Logan's Woman (13 page)

“Do you want me to touch you more? Like this?”
he asked darkly, brushing his finger over her nipple and then
pinching softly, drawing a quiet, high-pitched sigh from
her.

“Oh, yes.”

“Then you’ll marry me,” he said,
pinching again and pushing up her shirt, kissing along her
stomach
again
, but
this time reaching around to undo her bra with one hand.

Her head shook, but she couldn’t speak. How
could she when he was taking her bra away from her body and pushing
her shirt up, his mouth so close to her breast.

“You will, Claire,” Logan said
again, his voice even deeper now as he stared down at her. She dug
her hands into his hair, the dark strands so soft yet rough, just
like the man himself was. Claire tried to urge him to her
breast,
needing
to
feel his mouth on her. She’d never done this with any other man –
couldn’t even imagine herself doing it with another man. How could
she? Logan was perfect…

“I won’t,” she whimpered, arching up to his
mouth.

He was still, but then pulled back.
His brows were drawn low, his cheeks darker, eyes smoky and hot and
so full of
desire
.
Her body shook, and she pulled him to her again.

“Fine,” he said roughly, his voice like gravel.
“When you say you will marry me – which you will no matter what –
we’ll finish this. But not until then.”

He got up, staring at her for long moments
before stalking out of the room, hands harshly pushing his hair
back.

She gaped.

Chapter 11

Carl parked the car, closing the door to his
grey Cavalier. The car was old and rickety, but it got thirty miles
to the gallon and had lasted him a whole trip across the U.S.
Besides the stink and the junk that was piling up in the back seat,
it was marginally clean and did it’s job.

He didn’t know
why
he had to do this. The woman was
dead. It wasn’t like she was going to turn up in a little ghost
town,
as
a ghost.
He locked the car and started his way to the gas station, the only
one. He’d driven around and hadn’t found any fast food restaurants.
There was a small diner across from a couple of hotels, but he
hadn’t wanted to fraternize with other people. He was on a mission
– an aimless one – and he couldn’t have people recognizing
him.

The bell jingled when he pushed open the door.
It was a quiet little place, a little murmur of a TV in the back
ground. The rumble of the refrigerators along the back wall was
annoying, but he got used to it as he went to the back. He grabbed
a 32oz. thing of Sprite and a bag of Doritos and nacho cheese on
his way to the front.

He liked his cheese. It was just a shame that
it couldn’t be warmed up a bit.

“Do you have any gas outside?” the cashier
asked indifferently, grabbing the stuff from the counter and
ringing it up. The computer beeped at him as Carl decided on
getting gas or not.

He’d filled it up the last gas station he’d
been at, but then he’d have to use credit and he had been told
specifically not to.

Carl shook his head. “No. Just
these.”

The cashier gave him a weird look.

He knew why.

His voice was different. You wouldn’t think by
looking at him that he had much of any affliction, but he sure did.
Feeling annoyance prickle the back of his eyes, he paid the cashier
and grabbed the back from the counter.

Carl didn’t offer any good-byes. Instead, he
went to his car and started the thing up.

It wasn’t much of a meal, that was for sure.
But he couldn’t risk not having enough for the hotel and he sure as
hell wasn’t sleeping in his car. Again.

He chose the better of the two
hotels. The one across from the diner looked old and nasty and like
it had rats in it. It actually looked like something out of
Quarantine
. Plus, there
were two police cars parked out front of it.

Just a bit later, he was settling into his room
and flicking on the TV. The room was ice, quaint. Nothing too
shabby but nothing to gaudy.

He flicked through the channels and paused on
the news. Election updates.

Even though he was mad about the pointless
search, he still caught up on how Ole Joey was doing. The old fart
was portly and had dead eyes. Just as dead hair. His skin was
wrinkled and flabby, and if it weren’t for the expensive cologne he
practically bathed in, he would be the equivalent of a
hippo.

Carl chuckled at himself. Yeah, he was pretty
funny.

Joey was on the screen, holding hands with
Senator Campbell. Carl couldn’t see it, but he knew that Joey and
him were whispering harshly at each other. He guessed it came with
the job, learning how to threaten each other even when the camera
was on them. Carl was a little jealous. If only he could do that –
while he wasn’t a known convict, at least. Either way, the two
runner-ups were definitely going at it quietly.

His lips lifted in a dumb grin.

Soon enough, Joey would be in the chair and
Campbell would be dead. All Carl had to do was prove that the girl
was actually dead – he had no idea how to do that, but he could
always fabricate something – and then Campbell would be at the
muzzle of Carl’s gun.

Carl leaned back into the bed, forgetting about
the TV and looking around the room. The window was open and he
could see out of it. Curious, bored, he got himself to his feet and
looked out of the window –

His eyes widened and he almost toppled
over.

There, standing in front of the diner, was a
tall blonde woman – and she looked exactly like Claire
Campbell!

He didn’t notice the man she was standing next
to, didn’t even bother to confirm that it was her. He grabbed his
phone from his pocket, dialed some numbers, and held it to his ear.
How Joey had known that she wasn’t dead, he would never know. He
also would have guessed it fate that she show up here, of all
places.

“I’m busy. What do you want,” were his greeting
words when the phone was answered.

“I think I found her.”

“And? Take care of it.”

“You don’t want to see her –“

“Why would I? Off her and get back here to take
care of her father. The sooner the family is out of the way, the
better. You’ve been in this business for how long now?” the man on
the other end snarled. Carl looked back at the TV, noticing that it
was just Campbell on the screen. He was talking about stupid things
such as taxes and reforms.

“A couple years now,” he answered, feeling his
brow drop.

“Then you should know that the sooner they are
out of the way, the better. And I wouldn’t want to risk my ass
going down there just to watch you kill her.”

“Right,” he said shortly. His other bosses had
loved to witness the death. But he guessed Joey was a bit
different, wasn’t he?

Carl hung up the phone, looking back out the
window.

He would wait to kill her, but only for a small
time.

Claire Campbell was as good as dead – she just
didn’t know it.

Chapter 12

Logan had dragged her to town several days
later, and even though she knew the reason why, she played dumb and
tried to deter him from the one store he was intent on taking her
to.

The jewelry story. She hadn’t noticed it when
she’d been staying at the hotel, but now that she knew Logan’s
intentions and had forcibly denied him when he’d pulled her to it,
she knew it was there and right now, it seemed like a giant, evil
monster about to eat her.

Even right now she was tugging him to the
pillow store, which was two over from the jewelry store. It might
not be far, but in this town it meant all the difference. “Let’s
look at these pillows! So soft... Then we can leave,” she said with
forced brightness.

He stopped them in the middle of the sidewalk.
“Claire,” he said, tightening his hand around hers. “You aren’t
going to make me forget what we actually came here for.”

“Yeah, but...we don’t have to do it today,” she
tried, feeling trapped.

“We do. The wedding is in two days and we
haven’t even went dress shopping!” he said, exasperated.

“Why do you sound so happy about this?” She
glumly dropped her shoulders, letting him tug her along. He slipped
his arm around her waist and pressed his lips to her
temple.

“Because I’ll finally have the woman of my
dreams,” he said deeply, his voice lowering, “in my
bed.”

Her face flamed and she batted at his chest.
“Logan! We are in public!”

“And?” he teased, walking with her still in his
arm to to the jewelry store.

Claire sighed heavily, trying to ignore the
pounding of her heart and the blush in her cheeks. When they walked
in, the elegant store chimed, signalling their arrival. A woman
with perfectly coiled hair, who was dressed just as perfectly, came
up to them with an odd look at Logan.

“Logan! What a surprise to
see
you
here,” she
said brightly, taking his hand and shaking it. Claire couldn’t help
but notice that she looked slightly familiar, as if she had seen
her before. But she knew she hadn’t. “And
you
, as well,” she added, looking at
Claire. The woman didn’t sound too happy about that.

He smiled at her. “I know. Claire and I were
just looking for a ring,” he said easily, as if he weren’t
announcing to someone who would most likely tell the town that they
were going to get hitched. Her cheeks flushed,
embarrassed.

“Whatever for?” she asked, her voice suddenly
tight.

“Claire has agreed to be my fiance,” he said
smoothly, looking down at Claire almost adoringly. She could sense
the subtle warning, though.

The woman froze, her perfectly
lipstick-slathered lips falling open. “But... But what about
Madison?”

Madison
?
Claire turned her head up at Logan, staring at him with confused
eyes. She didn’t say anything though. He stil had that look of
warning on his face.

“What about her?” he asked coolly,
moving away from the woman and taking Claire to one of the
showcases. From inside, rings of all shapes and sizes gleamed and
glittered. Watches and necklaces were doing the similar thing,
catching her attention and making her stare with awe. She’d always
loved getting jewelry from her father, loved how shiny and
beautiful the diamonds were against her skin. She was used to
necklaces, bracelets...but this was the first time she’d ever been
on the receiving end of a
ring
.

One of them immediately caught her
eye.

It had a silver band, with three
steeped diamonds on either side of center diamond, a gorgeous,
medium sized stone that practically
gleamed
. She stared at it, then looked
at the price.

She winced. She moved to the other
side of the showcases, to the cheaper rings. She knew Logan wasn’t
broke in the money department, but she wasn’t about to
make
him be. It was just a
small wedding, one that probably wouldn’t last very long, and she
didn’t want him to waste money on her when he didn’t need
to.

Logan came up behind her, his arm once again
going around her waist. This time, though, he put his chin against
her head and looked at them with her. “Why don’t we look at these
ones?” he asked, gesturing to the rings she had just been looking
at.

“No, I like these ones.”

He used his rough hand to tip her chin back,
making her look at him. “I don’t think you do, Claire.” When her
cheeks flushed, he chuckled and pecked her lips. The woman came
around the other side of the counter and glared at them -- more
specifically Claire.

“Logan,” she hissed, obviously
angered. Claire looked down at the rings awkwardly, not even
noticing any of them. The woman was clearly mad about
something
, but she had no
clue why she was angry at Claire specifically.

“Becky. I’m not here to talk about your
daughter. I’m here to look at rings with my fiance.” And then, with
his arm tightening around Claire, she had been dismissed. Claire
was tense.

Madison was this woman’s daughter?
How awkward, she thought, biting her lip. At least she wouldn’t
have to worry about Madison showing up at Logan’s just for
confirmation -- her mother would be sure to tell her. Claire hated
that she felt
happy
over Madison losing Logan. It was a cruel notion, but in her
mind, Madison had been thrown to the bottom and Claire had won --
even if the reasons were weird.

Becky stalked away, to the back room. Claire
and Logan were left alone, and she was glad. Claire wasn’t in a
horrible mood, and even though she was against marrying Logan, she
didn’t want her day to be ruined because of a pissed-off
mommy.