7. Stephanie

CHAPTER 7

Stephanie

M y arm reaches for him in my sleep, which wakes me. He's not there.

After a second of thinking I might have dreamed the whole thing, a glowing warmth in my belly makes me smile.

Oh, he's real alright, but where is he?

Slipping into his crumpled shirt from the floor, I hug my elbows and breathe in his scent, knowing one place he might be.

For a split second, I think it is Daddy behind his desk in his office, but Logan's naked torso soon comes into focus.

Unsurprisingly, my ‘assassin' is now going through my dad's papers.

The banker's lamp from the wide leather-bound desk gives Logan a very distinguished look. He has eyeglasses on now as well, which may be why I thought he was Daddy for a second.

"Anything I can help with?" I ask.

"It's not what you think," he sighs. "I just figured while you sleep, I'd?—"

"Go through all my dad's things," I scold him playfully, lifting some papers from his hands.

I'm ready to ask if we can go back to bed. It's past dark and I'm freezing. That and I already miss my man blanket. I never knew how good it could feel curling up into someone.

The papers Logan has been scouring catch my eye when I notice my name on them.

"Life insurance policies. Lots of ‘em," Logan drawls, easing himself back in Daddy's chair, eyeing the cigar humidor with a frown.

"I-I don't understand. We've got plenty of money."

The idea that Daddy would take out so many policies around the same time someone sent to kill me is too much of a coincidence. Daddy's loaded though, he's rich.

"You're rich," Logan corrects me aloud, as if he can read my every thought. My eyes narrow at first but then I'm lost.

"In a month anyway. Your mom—rest her soul—left everything in trust to you in case anything happened to her. How did she die, by the way?"

Logan's clinical intel report, as well as his casual question about my mom, jars me. I sit myself down, taking in what I soon realize is something I've known deep down all along.

"He-he hated her. Told her to her face. He only married her for her money and connections. Once he was a senator…"

"How'd she die?" Logan growls impatiently, agitated because he knows how much this is hurting me. I guess I need to know the truth as much as he does.

"Skiing accident. She slid right off a ravine, apparently. They never found her body," I croak back to him, hearing it way differently out loud for the first time.

Logan breathes heavily through his nose, sifting a couple more bundles he has stacked up.

"Your mom, a Swiss national, raised in the goddamned Swiss Alps, and she vanishes in a skiing accident?"

My face twists with embarrassment. It's so fishy when he puts it like that.

I decide not to mention how Mom was both an avid skier and outdoorswoman. She'd never ski towards a ravine.

No wonder Logan's fuming. It's so obvious now.

He's mad, but not with me. It's as clear to Logan as it is to me who wanted me dead tonight. A man who made me think he had control of everything. A man so desperate for power and money, he'd kill his own family for it.

"I feel sick."

"I'm gonna kill him," Logan says calmly, matter of fact. But I feel my head shaking violently.

"I need some advice right now, Logan. Not a murderer, okay. Isn't one in the family enough?!"

I don't mean to snap at him, which actually only makes him smile, maybe because he's included as family already whether he knows it or not. Hell, he's all I've got if the man I thought as a father was all just an act. Same as I've always pretended with him.

The weird part of all this is I can feel the ‘crisis' training my dad coached me on for so long starting to kick in. Not where to run or what to do either.

He's gonna pay for this but with more than his life. His reputation is Daddy's biggest and only real asset.

"Who do we need to tell first?" I ask Logan, already knowing the best way to deal with this is to blow it wide open.

"We are not gonna tell anyone," he clips, looking puzzled. "Stephanie, it's a lot to take onboard, but these are very dangerous people, people even I have no control over. We need to leave and fast."

I know he's right, but I know I am too.

"Hey. C'mere."

Logan's look softens. His huge hand reaches out for me. I snuggle into his naked lap, feeling an instant and familiar sensation that makes me grip the edges of the desk.

"Oh, Logan. Again? Here?"

As if I need to ask.

He's more than a killing machine, that's for sure. Logan's physical strength extends naturally to his lovemaking.

Maybe it's something about a girl half his age in nothing but one of his shirts and getting drilled by him on her daddy's own desk.

Or maybe, just maybe, like me, Logan feels like he's found someone who actually gives a shit about him. Someone who wants to get to know him as something other than just her killer or even her protector.

"Logan!"

I've gasped his name a hundred times already, but I swear he gets bigger and harder every time he's inside me. His taut legs shudder against the desk, his hands gripping me by the waist, his blazing eyes burning into mine.

He dares me to want him as much as he wants me, just like this. Forever.

He can hold his breath for five minutes under freezing water, I'm sure. But more impressive, more incredible for me, is his capacity to give me a perpetual climax.

It's almost too much but it feels so good, especially when he senses my real limit, letting his own release join mine as we both collapse into each other.

Our heaving chests rise and fall together until they're still, neither of us wanting to move or do anything else.

"How long do we have?" I eventually ask. "Until someone comes to check on your handiwork, I mean. Or lack of it."

I pout when I feel him slide out of me, making me miss him already even though he's right here. "Tonight, if we push it. Staying here is suicide."

My head bobs absently and I try to string some words together, but I decide to leave all the planning to Logan from now on.

He has learned my biggest weakness so far, and the effect it has on me. Plus, I did get my wish. I mean, I already agreed to do whatever he tells me to, didn't I?