Logan's Woman (20 page)

“Logan. We have company.”

That was all it took. Even before he’d shoved
the man, Logan had been opening his eyes, fully aware. Claire was
still asleep, nestled in her husband’s arms and as trusting as
could be.

Silver eyes met his. “How many.”

“One, as far as I know. Luke told me to give
you this.” Logan sat up gingerly, adjusting Claire so that she
wasn’t pressed against his side. She whimpered in her sleep and
reached for her man.

“I don’t know if you want her awake for this or
not,” Nathan said, knowing that the best thing for both her and
Logan would be for them to both be awake and aware. But then, she
was an innocent. She wouldn’t understand what was
happening.

“I’ll guard her,” he said quietly, dangerously.
Logan caressed her cheek, silencing her, and then stood. Nathan
turned away at the nakedness while the man got dressed.

“Are you sure you want to leave her like that?”
he asked, alluding to her state of undress.

Logan growled at him. “I don’t want
her awake for this
—
“

“Logan?”

Nathan turned with a grimace, looking at the
wide, blinking, blue eyes.

“Too late,” he said.

—-

Claire sat up slowly, her mind fuzzy, numb.
“What’s going on?” Logan sat next to her, pulling the covers up to
hide her body from… “Who’s that? What’s he doing in
here?”

She looked at Logan, confused, face heating and
worry began to edge it’s way into her mind. “You remember Nathan,
right?” he asked slowly, his voice hushed. She could tell he was
trying to keep her calm but…

“What’s he
doing
in here?” she hissed, now
jerking the covers over her shoulders, getting more away each
second.

Nathan shifted on his feet uncomfortably,
looking away from her general direction. “Nothing, angel. I just
need you to stay really quiet and listen to me. Nathan, I got it
from here.”

The giant man nodded his head shortly then
headed out of the room, leaving them alone.

“Logan,” she whispered, feeling trepidation
creep through her. “What did he want? Why so late at night?” She
hitched the blankets higher, feeling bare and
vulnerable.

He ran a hand through his hair. “I want you to
listen to what I’m going to tell you, and you have to be
quiet.”

Fear laced through her.

Her heart began to pound as he spoke. “In my
closet, on the left side, there is a door. I have two rifles in
there, and one handgun. There should be enough room for you to hide
in there. Have you ever used a gun?”

Her eyes burned with tears, yet she
nodded. She began to shake, clutching the covers even tighter.
Logan was staring at her, fury and worry mixing with his now-onyx
eyes. “You have to be
quiet.
You have to go into the closet and wait. Whatever
you hear, whatever you
think
—
it doesn’t matter. You
stay the hell in there and don’t come out. If they find you, shoot
them.”

“But… Oh, God Logan I’ve never had… I’ve never
had to do this before… I don’t know if I…”

“Claire,” he said darkly, bringing his hands up
to cup her cheeks with a gentleness that belied the emotions in his
voice. “If you don’t protect yourself when I can’t, you can
garuntee that your sweet little ass will be over my knee in a damn
second.”

She laughed, somewhat hysterically. His cheeks
smoothed something over her cheeks, and she realized it was her own
tears. “Where… Where will you go?” Her heart thundered in her chest
once again, and a nauseous feeling climbed up her
throat.

His arms came around her tightly.
She fell into him with relief, her fears hitting a peak. A sob
escaped her throat. Never in her life had she been so
terrified
—
not for
herself, but for Logan. She never should have stayed. She never
should have put him and his friends in this position. Leaving the
second she’d laid eyes on him in town was what she should have
done.

“Logan…”

“Get into the closet. Now. Grab a
shirt and a pair of shorts and get in the closet. There’s a small
booklight in there. Use it to find one of the rifles, turn off the
safety, and get comfortable. Then turn off the light. The guns are
already loaded. If anything happens, and someone finds you, scream
as loud as you can. There’s a small shute, under the table that has
the guns. I only want you to go down it as a last resort
—
it’ll take you outside,
to the back of the house. I don’t know how many men are out there
and I don’t want you to walk into a fire-zone.”

The only thing she could do was nod and cry
against his chest. Why did this have to happen now? She pulled back
from him, wiping her cheek with her hands.

Logan stared at her, drinking in the site of
her.

He took her hand, and kissed her palm. “I’m
going to want this kiss back when it’s all over. Got that,
angel?”

She choked down a sob and nodded, tears
blinding her.

“Good. Now go. I’ll be back soon.”

Claire ran to the closet. The last site she had
of Logan was him, staring at her, with agony shining in his
eyes.

Chapter 20

Logan watched her disappear into the
closet.

Rage.

Fear.

Agony.

That’s all he felt. He didn’t feel
relief at finally ending Claire’s fear of being taken. He didn’t
feel exhilaration over getting rid of the fucker
—
or fuckers
—
who have been chasing her. Maybe,
once this was all over, she would finally feel free of worries, of
fear, of everything except
him
.

That was the only thing that made him leave the
bedroom. Within seconds, he was skipping steps to get down the
stairs quicker and going to the basement. His men had set up the
basement exactly as it had been when they’d been based over seas,
so it wasn’t hard to find the arsenal and gear up. He grabbed one
of the comm. links and slipped the piece into his ear, activating
the thing and beeping in.

“Sight?”

“Got.” Luke.

“Places?” he asked shortly, going up
the stairs. He had no clue how many people were on his
property
—
but he
knew one thing. They wanted Claire.

And that wasn’t going to happen.

“Luke is up top. I’m standing in the room next
to yours. Blake and Eric are down.”

Logan sent up a small prayer. At
least Claire wasn’t completely unprotected
—
Nathan was in the room adjacent to
his. Logan would be there, but he had to keep his head on. Taking
care of the situation was ultimately taking care of Claire, and
that’s exactly what he had to do. Worrying over her was only going
to get someone hurt.

He forced his training to kick in.

No Claire. No anger. No nothing except the
intent to kill whoever was threatening his home.

Logan was just climbing up the stairs when he
heard a creek.

A heavy creek. Too much weight to be
Claire.

Cool, icy calmness came over him. When he
moved, he was nothing but a ghost. No sound or emotion. He was in
complete control of his actions and every move was
precise.

At the top of the stairs, he saw
them.

Two men.

Dressed in suits. Crisp white shirt, spiral
cord leading to their hips, and a standard pistol clutched in their
hands. He heard one of the men say “clear” before two more came in
from the entrance.

And there were most likely more
outside.

Logan holstered his berretta and stood to his
full height.

Then he did probably the most dumb
thing one could have in that situation. He strode into the room as
if he owned the place
—
and he did
—
and met each of the men’s eyes.

Shock. That’s all he could say for them.
Feeling a little smirk reach his lips, he nodded at each of them
and walked to the kitchen, going for a casual glass of
water.

“So,” he started, knowing that every single gun
was trained on his back. “What are you men here for?”

He forced his voice to be casual. His hands
were steady as he poured himself a glass of water. Logan was slow
in his movements, knowing that just the smallest jerk would cause
one of them to shoot.

Why hadn’t they already? His lips curled with
the new knowledge.

Suits. Low-grad comm. links. And, soon, they
would be popping badges.

“Where is she,” one of the men
demanded.

“Who?” he asked, turning around to leisurely
lean against the edge of the counter, taking a drink of water. Two
men worked their way around him. The kitchen window was cracked
open and the curtains were pulled back from the panes, letting in
soft light.

“You know,” another one said, his voice
clipped.

“Do I?” Logan slowly set down the cup, smiling
the same time the cup clinked against the smooth marble.

“Where. Is. She.”

“I don’t really have any clue about who you’re
asking for. Try elaborating,” he asked them softly, his voice
taking on an edge.

Government agents. In his home. Were they with
Joey? His eyes narrowed on the man closest to him. His gun was
drawn and trained on Logan. He ran a hand through his hair, at the
same time murmuring, “Four-one.”

His men would understand the
warning.

A soft, gentle breeze wafted into
the room, accompanied by a shaft of moonlight
—
and that’s when it all came
down.

Logan swiped his hand at the glass on the
counter, using enough precise force to send the glass slamming into
the agents head. He grunted, then fell. He ducked right as a shot
came at his face, deftly drawing out his own gun and slamming the
butt of it out, catching the other agent that was behind him in the
calf. The man dropped, and it took only a second to swing his fist
out and catch him at the back of his neck.

With the two men who had been behind
him down, and the two in front of him still trigger-ready, he took
a second to look behind him
—
and almost groaned at the site of the half-foot
hole that was embedded in the back kitchen wall.

“You do know,” he said calmly as he stood up,
taking out both guns and pointing it at each of the two men, “that
if my mother were still alive, she would flay your asses to a burnt
mess?”

The two remaining men showed no reaction, just
held their Berettas at the ready, waiting for him to make the first
move. He stood their easily, looking completely at ease except for
the two guns that were pointing at their heads.

“Where is she,” the man on the right demanded
once again, ignoring everything that Logan said.

Just then, without taking his eyes
off of the agents, he noticed two shadows from the corner of his
eye. They’d chosen an amazing time to step in, he thought, lowering
his guns. Confusion flashed in their eyes before they dropped to
the floor
—
out
cold.

“How many were outside?” Logan holstered his
guns and walked over to Eric and Blake.

Blake answered, grimacing. “I don’t
know how it happened, but this place is full of them
—
I want to know
what
federal agents
have to do with Claire, though. You’d think that since Senator
Joey is after her, he wouldn’t want the government involved in
it.”

“That’s exactly what I thought,” Logan growled,
knowing that there would be a time and place to sort it all out.
For, now, though…they had things to do. “Damn.” He ran a hand over
his jaw. “What are my men doing?” They knew he was talking about
the ranch hands.

“We warned them to stay where they were. Do you
know that that one old guy has a collection of firearms?” Eric
asked, going to one of the agents and checking for a
pulse.

“Yeah.” He looked over the mess in
the kitchen and main room. “Take them out to the ranchers and strip
them down. Wait till they wake up and see if you can get anything
out of them. I have to go check on
—
“

Just then, a terrified, blood-curdling scream
echoed through the house.

Claire.

His heart dropped to his feet and all of the
blood rushed to his head.

“I’ll take care of these guys. You
and Eric get
—
“

Blake was cut off by the sound of a
gunshot.

“Fuck,” Logan shouted, drawing his
gun. He didn’t wait for back-up when he charged the stairs.
Terror was shooting through his veins, sending
hot, flashing warnings down his back.