Dirty Dealers

Logan

Kass is blind.

Blind.

I’m still reeling from the revelation.

Don’t get me wrong. It changes nothing about how I feel about her. If anything, my feelings have intensified… But I don’t know how to handle this knowledge. It’s like a sucker-punch to my most vulnerable, basic instinct.

Protect, guard… these things are my life. Can I ever go back to the palace and leave her alone—especially knowing what’s out there? Especially knowing the kinds of maniacs we deal with, and their expertise at finding our weaknesses. She’ll be a sitting duck.

Jesus! I think about that shitty apartment building where she lives. I walked right in off the street, and she never even saw me coming. She almost ran right past me in the stairwell, but I caught her, backed her against the wall, and kissed her. I could’ve been any intruder grabbing her that way.

Her initial shock makes a hell of a lot more sense now. It’s a wonder she didn’t mace me.

I’m a fucking asshole.

She needs a can of mace.

Sunlight streams through the window, and she’s right here, curled at my side, her pale blonde hair spread around us on the pillow. Dark lashes touch the tops of her cheeks. She’s so damn beautiful. She’s ethereal, and she looks so young with her face relaxed in sleep. I want to touch her, but I don’t want to wake her.

She’s the same girl I knew that summer, yet she’s different. She’s stronger, better. I try to remind myself she’s survived this long without my help. At the same time, I know how fast she could

be taken from me. I can’t help wondering if she’s already a target.

I’m breathing harder as my protective anger rises. Just let anyone try to lay a hand on her. I’ll break their necks. At the same time, I’m going to have a fucking aneurysm whenever she’s out of my sight. What the hell… I already tried to resign, but Rowan wouldn’t accept it.

How can I protect Kass and Ava at the same time?

Maybe I can get her a dog. A badass dog, like a Rottweiler or a German Shepherd…

“What’s wrong?” Kass’s soft voice pulls me from my spiraling thoughts.

Her slim brow wrinkles as she rolls onto her back and holds out her hand. I take it and pull it to my lips. She immediately pushes into a sitting position and holds out the other one. “Can I touch your face?”

Her hair hangs in pretty, messy waves around her shoulders, and her eyes are downcast. I kiss her hand again with all the warmth I feel. “Of course you can.”

Her brow relaxes, and a little smile curls her lips. She carefully places her fingers on my cheeks, sliding them up to my brow before moving them down to my jaw, where she rakes her fingernails through my beard.

“You’re angry. Why?”

My hands circle her waist, and I pull her onto my lap in a straddle, burying my face in her neck. She squeals a little laugh and wraps her slim arms around my neck as I kiss her collarbone.

“Your beard tickles,” she sighs, and I’m getting hard.

I speak between a kiss to the top of her shoulder. “I’m not angry.”

“You were breathing fast, your body is tense, and I can feel you frowning. Don’t lie to me, Logan Hunt.” The gentle reproving tone in her voice makes me catch her cheeks, pulling her mouth to mine. Even after all the times we made love last night, I want her again.

“Oh!” She struggles to break free. “Don’t kiss me. I’ve got morning breath!”

That makes me laugh, and I kiss her anyway, albeit a closed-mouth kiss, warm and tender against those soft pink lips. Her eyes flutter closed, and I feel her smile just before she scoots back.

“Tell me why you’re angry.”

“I’m trying to remember,” I tease. “Were you always this stubborn?”

Her head tilts to the side as if she’s thinking. “Probably not. I’ve changed since we’ve been apart.”