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  When he closed his fists, her dress bunched between his fingers. He inched it higher, gliding his hand down until his fingertips met skin. He groaned into her cleavage. Then he slid his touch up her thigh, lifting the hem of her dress. He traced the satiny line of her panties to the juncture of her thighs. He found her damp with proof of desire. He edged the cloth aside, gliding his fingers along her smooth slit, moving in a slow sensual rhythm.

  As he stroked the moist crease, her hips rolled with his motions. She whimpered approval. Nothing compared to how amazing her slick heat felt coating his hand. He angled his wrist down and slid his middle finger inside her. His thumb moved in swift circles against her clit.

  Shaking, gasping, she stood on tiptoe as he took her to peak. Her inner muscles gripped his finger and the ridge of her clit pulsed against his thumb. She released a sexy cry as he gave her a double climax.

  She sagged against him, replete. He withdrew from her heat.

  He would’ve stayed right there and made her come again, but if he didn’t unzip his fly in two seconds he’d burst through it. He needed to bury himself deep inside her, before the flame of desire burned away his last threads of sanity.

  “Your bed. Now.” His breath seethed in rapid bursts. “Or I’ll take you right here against the wall.”

  Instead of leading the way, she froze. Her inviting warmth suddenly retreated. She tensed all over and untangled herself from his arms.

  The message finally hit his lust-fogged brain. She was doing it again, damn it. Denying him just as he crossed the threshold of her trust, shutting him down. The rejection was maddening. “What the hell happened?”

  “Something that shouldn’t have.”

  He clenched his teeth. “Sorry, sugar, we already went there. Remember?”

  “Not again. I can’t do this.”

  Don’t-touch-me vibes battered his libido into submission. His sexual high screeched to a halt. “Why?”

  “It isn’t right.”

  “What’s not right about this?”

  “Everything. I don’t know. I can’t explain.”

  “You can sure as hell try.”

  “I promise it has nothing to do with you.”

  He spread his arms to state the obvious. “I’m the one bursting at the seams. So don’t tell me it’s got nothing to do with me.”

  She went silent.

  He glared at the ceiling. “Unbelievable.” He scraped his hands through his hair, horny and pissed off. “I should’ve known this was coming. You fire me up and then leave me high and dry. I’m done with this game.”

  Her eyes snapped. “I’m a game to you?”

  “You’re the one making up the rules as you go along. You tell me.” His strangled tone of accusation and sexual frustration made her shut down even more.

  “Accept it, Logan. I can’t give you what you need.”

  He wasn’t convinced. Especially with afterglow bright in her cheeks even as she crossed her arms like a shield over her heart. “Did you bother consulting me on the subject?” he demanded. “Because I can guarantee you’re exactly what I need.”

  “I’m not talking sexually.” Misery coated her voice. “In every other way.”

  The copout infuriated him. “I’ll decide what you can or can’t do for me.”

  Her head snapped up as if he’d slapped her. When she looked at him, her gaze burned with disgust. “Thanks for deciding my worth. At least I know where I stand.”

  Too late, he realized how his half-cocked statement sounded. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  Between her biting allegation and his own remorse, he felt like he was handcuffed and getting his mug shot taken. Nothing he did now would change the situation. “Fan-freaking-tastic.”

  The statement hung empty in the air because she’d already gone to the closet to turn on the lights. Brightness roared to life like an incinerator.

  She didn’t even look at him as she grabbed her coat. “I need my car for tomorrow.”

  “I figured.” Resentment coated his tone, although longing hounded him. Twenty cold showers wouldn’t douse the need still raging in his blood.

  “Then let’s go,” she said tightly.

  Dismal silence filled his SUV as he drove her back to the office. This wasn’t how he’d planned tonight.

  As his sexual fever wore off and the savage hunger died down, he saw the mistake he’d made. He should’ve given the invitation and let her come to him—the way he had the night they’d slept together. Now he understood on that night she’d still felt in control, she’d made the choice instead of him initiating the seduction.

  Then again, he’d been dishing out hints left and right since she started working for him. In the past six weeks she’d made every excuse to sidestep the obvious.

  Despite their crazy mutual attraction, she’d kept herself in check and he hadn’t. Could that have been a bigger clue?

  Then, there was his suspicion about her unmentioned past. She had her own demons to face, issues she didn’t want his help solving. Even though that was his nature. He was the guy who stepped in, fixed what was broken, and got the job done.

  Damn. Rick was right. Logan had a type—the unattainable woman. A pattern he ought to break. Tonight.

  If only it was any other woman but Allison. Then he’d walk away without a scratch, without looking back and wondering what could’ve been…

  Maybe Allison was right, he considered ruefully, careening through the ice-covered streets of downtown Denver. Gasoline and fire only mixed once, before you discovered the result could become an uncontrollable inferno. Maybe their volatile attraction was more than either of them could handle.

  Damned if you do, damned if you don’t .

  He didn’t like being backed into that corner. Maybe that’s how she’d felt tonight. Hell, he didn’t know. And she sure wasn’t in the frame of mind to tell him.

  Either way, she’d leave in six weeks—apparently this was what she always did, from what he’d seen in her apartment.

  He turned a sharp right into the Stone Security parking garage and steered toward her lone car in the lot. “Here you are, safe and sound.” Lingering frustration darkened his tone. “Uncompromised.”

  “So you think.” She reached for the door handle.

  “Allison—”

  She paused. He slapped his palm against the steering wheel, wrapped his fingers around the curve, knuckles white. He looked away.

  There was nothing left to say. The dead silence cued her to open the passenger door. She slid out and slammed the door shut.

  Pulling the collar of her coat up around her ears, she walked to her car. Her still-heated breath frosted in the air making it hard to see. She fumbled for her keys.

  Logan’s engine revved and he peeled out of the parking garage. She didn’t blame him, but it served as the exclamation mark punctuating a dismal night. She blinked away the sudden swell of tears.

  On her way home, she stopped at the drug store—just to ease her mind. She didn’t need their attraction and the fear of pregnancy hanging over her working relationship with Logan. She was sure the test would read negative, just as it had the nights she’d held her breath and prayed her ex-husband hadn’t gotten her pregnant during his leaves from duty. So far, the tests had offered overwhelming relief, and she hoped the same of this one.

  When she arrived home, she peed on the stick and then paced her tiny living room. “It’s nothing. Stop worrying,” she told herself.

  The past six weeks flashed through her mind.

  At the recent security convention, she and Logan had struck up conversation several times, since he kept miraculously appearing everywhere she went. Before the event ended he’d asked her to join him at the hotel bar, refusing to take no for an answer. No harm, she’d figured. He was fantastic eye-candy, full of wit and charm, and he’d lured her with the promise of a lucrative opportunity to use her skills to further his company. His confidence,
and her secret attraction to him, had led to great conversation. It hadn’t taken long to see where things were headed. Her pent-up sexual desire won out over her usual detachment. She hadn’t slept with a man since leaving Trevor four years ago.

  She’d gladly let him talk her into stopping by his hotel room so he could go online and show her his security systems. She’d known where that would probably lead. She’d gone anyway. She’d wanted him to claim her, needed to feel his strong arms around her. She’d enjoyed his subtle, seductive pursuit. It had been forever since she’d felt chemistry or attraction the way she did with Logan.

  Once they were alone, the second he’d touched her, she let all dormant desires out to play. The muscular perfection of his body, the way her pleasure came first, and the appeal of no-strings-attached bliss let her shed her fear of intimacy. His kisses promised long-denied pleasure, and his mouth and body had delivered.

  Pulling in a tight breath, she shoved those sexual thoughts from her mind. Yes, Logan was male perfection. Yes, the way he touched her convinced her no man on the planet could make her feel the way he did in bed.

  That did not mean she’d give up the personal and psychological freedom awaiting her in France for an affair of the heart. Her heart had led her down terrible paths. Had let her forgive people who didn’t deserve forgiveness. She couldn’t lose her heart to someone again. All that led to was hurt and betrayal.

  She forced her restless steps toward the bathroom. She shut the door behind her.

  Taking a deep breath, she exhaled. Assured herself everything was fine. She looked at the results.

  Two pink stripes.

  Oh, God .

  The truth slammed into her. She staggered back.

  I’m pregnant…with Logan’s child .

  CHAPTER 4

  Allison trudged into work the next morning with all the enthusiasm of a death row inmate heading to the gallows. Denial swirled thickly around her. Her mind erected a steel blockade to shield her from the complications and staggering changes awaiting her. She was carrying Logan’s baby.

  As she walked into the building, the lobby looked too bright, the marble too shiny. A weightless sensation took over as if she were moving under water. Muted voices echoed around her. People bobbed in slow-motion. The elevator heading up was cramped, confining, unbearable. She got off on the second floor and took the stairs to the eighth.

  She went through the motions of the workday in a cloudy, surreal haze. Thank God she hadn’t run into Logan yet. She had no idea what to say to him. How to tell him. If she should tell him at all.

  A wretched taste hit the back of her throat at the thought. He deserved to know. She’d never keep something like this from him. She just didn’t want to face him, his reaction, when she revealed the truth.

  Her legs moved like lead weights, carrying her about on menial missions, a series of mindless errands filling the day. No demonstrations until Friday, thank goodness. She dreaded that, though, knowing how close they’d be. She’d feel the heat of his body, the warmth of his touch, the sexy charm of his smile. She’d want him all over again.

  Don’t go there , she warned herself. It was pointless.

  Last night’s events had certainly ended whatever might’ve been between them. They’d both made that clear. The problem was they’d be forever linked with this baby. That anchor of reality plunged her hopes of living fear-free in France to an unreachable abyss.

  She’d already wrestled through the night with a deluge of shock, denial, resentment, amazement, awe, devastation. About every conflicting feeling accessible to the human range of emotion, she’d experienced.

  Now she was plain exhausted. Numb. Wrung dry.

  Returning from the second floor marketing office, she sank wearily into her chair. She closed her eyes, resting her forehead on the back of her wrist.

  Any sensible course of action eluded her, as though she floated alone on a life raft, seeing nothing but endless ocean in every direction. Her options were bleak. Which heaped on horrible guilt for not being happier about the small miracle inside her.

  A baby . She placed her hand lightly on her abdomen. What right did she have to receive this gift? What did she know about raising a child? She’d had no role models, no practice—she’d never even given it a thought, too focused on France to consider anything else.

  What do I do?

  No answer came. Nothing. Her brain, her heart, and her soul had left the building. She was a shell facing the crushing weight of the unknown.

  Her office door sailed open. Devon breezed in. “Hey.” She grinned, her teeth bright within the frame of her red lips. “Stopped by to see if Vivi Syndrome wore off yet.”

  “That woman is the least of my problems.” Allison couldn’t meet her eyes.

  Gaze narrowing shrewdly, Devon shut the door. “I noticed you and Logan left pretty quick.”

  Allison nodded, said nothing.

  “Are you okay? You look like hell warmed over.”

  “Thanks.” Allison gave a hollow laugh. “About how I feel.”

  “That bad?”

  Tension tightened at her temples. She tried to respond, but the words stuck in her throat.

  Devon’s back straightened with take-charge ambition. “I see a two-martini lunch in our near future.” She glanced at her watch. “Make that happy-hour. It’s almost five-o’clock. Somewhere.”

  “I wish.” Defeat clung to Allison.

  Devon gave a decisive nod. “I’ll make the reservation immediately.”

  “Don’t.” Allison stopped her. “I can’t.”

  “Oh, please.” Devon rolled her eyes. “Logan’s not a slave driver. You can play hookie for one afternoon.”

  Allison shook her head wearily. “I mean, I can’t drink. And I’d be the worst company.”

  “Drowning your sorrows at the bottom of a bottle is a perfectly fine coping mechanism. I highly recommend it.”

  Allison fixed her stare on her desk. “Not for the next nine months of my life.”

  “What do you mean, the next nine—” Devon froze to the spot. “Don’t tell me you’re…”

  “Yep. Pregnant. Yes, it’s Logan’s. Isn’t that wonderful?” Allison burst into tears.

  “Oh, honey.” Compassion gentled Devon’s voice.

  A strangely comfortable silence passed between them. No judgment, no pity, no questions. Just quiet companionship. Allison’s gratefulness caused more tears to well up and spill down her cheeks. Her eyes ached. Her throat was raw. The tears kept coming.

  Devon picked up the nearby box of Kleenex handed her a tissue. Allison wiped her dripping chin, feeling pathetic but surprisingly relieved. Like the sticky mess inside her had been scraped away and life became a little cleaner, a little clearer.

  Devon asked softly, “Does Logan know?”

  “No.” Allison blew her noise. “Not yet.”

  A wry note accompanied Devon’s tone. “I’d love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.”

  “Me, too. Then I wouldn’t have to be in my own skin. An out-of-body experience sounds like paradise compared to standing there, defenseless and alone, waiting for his reaction.”

  “First of all, you’re not alone. Let’s clear that up right off the bat. Second—”

  “I’ve always been alone.”

  “Second,” Devon repeated firmly, “as far as defenses go, Logan’s not the type to lose it when things really count. Sure, he’ll rant and rave up a storm if someone’s made a stupid mistake that cost him a deal. But that’s business. When it comes to friends and family, he’s the guy you want on your team.”

  “I’m not a friend or family.”

  “You are now.” Devon slid a meaningful glance to her abdomen.

  “What if I don’t want a family? What if I’m not ready for any of this?”

  “Buckle your seatbelt, sister. This ride’s already started.”

  Allison’s chin trembled. Devon handed her another tissue. “I’m not Logan’s problem
.”

  Devon considered her. “Logan would sooner kick a wounded puppy as throw his pregnant girlfriend out on the streets. It’s not in him. He doesn’t abandon or reject the people who need him. If anything, his weakness is getting too involved, caring too much.”

  “I’m not his girlfriend.” Resentful frustration grated on her. “He owes me nothing.” Defiance straightened her spine. “Maybe I don’t want anything from him. Maybe it’s better if I walk away.”

  Devon snorted. “Yeah, like he’d let that happen.”

  A glimmer of hope rekindled in Allison. “If he doesn’t want this baby, I can still move to France.”

  Devon blinked at Allison’s sudden change of heart. “What’s in France?”

  “The life that’s been waiting for me for four years.”

  “You, you mean…” Devon stumbled over her words. “You have someone there?”

  Allison shook her head at Devon’s misunderstanding. “Someone who’s not there.”

  “Enlighten me.”

  “That’s a long, ugly story.”

  “I just cleared my schedule.

  Allison gave a short sigh. “It’s not safe for me to stay in the States.”

  “Logan’s good at keeping people safe. Have you noticed where we work?”

  “I promised myself I’d never give a man control over my life again.” Warmth and color returned to her insides. She stated decisively, “I’ll raise the baby in France by myself.”

  “Heads up, honey. Logan won’t go for that, not for a minute. He takes care of his own.”

  Allison crossed her arms. “I can take care of myself.”

  “Not if you or your unborn child is in danger.” Devon’s lips pressed together in a moment of thought. “We may not be maid-of-honor best friends, but I know this isn’t you. Why are you scared?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Allison said coolly, gathering familiar defenses around her like old allies.