Soon after, he lost the ability to concentrate on work. He knew what lay in store. Starting with Allison reaming him out, followed by … what, he wasn't sure. He was confident he'd done the right thing, the only thing he could do-make sure the mother of his child was safe. The kind of protection only he could provide, which included her living under his roof.
The words in the report blurred, the letters creating incoherent phrases. He caught himself tapping his foot. It didn't help that meeting reminder messages kept flashing at him every five minutes like a bunker warning that screamed "fire in the hole!" He clicked Dismiss All .
He shoved his chair away from his desk, the casters rolling him back two feet. He stood and paced. He crossed his arms. Uncrossed them. Stared at the view of the Denver skyline from his corner office.
Rolling his neck to ease his tight muscles, he thought back on that morning. Before dawn, when he met the moving van outside her apartment, he'd had all his arguments in a row like a checklist he could mark off as he hit each rational point.
That he and Allison would have this argument at work, however, left a bad taste of uncertainty in his mouth. Maybe he could convince her to wait until the end of the day to have it out with him. Yeah, and maybe the Cubs will win the World Series .
An odd sensation hooked into his nerves, making his skin itch and his heart beat irregular. His palms were moist like he was about to show up for a first date with roses and champagne with a woman he knew would turn him down.
He stopped pacing and shook his head. "Don't be an idiot," he mocked himself.
When the hands of his titanium Rolex read nine-thirty, the sense of impending doom had not disappeared.
This is stupid . He'd go in, lay out the facts, and field all the objections she lobbed at him. Like dodging mortar shells.
"Should be fun," he muttered. He left his office for hers. Along the way a stab of remorse gouged him for putting her through this same thing yesterday when he'd called her into his office.
The battalion of employees that rushed him when he emerged from his office was strangely absent. Usually they hovered around him, pelting him with questions only he could answer, shoving papers in his face only he could sign. But the hallway was empty.
Taking a deep, he approached Allison's office door and knocked.
"Come in," she said. He couldn't gauge the tone of her voice.
Squaring his shoulders, he entered. He shut the door before she told him to, and stood his ground unapologetically.
Allison sat at her desk with her hands folded. The red sweater she wore was a little snug, clinging to her curves. An outfit she'd borrowed from Devon? He slid a lusty gaze over her, eyelids lowering halfway.
Honestly, he did try to focus, to rein in his distracted thoughts. When all he wanted to do was drag her over the desk, peel her out of that too-tight sweater, and slid his tongue through her cleavage.
"Logan," she snapped, ripping him out of the fantasy. "Eyes up here." He met her chilling stare.
Sliding his hands into his pockets, he offered an opaque smile. "How can I be of service?"
He'd like to "service" her six ways from Sunday. Right now that looked about as likely as the military finally giving him the honorable discharge he deserved.
"Return my things to my apartment. And maybe I won't press charges for breaking and entering." Each word was coated with contempt.
"Neither of those is a good idea."
Her eyes skewered him. "Afraid your precious reputation in the security industry will be tarnished?"
"That's a reason, but not the real one."
"Oh?" She arched an eyebrow of disbelief.
It was time to take off the gloves. "I've done some investigating over the past twenty-four hours." He held up his hands. "Before you get bent out of shape, I used my personal contacts in the military who ran air-tight background checks on what your ex-husband has been doing the past four years. You were right to get out when you did."
Her eyes slitted. "I don't need your absolution for my choices."
He shrugged. "Maybe not, but Trevor's suspicious activities have left a bloody trail across continents. From what I know, I'd say that ugly path is heading right here to you."
Color drained from her face. "If he knows where I am, it's your fault."
"Cold comfort right about now." Logan stepped toward her. She straightened, placing her rigid fingertips on her desk, imposing a hostile barrier between them that he ignored. "You'd really take a life of fear, on the run, over the security and protection I can give you and our child?"
"It's not that simple."
He shook his head. "It's so simple you're letting yourself get blinded by distractions."