Witness Protection (Defenders of Love Book 1) (11 page)

Especially if someone like Angelina were there to fill his days and nights.

Shaking his head at his own thoughts, Logan turned the water on. All these thoughts of Angelina—maybe he needed a cold shower instead of a hot one.

It took mere seconds for the large bathroom to fill with steam. Logan stripped off his grimy clothes and dropped them in a heap on the tile floor before stepping under the hot spray. Every muscle in his body ached with tension, but the hot water and herbal soap Aunt Clara made soon began to soothe it all away. He closed his eyes against the stream and let the water massage his face. Turning away from the spray, he let the heat warm his shoulders and wash down over his back, relaxing him.

Images of Angelina from the day before, damp and flushed after the shower she took in his tiny cabin began to fill his mind. His physical response even to the

mere thought of her was unnerving. More than anything he longed to have her there with him flushed and damp in
his
shower. He could almost feel her pressed against his hot skin, like the night before as he kissed her with a longing he had never before experienced.

"Get with it, James. You hardly know her." His voice echoed loudly in the large space as he worked hard to convince himself Angelina was not at all what he wanted. Neither his mind nor the rest of his body seemed to believe him.

"Who you talking to in there, nephew?" Aunt Clara's voice sounded loud and clear through the rush of the water and the heat in his veins.

"Aunt Clara! You're supposed to be with Angelina!"

"I was but she's doing the same thing you are. At least, she is taking a shower. I doubt she is fantasizing about herself the way you are about her though!"

"Ugh! Is there no privacy with you?" He reached up and snapped off the water spigot. His body felt cold at the loss of the pounding spray. He grabbed a towel from the rack by the shower and wrapped it tightly around his waist. Yanking another towel off the rack, he threw it over his head, towel drying his blond mop of hair as he walked from the bathroom.

"Hmpf! If you were so concerned with privacy, you wouldn't have walked out here wearing nothing but a piece of cotton around your waist. I am your old, feeble aunt, you know."

"Old and feeble? Right, Aunt Clara. You are anything
but
old and feeble. And that still doesn't give you the right to walk in on me."

"I didn't walk in on anyone anywhere. I heard your voice and thought you were calling for me. Maybe you needed a towel. Maybe you fell in the shower...or maybe you were in there fantasizing about that pretty young thing in the guest room. It's quite obvious, even to the old and feeble, that you got a thing for her, my young nephew."

"You are an old woman, half blind already. You can't see your feet on the floor." He shot his aunt a wry grin as he started pulling jeans, a waffle knit long sleeved top, and a soft flannel shirt from various drawers. Tossing the clothes on the bed, he dug through another chest of drawers in search of a fresh set of boxer shorts and a clean pair of socks.

"Not so old I can't feel the attraction between you two. Just where did you find that young lady?"

"Aren't you going to ask me why we are here? I know you must be dying to know." Logan grabbed the clothes back up off the bed and stepped into the bathroom to get dressed. The mirror was still covered in moisture but the majority of the steam and heat had dissipated from the space.

"Ahhh, the subject change tactic. Once a cop, always a cop." He heard Aunt Clara chuckle from the other room and smiled at her perceptiveness. Despite the cloudiness of her vision, there was absolutely nothing wrong with his aunt's mind. She was as sharp as a tack. Clara knew it as well as he did.

"Okay, Aunt Clara, we met at work."

"That little thing is a cop?"

"I didn't say that exactly but that's not the work I mean. Didn't I tell you? I am a history teacher now."

Aunt Clara showed up in the bathroom doorway, her expression incredulous to say the least.

"You are a
what
?"

"A history teacher."

Understanding dawned in her eyes as Aunt Clara nodded knowingly, "Ah, more undercover work?"

"Yup." Logan chuckled. "An all girls Catholic school, if you can believe it."

"Oh my, those poor, poor girls! What was the police department thinking putting
you
in there?"

"Come on, Aunt Clara. I'm not an idiot. How hard can it be to teach a few dates and discuss a few battles?"

"Harder than you think, nephew of mine. How'd you land that job?"

"My eternal bachelor status—as always." Logan shrugged and sighed. "Chief expected the gig to last a long time, I'm the only one with no one waiting up on me at night."

Clara grinned at him. "Not for long anyway."

"Relax, Auntie. I'm just trying to help her out. I don't mind the undercover thing. Problem is, I only made it one day before..."

"Before what? That sad little girl in there broke your heart with her secrets?"

Logan ran the towel over his hair one last time before tugging a comb through it. "What did she tell you?"

"You need a haircut. She didn't tell me a single thing. But you don't have to be a crack investigator to see she's got secrets. Somebody's hurt her and it better not have been you!"

"Aww, come on, Aunt Clara! You know better than that!" His aunt's words angered him. She was accusing Logan of being like...
him
.

"Now simmer down, boy. You know that's not

what I meant." Her understanding eyes and gentle pat

on his arm softened the reprimand. "I know you are nothing like my brother. You have your mother's heart and she was a good woman, Logan."

He shrugged away from his aunt's touch. "I'm sorry, Aunt Clara. I don't know...I mean I'm not sure why..."

"It's okay, dear. Why don't we go find your friend? She must be done showering by now. I left her some clothes that ought to actually fit her...and shoes. My goodness, Logan, what happened to her shoes?"

"Angelina was in a car accident yesterday afternoon. I found her at the bottom of a ravine. Her fancy high heels didn't survive. None of her clothes did actually."

"That explains why she looked like she dressed herself at the local Rescue Mission. If she wrecked her car why isn't she in the hospital?"

"The um...accident...wasn't really an accident." Logan wasn't sure how much he should tell his aunt without Angelina's permission. On the other hand, they had shown up at Aunt Clara's house unannounced in search of safety and protection. His aunt deserved to know what was going on. Just in case.

"That sweet little thing didn't try to kill herself, did she?" The shock in his aunt's eyes surprised him as did her suggestion. Even in the short amount of time he had known Angelina, he was certain suicide wasn't something she would ever contemplate.

"No, of course not. Someone...someone ran her off the road."

"So it was an accident."

"Nope. Not at all. Angelina...well, Angelina has a hit out on her."

"A hit? Like from the mob?" Aunt Clara exclaimed incredulously. "How exciting!"

"Aunt Clara!" Logan shook his head at his aunt. She watched way too many television dramas. "Angelina should really be the one to tell you the rest." He took his aunt by the arm and led her to the door of his bedroom. Let's go have tea, maybe a little something to eat?" His blue eyes sparkled. "A growing boy on the run needs to eat, you know."

"Growing boy, my dentures!" She swatted Logan's arm as they headed down the hallway toward the great room and kitchen area.

"Dentures? Why, Aunt Clara, you always told me those were your own teeth!" He teased.

"Well, of course they are!" She huffed. "When did you get to be so infuriating?"

"When I spent my teen years being raised by my aunt."

"Don't you be putting your inequities on me!" His aunt chuckled. "Just one more thing. You said you met that girl on your undercover gig but I could have sworn you also said she was a cop. Was she undercover too?"

"Sort of. I'll let Angelina tell you the rest if she wants to, okay?"

"Fine. Fine." She patted his hand again. "Let's have a little lunch and all get to know each other. You go start the tea kettle and I will hunt down your little lady. You will find everything you need in the pantry."

Aunt Clara headed off to locate Angelina while Logan continued on to the kitchen. The pantry his aunt spoke of was more storage warehouse than pantry. His

aunt kept enough stored supplies to feed herself and seven guests for up to three years. More than enough

time to re-establish society, or at least a good victory garden, she liked to say. Logan perused the shelves until he found the tea selection. He chose a cranberry orange blend he thought Angelina might like and set about heating the water.

Just as the kettle began to whistle, Aunt Clara showed up with a shy looking Angelina dressed in a pair of tight fitting jeans that looked like they had been made especially for her, a figure hugging black sweater and a pair of black cowboy boots. She looked like she just stepped from the pages of a magazine. His own jeans suddenly felt noticeably tighter.

"Feel better after a good hot shower, Angelina?" Logan's smile was wide and warm, an attempt to hide the desire his body struggled with.

"Yes. The guest bathroom was amazing. Like a spa. I thought this was supposed to be a little cabin in the woods but the house seems to go on and on and on..." Her words faded away as her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "I didn't mean to sound rude, Ms. James. Your...home...is beautiful."

"No apologies, little lady. This house is full of surprises. If civilization happens to collapse in the next twenty years, I plan to live out my days in luxury!" Aunt Clara chuckled as she motioned Angelina to a chair. While Logan poured hot tea for them, his aunt pulled plates of ham and turkey from the massive built in refrigerator. Thick slices of homemade bread and fresh tomato completed the luncheon fare.

They sat down together at the hand carved solid oak table. Angelina picked up the tea cup Logan placed in front of her and held it with both hands. Logan

watched as she sipped the warm liquid, her expression intense as she looked around the great room.

"Aunt Clara has a knack for design doesn't she?"

Angelina nodded and smiled. "It's not at all what I expected. Thank you, Ms. James, for the clothes. Everything fit perfectly. It's nice to have shoes on again."

"You are very welcome dear. I like to think that I am prepared for everything. Go ahead and eat something. You could use a little meat on your bones."

Chapter Eleven

"So, Logan tells me you're a cop."

Angelina dropped her sandwich onto the plate and shot Logan an angry look. "I'm a high school history teacher."

"Now, young lady, even if Logan hadn't told me otherwise, I never would've believed that. You're not like any teacher I've ever met. Why don't you tell me your story? I'm a pretty trustworthy old bird, you know."

"I don't know what Logan has told you but my current career is that of history teacher in a private high school. I don't doubt your trustworthiness. I do, however, doubt your nephew's at this point in time."

"Angelina..."

"Don't even bother, Logan. You knew how important it was for me to stay under the radar."

"I didn't tell her anything."

"Sure you didn't."

Clara was watching them both, a curious look on her face and an odd knowing half smile. A fuming Logan pushed back his chair with such fury it fell over on the stone floor. Clara just smiled as she watched him stomp from the house.

Angelina picked up the thick ham sandwich and nibbled at a corner of it, but her appetite was gone. She felt completely betrayed. How
dare
Logan tell her secret? Did he not understand the importance of secrecy in witness protection? She'd violated her contract by telling him. That was enough to get her in trouble with Jack. If he told his aunt everything, she could be kicked out of the program. And then who would protect her from Salvatore and his hit man?

Logan
.

A tiny little voice inside her head reminded her that Logan, a complete stranger just a couple of days ago, had done more to protect her than witness protection.

So, why couldn't she trust him?

Because Angelina had difficulty trusting anyone on a good day and now she was expected to put all her eggs in the James family egg basket. And Logan had already blown her confidence.

Logan's aunt had opened her secret home to them without question. She suspected the other woman could be trusted, even if her nephew couldn't keep his word.

"I'm sorry, Ms. James. I don't know what came over me. I'm not usually so rude."

"First of all, call me Clara or Aunt Clara if you prefer. Enough with the formal nonsense. Second, my nephew is the most trustworthy man you will ever know. What he told me when I guessed you were a cop is that I needed to talk to you to get your story. He

wouldn't tell me a thing, which of course makes me want to know even more what is going on with you." She chuckled. "I am also dying to know why you and my nephew showed up on my doorstep this morning

and why you looked like a homeless person when you got here."

Angelina couldn't help but laugh then. "I did look pretty bad, didn't I?"

"I suspect that a girl as pretty as you could never look bad." Clara winked at her.

Clara James made Angelina feel comfortable. It had been a long time since she had felt comfortable anywhere. Her gut told her that she could trust Logan's aunt. Despite how difficult it was for her to admit, she needed to be able to trust someone. Smiling sadly at Clara, Angelina took a deep breath and jumped right in to her story.

"I used to be a cop. In New York City, where I grew up. And then I got involved with the mob boss's son, took down his human trafficking ring while pretending to get shot and killed, and landed myself in witness protection. Only someone let the boss know I wasn't actually dead and he is trying to rectify that situation right now."

"So you now have a mafia hit man after you?"

"Yes indeed."

"Any idea how he found you?"

"The only person who knew where I have been living is my witsec agent." That's when it hit her. A rock formed in the pit of her stomach at the realization of what she had just said. Had Jack sold her out?

Clara studied her thoughtfully. "You think he gave you up, don't you?" Clara asked quietly.

"I don't know. I mean, no one else knew where I was. But Salvatore's hold is far reaching. He could have had one of his own investigators seek me out. If it had been my witsec agent, would it have taken over a year for them to find me?" Angelina looked down at

her hands in her lap, weighing her words carefully before she resumed speaking, her voice a near whisper. "The only other option is Logan. He truly was the only one who knew where I was last night."

Clara stood still, studying Angelina with an impenetrable gaze before she finally responded. "I raised Logan myself and I can promise you this, that boy—man—is as honorable as they come. Why on God's green earth would he go to so much trouble to hide you away if he was just going to give you up? Wouldn't it have been easier, on him, anyway, if he just turned you over this morning instead of risking the wrath of his crazy Aunt Clara by bringing you to my bunker?"

Angelina, at once ashamed for believing the worst in Logan, slumped against the back of the chair. "Oh, I just don't know! Yeah, I guess so. What you say makes sense."

"Logan is a good man. If he has undertaken the task of protecting you then that's what he will do." Clara slapped a hand against the counter for emphasis. "Besides, I get the feeling my nephew may be a bit personally invested in keeping you safe at this point."

Clara winked at her mischievously. Angelina felt the heat rise in her cheeks as she thought about being in Logan's arms. Had Logan told his aunt what had happened between them? "I'm not entirely sure I know what you mean."

"Oh, I think you do, honey. The chemistry between the two of you is hard to miss. That boy is like my own son. I even legally changed his last name after his momma died so he would always feel like he was part of our family. I'd say I know him pretty well and I

have never seen him look at a woman the way he looks

at you."

"We hardly know each other," Angelina stated without any real conviction despite the deep flush rising into her cheeks. Truth of the matter was that her body didn't seem to care that her brain knew almost nothing about the man. Nope, her body didn't care at all. Just the very thought of his touch on her skin made her nerves tingle with anticipation.

"So, you'll get to know each other." Clara shrugged as she dried a platter and put it away. "You could know someone as well as you know yourself but without chemistry it would be a very dry, very boring relationship. You two got as much chemistry as a meth lab. No doubt about that."

"I don't have room for a relationship in my life. I couldn't stand the thought of putting anyone else in danger."

As soon as she said it, she regretted it. Her very presence in that place was enough to put Logan and his sweet aunt into plenty of danger. Salvatore and his men would stop at nothing, including killing another woman, to get what they wanted.

Clara seemed to sense her feelings as clearly as if she had spoken them. She walked over to where Angelina stood and patted her arm soothingly. "It's okay, honey. We James's are more than capable of taking care of ourselves."

"I shouldn't have let Logan bring me here."

"This is the perfect place for him to bring you. My little bunker here has more surprises than a hooker in a free clinic. No one knows what they are going to get when they sneak up on Clara James. Don't you

worry your pretty little self over anything. You are safe here."

"Thank you for saying that."

"No need to thank me, dear. It's all in a days' work for my boys."

"You have sons?" This was the first she had heard of cousins.

Clara smiled, her expression proud. "Sure do. Twins. Kaiden and Keegan. As handsome as any. Smart and talented too."

"Are they cops like Logan?"

"Federal agents. One works for the FBI and one is involved with homeland security."

She was right, they could take care of themselves. Angelina was impressed. "You must be very proud."

Clara returned to the drying pile of dishes and began stowing them in their appropriate places. "Very. I did all right by all my boys. Even without a man around."

"What happened to your husband? If you don't mind me asking."

"Not at all dear. Jed was a good man, God rest his soul. His only fault is that he up and died on me when the twins were just toddlers."

"Oh, I am sorry. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

"Nothing bad about remembering the man I loved. Good men are so hard to come by. I count myself as lucky to have had him for as long as I did. Not nearly long enough, of course."

"Of course," Angelina agreed.

"Logan is one of the good ones too, you know. His daddy, not so much, but Logan, well, he has a heart

of gold. If only he would let himself use it." Clara eyed her from across the room. "Of course, all that might be

about to change, Angelina."

"I don't know. I mean, even if there were potential for something..."

"Oh, there's potential, all right," Clara stated with a chuckle.

Angelina ignored the hot flush in her cheeks, tried to act natural. "When this is over, witness protection will probably relocate me again. So, it won't matter what sort of potential there is, nothing could ever come of it."

"Love has a funny way of getting what it wants."

"If only that were true. I don't believe in fairy tales, Clara."

"Neither do I, young lady. But I do believe in fate and lady fate always gets her way."

Aunt Clara didn't appear ready to budge on the issue. Angelina wished she could have such faith in something as abstract as fate. As far as she could tell, ol' fate had it in for her and she wasn't giving it anymore satisfaction. "At any rate," Angelina changed the subject, "thank you for allowing Logan to bring me here. I wouldn't have had anywhere to go if I were on my own. Actually, if not for Logan, I would probably still be at the bottom of that ravine." She shivered at the thought of a long, lonely death in the middle of the woods.

Clara sat down in a chair opposite from where Angelina stood and reached across the table to pat her hand. "I raised my nephew to be a good man. Anyone he sees fit to spend his time with is welcome in my home—no matter the circumstances."

"Thank you, Ms....um...Clara. I appreciate your kindness more than words can express. These clothes

are real great too." Angelina gestured to the borrowed items and smiled.

"You are very welcome, dear. Now why don't you go on outside and find that nephew of mine? I imagine his ego is suffering a bit."

"I suppose I ought to go and try to smooth things over."

She smiled wanly at Clara as she pushed back her chair and made her way to the door. It was time to eat a little crow, and apologies were never something she was very good at.

***

Logan kicked at a loose rock as he paced the yard in front of Aunt Clara's bunker. He was angry that Angelina thought he would sell her out after all he had done to protect her.

After all that had happened the night before.

That was exactly why he avoided relationships. They were too damned complicated and the last thing he needed in his life was complications. Not that he had a
relationship
with Angelina anyway. A couple of near death experiences and a few hot kisses did not a relationship make.

Just the memory of those few hot kisses sent his body into a fit, the front of his jeans tightening again as he almost felt her body pressed against his. He couldn't seem to keep his man parts in check since meeting Angelina.

Knock it off, cowboy.
He shook his head to clear it of the images that had been assaulting him over and over since they had arrived on the mountain.
Angelina

Ferrara is a damsel in distress. You have always been a sucker

for distressed damsels.

Only Angelina was no damsel. She was a big

city cop on the lam from a mob hit man. She had held her own against one of the biggest crime families in New York City and she would hold her own now. She didn't really need protecting.

If only Logan hadn't found her in that ravine, then he wouldn't be involved up to his eyeballs in a situation that didn't involve him one little bit. And Angelina would have been dead by the time the sun rose that morning. But at least she wouldn't have accused him of feeding her to the sharks.

He kicked another rock. This time it bounced off the base of the windmill with a loud
ping
.

"That windmill do something to make you angry?" Angelina asked softly from behind him. He had never even heard her coming.

"At least it didn't accuse me of giving it up to a murderer." Logan scowled, regretting the words the instant they left his mouth.

Angelina looked up at him through sad eyes. "I'm sorry about that, Logan. Really, really sorry. I don't know why I would say such a thing after you have done so much to protect me. It's just so hard to believe that the one person I was assured I could trust might be the one who sold me out."