Logan's Woman (17 page)

She paused, grimacing.

“How old were you when your mother died? You
said she was in a car accident,” he hedged, running his hands up
her back and massaging her shoulders gently.

“I was seven. My father was just starting to
run for Senate -- the accident killed him inside, though. He didn’t
run again until I was sixteen and spoiled out of my butthole,” she
laughed, covering her mouth. She sobered as she continued. “He
mourned her for so long, I didn’t think he would ever get over it.
He didn’t, however, try to get the man who killed her put in jail
for life. He’d been drunk, but he told me that when he got to the
hospital, the man that had crashed into her was sobbing and
praying.

“My father isn’t a heartless man. Just because
he’s a polititan doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a heart,” she said to
him firmly. “He let the law take it’s natural course and he only
got put into jail for five years, even helped pay for a good
attourny. It was a freak accident,” she tried, her voice tinged
with slight anger.

“You don’t like that?” he asked, moving his
hands up her neck, fingers loosening all of the noughts there. She
tiled her head back, letting out a rush of air.

“Why would I? That man took my mother away from
me. I had to grow up without her. I never got to go shopping with
her. She never got to tell me about what would happen when I first
got my period”-- he winced -- “and she will never be allowed to
come to my wedding.”

Pain lacerated her heart at the last reason.
The more she thought about it, the more she realized she’d missed
out on -- even with her aunt as a guide and her doting father.
“She’ll never get to see me walk down an aisle in a white dress,”
she whispered, turning her face into Logan’s chest.

“When your father’s election is done,” he
murmured against her temple, kissing her there lightly, “we’ll
throw you a proper wedding. Dress, cake, guests,
everything.”

Feeling her heart turn over in her chest at his
words, she looked up at him with sad eyes.

“Really?”

Logan nodded, his voice a promise as he said,
“Swear it.”

Chapter 16

Wednesday came quickly -- way too fast for
Claire to catch up with.

She was now waiting in the car with Frank,
heart pounding, hands sweating, and feeling very unsure of
herself.

Instead of picking out a dress, she had gotten
something less extravagant. It was a form-flattering. white skirt
and blouse ensemble. The skirt was a high-rise, hugging her waist
comfortably, and the blouse was silk, button-up. It was a modest
yet elegant outfit, and she felt that it was perfect for today. Her
hair was coiled on top of her head, just a few strands curling down
her face. It left her long neck visible and her eyes looked twice
as large as they normally did.

Because of her hair or her fear, she didn’t
know.

“Just a few more minutes and we can get goin’,”
Frank said, putting his wrist down after looking at the old,
weathered watch that he never went anywhere without.

She knew Logan had told him to keep her in the
car till a certain time, but she had no clue why. It wasn’t an
actual wedding for Christ Sakes -- it was just a ceremony in front
of a judge that was going to give Logan all sorts of rights to her
body... She shivered despite herself.

Claire didn’t know if she liked the thought or
not.

Frank pat her hand with his rough one. “Don’t
worry, g’il. It’ll be good, just you wait. Logan might not seem
like a nice boy, but when ya’ get to know ‘im? He’s a great one.”
He even winked at her.

She tried to smile back at him, but her nerves
wouldn’t let her. “I know he’s a great man. It’s just the fact that
I haven’t even graduated college and I’m getting married to a man
almost twice my age...”

Frank waved a hand at her. “In those
sophisticated cities, somethin’ like this is very unheard of. I
know you’re worryin’, but stop. It’s common out here. We’re plain
folk and we love new family. Age is but a number as long as ye’
love someone.” His chest puffed up a bit. “Why, I myself married a
girl some years younger than me -- and she was the prettiest,
nicest thing I ever did lay eyes on...”

He paused, smiling at her. “We were married for
forty years. She was twenty and I was thirty-five. Much like you
and Logan are.”

She felt a little more at ease and actually
managed a smile. “You aren’t married anymore?”

His face fell some, and she felt bad for asking
until his lips lifted. “She died just a couple years ago. Breast
cancer.”

His eyes held a sadness that was soul-deep, and
his voice didn’t sound much better either. Her hand raised to her
mouth and she bit back a gasp. “I’m so sorry... You must have loved
her a lot...”

“If I could have traded my life for hers, I
would have.” He looked at her point blank. “And don’t you dare
think for a second that Logan wouldn’t do the same for you as
well.”

Claire felt her face pale.
He knew...

She looked out of the window, just in time to
see a young man dressed in black robes step from the entrance of
the brick building.

“Well, let’s get the show goin’,” he said,
opening up his door. “Logan won’t be wantin’ to wait much longer
for ‘is bride!”

He turned as the oak door opened. Sunlight
poured into the room first, and then the vision of an angel came
through the door. His heart nearly stopped in his chest as the
light shone around her, casting a shadow into the room.

“Ah...” he cleared his throat, crossing his
arms over his chest, trying to act natural. God, she looked
beautiful. Her liquid blue eyes, slim body, beautiful
personality... The only thing he could think was wrong about today
was that he wasn’t giving her an actual wedding -- but he would be
soon.

He’d be damned if he let her out of his arms
for the rest of their lives.

Logan stopped listening to the director and
gave Claire his full attention. She met his eyes, a blush forming
on her pale cheeks. He couldn’t help but smile at her, and the
closer she got to him, the harder his heart pounded.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked
him with wide eyes, coming up beside him. He could see how badly
she was shaking and slipped his hand through hers, his thundering
chest finally calming down.

“More than sure. After this, we’re
going out to eat and then,” -- he bent down, pressing his lips to
her temple, whispering -- “I’m taking you to
our
bed.”

She gasped softly, enough that only he could
hear her. He didn’t care that the whole room was watching them, or
that Claire looked so adorably shy. He only cared about giving her
the best day he could -- and that included relaxing her. Slowly,
the shaking left her body and instead she was looking up at him
with soft heat in her eyes.

He stared down at her.

“Are we gonna get this goin’, or are we gonna
stare at each other for the rest of the day?” Frank broke in,
causing Claire’s face to turn pink.

Logan raised a brow at Frank and then gestured
to the pastor to begin.

His speech was short, Claire and Logan gave
their generic vows, and then the words finally came. “You may now
kiss the bride.”

Logan just meant to bend down a peck her lips.
He understood how shy and proper she could be in front of other
people, so he didn’t expect much from her. Except, when he bent his
head to her lips, her arms wound around his neck and she was
kissing him full-on.

Shocked, he stood still for a second -- a very
short second. His arms came around her waist and his lips moved
with hers, and soon they were the only ones in the room. Her mouth
was soft, willing, open for him as he dominated her and showed her
how much he craved her through that one simple kiss.

She finally pulled back, gasping for breath,
but her arms never left his neck. He leaned his forehead against
hers, closing his eyes. In a desire-deepened voice, he growled,
“You’re mine now, Claire.” He slid the wedding ring onto her left
ring finger, and she did the same -- no one cared that it was
against tradition to put the rings on last.

Blue eyes locked on his. “That means you’re
mine as well, Logan.”

He smirked. “I have no problem with that at
all.”

Several people cleared their throats, and Logan
looked at each of them. Darla had agreed to be a witness, as well
as Frank. Everyone else who had shown up hadn’t been invited, but
in such a small town, no one needed an invite to a wedding
ceremony. If they knew, they would come.

“I think it’s time to leave.” Then, in front of
everyone, he slid his arm under her knees and one around her back.
She squealed, grabbing his shoulders as he began to walk from the
room with her in his arms.

“Have fun!” Frank shouted. The whole room burst
into laughter, but Logan didn’t notice.

He was too busy planning out how to kiss every
inch of her body in the longest amount of time possible.

Chapter 17

“What do you mean, she’s with a
man?”

“‘
Sactly what I said. She’s sitting
at a dim table, lookin’ all nice, sitting across from a
man.
” Carl hated when he
had to repeat himself. There she was, sure as the sun, sitting in
front of a dark-lookin’ man. He had a stern look on his face, yet
hers was bright. Happy.

He tilted his head, examining her,
forgetting about the voice on the other end of the phone until his
name was snapped. “
Carl
. You have the right girl?”

“Aye. She’s blonde, blue-eyed, and looks a lot
like a dead little Senator daughter.”

There was a pause. Then a sharp, “What are they
doing.”

“Ahh...” Carl scratched his chin, frowning
more. He leaned over the table and studied them. “Looks like
they’re...talkin’.”

“Just talking?” The voice sounded
dubious.

“Yep. Talkin’.”

“About what?”

“I ain’t that close that I can hear ‘em,” he
muttered.

“Get closer!”

“I can’t. Want me to be seen?”

“It’s not like she knows who you are!” Joey
snarled. There was a thump in the background, then an angry curse.
“What’s the guy look like.”

“Tall, dark --”

“Don’t you dare say ‘handsome’.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” he growled, sinking
back into his chair and picking as his Spaghetti. “I was gonna say
he looks familiar. Like I’ve seen him somewhere.”

“Television?”

Carl mulled it over, trying to think. He didn’t
watch much TV anymore, so it wasn’t that. “Maybe she found
protection.”

“Kill him, too, then.”

“I don’t think that would be a good
idea, till I find out who he is.” Carl might be dumber than a pile
of rocks, but he knew how to kill and how to do it right. And
taking out someone important, when not warranted, was
not
in the rule
book.

“Take a picture and send it to me. I can have
my guys do a search on him. I’ll call you when I get the
info.”

Joey hung up without letting Carl
speak. But he flipped the crappy payphone open and, after making
sure no one was watching him, took a quick pic of the guys face. He
wasn’t close enough to hear what they were talking about
completely, but he
was
close enough to hear the low murmur of his voice. Carl felt
jealous ripple through him.

Not only did he have Ms. Campbell, but he had a
normal, manly voice. Carl touched his throat gingerly, then with
narrowed eyes sent the picture to Joey. He took a bite of his
spaghetti and listened to the sound of their voices. Ms. Campbells,
soft yet luring, innocent. The mysterious man’s voice, dark, low,
masculine. Listening to them only made him angrier.

Carl was prepared to sit there and simmer, but
his phone started to buzz on the table. He picked it up and
answered, Joey the only one who had the number to the
phone.

“Carl
,” Joey
snapped. That’s all he ever did though. Irate, Carl grunted into
the phone.

“You recognize him from somewhere? That’s Logan
Marshal. Previous Ex-OPS commander.”

Oh. Fuck. That.

Carl stared at the man. He looked different.
Hair cut. Buffer. Darker ‘because of the sun. And he lived in this
hick town? The man who had put Carl and his fellow cons into jail?
He breathed out slowly. Calm. Had to stay calm.

“Are you sure,” he asked into the phone, even
though he knew the answer. Carl watched as Logan leaned across the
table. Ms. Campbell did the same, swirling locks of her hair
sliding over her shoulders. The commander lifted his hand, brushing
it over her cheek.

The candlelight glinted off of the commanders
finger. Claire lifted her left hand and captured his, looking at
him like he was the only one in the room. Her finger also
glinted.