

It was crazy. And Logan couldn’t believe his mother’s audacity in announcing his fake engagement to everyone. He really should call both her and Stacy liars. A marriage was out of the question. But an engagement...

He might be able to use that to his advantage. “What’s so crazy about it?” he asked.

Nikki gasped. “I knew Mom wasn’t lying, but I thought she was mistaken. You and Stacy Kozminski...”

“Would kill each other,” Parker said. “You can’t stand each other!”

“Is that why you guys are here?” he asked. “Is this some kind of intervention?” Maybe he needed one because he was afraid he’d lost his judgment where Stacy was concerned. He found her entirely too attractive...and damn near irresistible.

“Since the definition of an intervention is getting someone to stop doing harm to himself, that’s exactly what this is,” Candace replied.

“I’m not hurting myself,” he said. It wasn’t exactly a lie; the cold shower hadn’t actually hurt him. That much...

“She will,” Candace said. “She’s been threatening you for years—every time her father came up for parole she threatened you to not show up.”

She’d asked him not to speak at his hearings. She’d even begged once, and while he’d respected how hard that must have been for a woman as proud as she was, he hadn’t granted her request. He’d spoken...and maybe his words had influenced the board to deny his parole.

“When her father died after the last hearing, I knew she would make good on her threats. I knew she would try to kill you,” Candace said, her face reddening with outrage on his behalf.

She had protected him once from shots fired at him. But Logan had thought then that those shots had been intended for Cooper. Now he knew...

Candace reminded him, “You thought she was the one behind the shootings, too.”

Parker’s head bobbed in a sharp nod. “That’s it. That’s why you’re doing this—to get evidence against her. It’s that whole keep your friends close and your enemies closer...”

After that kiss, he had been tempted to get close to her. Real close.

“Stacy’s not my enemy.” She wasn’t his friend, either, and given their families’ histories, they were unlikely to ever become friends.

“Then what is she?” Candace asked, her usually even voice nearly shrill with emotion.

“My fiancée.”

While Parker and Candace both sputtered at his announcement, Nikki remained oddly silent. She was usually the most gregarious of the Payne siblings—the most like their mother even though she vehemently denied the comparison. She wanted to be tough and cynical like her brothers. Logan preferred her as she was. Innocent and hopeful and maybe more romantic than she would ever admit. She studied him carefully, as if trying to find something that wasn’t there: love.

“Did you let Mom talk you into this?” Parker asked. “Is this one of her matchmaking schemes?”

Probably. “You really think I would let Mom manipulate me into one of her plans?”

“If not, why are you marrying her?” Candace asked. Her voice was still shrill and now he recognized the anger behind it. Why was she so angry about his fake engagement?

Maybe if his siblings had come alone to see him, he would have admitted the truth. But all he really knew about Candace Baker was that she was ex-military and ex-police and now a damn good bodyguard.

He replied in the tone his siblings and employees alike knew brooked no arguments. “I have my reasons.”

“Love,” Nikki said, as if she’d found what she’d been looking for on his face.

Parker snorted. “Did you hit your head when Logan knocked you down on the church steps earlier? There’s no love between him and Stacy. It’s called hate.”

“It’s called passion,” Nikki said. “That fine line between love and hate. Those two have been obsessed with each other for years. The way they’ve stared at each other during court and the parole hearings...”

Candace groaned as if she’d seen it, too.

What had they seen?

Nikki emitted a wistful sigh. “It’s so Romeo and Juliet...”

“Yeah,” Candace said. “Both of them wound up dead.”

Parker chuckled. “Is that one of your reasons, Logan? Love?”

While Nikki continued to study his face, as if waiting for his confirmation, Parker and Candace looked beyond him to the woman who padded barefoot from his bedroom. Instead of her black funeral dress, she wore his tuxedo shirt now with the cuffs rolled up and the tear in the shoulder revealing more of her honey-toned skin. Despite the smudges and blood on the shirt, her black lace bra and panties were visible through the thin white silk.

“Okay,” Parker said with an appreciative whistle. “I can see what those reasons are now.”

What the hell was Stacy Kozminski up to now? Dressed as she was, the woman was more dangerous than the bomb they’d found in her apartment.

* * *

W
HAT
HAD
SHE
been thinking? Stacy could have kicked herself for acting so impulsively as to take off her dress and pull on Logan’s shirt. She wished that she’d brilliantly planned the action in order to prove the validity of their fake engagement.

But she’d really just acted on impulse. She’d heard that woman’s voice—full of jealousy and disdain for her—and she had reacted. Childishly...

Heat flushed her face, but she refused to succumb to humiliation now—especially with that short-haired Amazon woman glaring at her with stark hatred. And jealousy...

Who was she exactly? Did she have a right to that jealousy? What was she to Logan? Stacy had seen her at the last couple of parole hearings, as if she’d come with him to offer her support. Or stick her nose in where it hadn’t belonged. Logan had never been married, so she wasn’t a current or even an ex-wife.