“You really up for what you’ll have to do?”
Logan paused. He knew what Gunner was asking. Could he look right into Juliana’s eyes and lie to her? Over and over again? That was what needed to be done, and because of their past, he was the prime candidate for the job.
The man who was supposed to slip close to Juliana, to stay by her side. He’d be her protection, and she just thought he’d be—
Her lover.
“Yes.” His voice dropped to a growl. “I’ll do what needs to be done.” Another betrayal. But he didn’t trust any other agent to get this close to her. Not even Gunner.
Especially not Gunner.
The operative on this mission had to stay with Juliana. Day and night.
Only me.
He headed for her. He knew his glasses covered his eyes, so no one would be able to tell he wasn’t exactly in the mourning mood. Good. No need to put on a mask just yet.
A long black limo waited for Juliana. The door was open. She’d already turned away from Logan and headed for the vehicle.
As he closed in on his prey, a woman with blond hair—perfectly twisted at the nape of her neck—and wearing a tight black dress wrapped her arms around Juliana. Logan’s eyes narrowed as he recognized Susan Walker, one of the late senator’s assistants. Logan’s team had questioned her for hours, but she’d seemed clueless about the true nature of the senator’s activities.
“I can’t believe he’s really gone,” Susan whispered, and a tremble shook her body. “This shouldn’t have happened. We had so many plans....”
A tall, dark-haired male walked up behind her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Thin black glasses were perched on his nose. Logan knew him, of course. Ben McLintock. Another assistant to the senator. One who hadn’t broken during the interview process, but still...he’d been nervous.
McLintock glanced over his shoulder and spotted Logan. The guy swallowed quickly and bobbed his head. Too nervous. The EOD was already ripping into his life. As soon as they turned over some info they could use, something that would tie him in with the senator’s illegal deals...
Then we’ll have another talk, McLintock. Logan wouldn’t play so nicely during their next little chat.
“Juliana needs to get home,” Ben said as he pulled Susan back. “You can both talk more there.”
“Yes, yes, you’re right.” Susan’s thin shoulders straightened. She looked toward the casket again. She shook her head and turned away from the limo. “It just seems like a dream.”
Ben took her hand but his eyes were on Juliana. “You have my deepest sympathies.”
Juliana’s eyes were dry. Her face too pale.
“I never...never...thought things would end this way.”
The senator had surprised them all. Logan wasn’t even sure why the guy had done it. Had the senator thought that if he were out of the picture, Guerrero would back off? That Juliana would be safe?
“I’m truly sorry,” Ben told her and bent to press a kiss to Juliana’s right cheek.
Logan’s back teeth locked. Mr. Touchy-Feely could move the hell on anytime. He could spend some quality moments comforting Susan Walker...
And he could stay away from Juliana.
“I need some time...some air...” Susan said, then staggered back as tears trickled down her cheeks. “I can’t leave him....”
The woman’s body trembled, and Logan wondered if her knees were about to give way. He tensed, preparing to lunge forward.
But it was good old Ben to the rescue. He kept a firm hold on Susan and steered her away from the vehicle. “I’ll take care of her.” He offered Juliana a firm nod. “We’ll meet you back at the house.” Then he glanced at Logan.
Logan gave him a shark’s smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure that she arrives home safe and sound.”
Other cars began to pull away. Logan spared a glance for the crowd. Juliana still hadn’t met his stare, and that fact was pissing him off. He wanted to take her into his arms, hold her, comfort her. But the woman might as well have been wearing a giant keep-away sign.
The trouble was...he’d always had a problem keeping away from her.
Ben and Susan slowly walked away. They stopped under a big oak, and Susan’s shoulders shook as she cried.
“I can’t do that.” Juliana’s voice was just a whisper. “Everyone is staring at me, waiting for me to cry, but I can’t.” Finally, she glanced at him with those dark, steal-a-man’s-soul eyes. “What’s wrong with me?”
“Not a damn thing.” And he didn’t care what the others wanted. The reporters—they were just eager for a clip of the grieving daughter so that they could flash her picture all over their TVs. As for all the senator’s so-called friends...Logan knew when tears were real and when they weren’t.
Better to not cry at all and still feel than to weep when you didn’t feel any emotion.
Her lower lip quivered and she caught it between her teeth. Helpless, Logan reached out and caught her hand. “Come with me,” he told her.
She stared up at him. Light raindrops began to fall on them. Did she remember the last time they’d stood in the rain?
I need to forget. But that magnolia scent teased his nose.
Sometimes you could never forget.
Logan shrugged out of his jacket and lifted it over Juliana’s head. “I want you to come with me.”
Juliana didn’t move. “You’re not supposed to be here.” Shaking her head, she said, “I saw you standing under that tree, watching me...but you’re not supposed to be here. You should have gone back to Washington or Virginia...or wherever it is that you belong.”
For now, he belonged with her.
The rain came down harder now.
“Miss James?” It was the limo driver. He was an older guy with graying red hair. The rain was already dampening his dark suit, but he didn’t seem to mind. He stared at Juliana, and there was concern—what looked like real concern—in his gaze. Not that fake mask most folks had been sporting for the funeral.
Not hardly.
“She won’t be taking the limo,” Logan said as he moved in closer to Juliana. “We need to talk,” he whispered to her.
She nodded. Drops of rain were on her eyelashes. Or were those tears?
She glanced back at the driver. “Thank you, Charles, but I’ll be getting a ride back to the house with Mr. Quinn.”
The driver hesitated. “Are you sure?” The look he shot toward Logan was full of suspicion.