Kensey had to remember that this was temporary. Tomorrow night would make or break her plan, and then she’d leave, never to see Logan again. It shouldn’t have hurt her, his questions, his disdain. But it did.
She knew him well enough to believe he didn’t mean to be cruel. In fact, there’d been at least a trace of regret in his eyes before he’d averted his gaze. Which didn’t, on its own, mean anything. Other than that he couldn’t bear to look at her.
“Logan, I’ve met him twice. Both times for a reason. Someone needs my help, and while I’m not crazy about my part in making things right, I’m determined to do all I can.”
She took a step toward him, grateful he didn’t move back. Although he still refused to look at her.
“I guess you could say I’m trying to bring this person in from the cold. He’s not dangerous. Just...” She sighed, because Logan’s jaw remained tight, his body tense. “If nothing else, I’d like to think that you could empathize with that. I have no time to play nice, or to be subtle. A lot’s riding on me. God knows, if there was any other way... Truth is, I’m desperate.”
He finally looked at her. But it wasn’t understanding she saw in his expression.
“This is a con, isn’t it?” Logan said. “I doubt I’m your target. I’m not number three on the Forbes list of wealthiest men.”
“No,” she said. “No. I’m not conning anyone. Look, I didn’t expect you, but when we’ve been together, it’s been because I like you. Very much. Which is entirely inconvenient. You’re a terrific guy, funny and smart and...the sex, well...that was unexpected, too.” Staring into his accusing face, she felt drained. “I came to Boston to do something important, and I shouldn’t have let myself get distracted. I know it’s a lot to ask, but can you please trust me? Just for a little while? Soon I’ll be able to tell you everything.” Assuming he’d want to hear any of it. “I swear.”
Her voice hadn’t cracked. But now it was her turn to avoid his gaze, afraid of what she might see. How had she not realized that she desperately needed Logan’s trust, even though she didn’t deserve it? Or how dearly she wanted him to be on her side.
* * *
“TRUST YOU?” LOGAN SAID. “To do what? Keep playing me?”
“Please. I—”
“I’d thought, when we first met, that I’d never met another woman, not in civilian life, at least, who was as composed. As self-assured. But now I have to wonder if it was an accident, you coming out in that towel. Or if you’d been waiting for hours to spring your trap.”
“No. Logan—”
“What I can’t figure out is why you went to so much trouble. You could have ignored me. I’d have been fine with that. But you didn’t. And now the only thing that makes any sense is that you’re planning to do something to Holstrom and make me the fall guy.”
Her hands were shaking. She’d flinched, but she hadn’t run when he’d called her out. It would have been simpler if she had.
She reminded him too much of people he’d worked with in Afghanistan. His assets. They’d been terrified because they knew one wrong word and he’d cut them loose. And that meant they wouldn’t have long to live.
Since he’d met Kensey, he’d thought about her far too often. Wondered if she really was the woman she claimed to be. It wasn’t just the black ops mention. He’d thought more about that, and in truth, if she were a threat, his former CIA affiliation would’ve been the last thing she’d have brought up.
He tried to look at her objectively. As best he could with her standing there in that damn tight red dress. Hell. Bottom line? If she were his asset, he’d believe her. Maybe not the details, but the big picture? Yeah.
But could he trust his instincts?
Probably not. Maybe.
God, he’d gone soft. He couldn’t bear watching her suffer. Standing there trying to look brave and probably hoping her legs wouldn’t give out on her.
“Well, shit,” he said, more to himself than to her.
In fact, she looked surprised when he approached, then wrapped her in his arms. He was surprised, too.
She curled into him, burying her face against his chest.
All he did was rub her back. As the seconds turned to minutes, he felt her muscles relax beneath his palm. Her breathing became steadier.
“I don’t have a clue what to do about you,” he whispered. “I know better than to let my emotions get the best of me. But something tells me you just might be telling the truth. Should I believe you, Kensey?”
She looked up at him. Her eyes were damp. Little crystals had formed on her long dark lashes. “I’m telling you the truth. As much as I can. So yes, you can believe me. But frankly, you’d probably be doing yourself a big favor by staying clear of me.”
Well, he had to give her points for honesty. Unless she was playing him. Goddamn it. He wasn’t this wishy-washy guy. “My sister drives me nuts trying to get me to relax. Try new things. Stop being such a damn workaholic. I think this might meet with her approval.”
Kensey smiled up at him. “She sounds great.”
“She is. And, I should mention, that while she’s one of the most intuitive women I’ve ever known, she got herself into deep, deep trouble believing in someone she shouldn’t have.”
“Ah.” She sighed. “A cautionary tale.”
“For both of us.” He brushed the stray wisps of hair off her face. “There’s no sure way to know someone else’s heart. Their true motives. All we have is our instincts. I hope you’re listening to your inner voice. Mine is telling me to keep an open mind.”
Kensey briefly closed her eyes. “Honestly, I’m not sure anymore. Things have gotten so complicated.”
He shrugged. “Sometimes it’s tricky.”
Then he kissed her.
She whimpered. He doubted it was because the kiss was all that good. Although, the more he tasted her, felt her tongue tease him before she pushed his back—good fell ridiculously short when it came to describing how she made him feel. It seemed impossible they’d been through so much in one night. Yet they’d arrived here.
So maybe it was the truth. All of it.
Or lies. All of it.
Hard to believe that he’d fall for anyone he couldn’t read.
When she pulled back, she held him still, one hand on his neck, the other framing the left side of his face. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I wish this was a vacation. That I could sleep through the night and wake up feeling refreshed. That we could plot out all the fun things to do in Boston. Did you know they have food tours?”
“Wait. You mean there are more exciting things in Boston than this apartment?”
“Yep. Lots. No disrespect intended.”
“I’ll speak for Sam and tell you none taken. But we don’t actually have to stand here all night. There are options.”
She smiled. “Yes. There are.”
He moved to kiss her again, and she let him, but when he started guiding her toward the bedroom, she stopped him.
“What’s wrong?” Looking down at her, he could see the worry in her eyes. A place deep inside his gut sent up a flare.
“You won’t say anything about me to Holstrom tomorrow, will you?” she whispered, with the same coy look she’d used on Holstrom an hour ago. For Logan’s benefit, she threw in the soft doe eyes.
It wasn’t just one flare now. His brain was on red alert and waiting for a KO punch. He stepped back. “That trust thing you asked me for? Remember that? My word is good. You don’t need to bat your eyelashes. Or offer to trade favors with me.”
She flinched. “No, I wasn’t—you don’t understand—”
“Oh, but I do. You can’t tell me jack shit but I’m supposed to trust you. And keep my mouth shut.” He shook his head, astonished that even now he wanted to rationalize his way back to her bed. Jesus. She was still playing him and he kept being the idiot who let her. “I’ve made mistakes in my life, but this one just might end up in the top five. Now I’m going to ask you a question, and I swear to God, don’t even think about lying...”
“I won’t.” Her voice had gone small and soft. She looked miserable, but she could be thinking about the weather for all he could tell.
“Whatever the hell you have going on with Holstrom, will it impact the contract I’m trying to get?”
He knew the answer the second her shoulders slumped. If she tried to lie, he’d know it.
“It might,” she said. “It’s not likely, but it might.”
He’d been shot before. It felt a lot like this. “I hope that whoever this person is that you’re bringing in from the cold is worth every broken soldier who could have been helped by my company. Do you know the suicide rate for ex-military? No? Look it up.”
He went to the kitchen and got himself a couple of Plinys and he didn’t even slam the fridge door. Without looking back, he made it to his bedroom. He shut that one quietly, too. But he itched to knock the shit out of something.
He should have known.
Black ops for how long, and this woman turned him into an asset with one little towel. Yeah, so this wasn’t going to influence his meeting tomorrow at all.