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Scanning her list of things to bring from the office, she found the last item unchecked: the binder with all the notes from the last retreat, which sat neatly on the top shelf of her bookcase.
There were few things as precarious as trying to navigate a step stool in Louboutins, but Addison wasn’t about to let OH&S get in the way of her love for a good pair of high heels. She climbed to the top of the stool, her fingers reaching for the thick binder. Of course, the one thing she needed was on the highest shelf. Wasn’t that always the way?
“You know, I’m not sure I ever believed in heaven,” a deep voice said. “But my dad always told me I’d find the answer to my questions if I looked up to God.”
* * *
LOGAN DANE LEANED against the door frame to his partner’s office, a smirk tugging at his lips. Any chance to throw Addison off guard was not to be missed. Although truth be told, a chance to torture himself with the vision of her amazing legs was not to be missed, either.
“I’ve got good aim, Logan. Don’t make me throw something at you.”
Instead of coming down, she leaned farther forward, causing her fitted pencil skirt to ride higher up the backs of her legs. His breath caught in his throat when a sliver of lace revealed that her stockings stopped midthigh. Sweet mother of all things holy.
Between the tight skirt, the black lace and the candy-red soles on her shoes, it was a picture fit for a dirty dream.
Yeah, ’cause the thing you need right now is another image of Addison to avoid fantasizing over. Don’t you have enough guilt on your shoulders already?
“I’d like to see you try,” he said.
She retrieved a binder and climbed down, making a show of smoothing out the wrinkles on her skirt. Her red nails matched the underside of her heels.
“Did you want something, Logan? Or are you just here to ogle my legs?”
He cleared his throat. “I wasn’t—”
“Sure you weren’t.”
Busted. “I can’t help it. You’ve got some damn fine pins.”
Shaking her head, she bent down and picked up her bag from the floor. This time he kept his eyes away from her ass. Willpower, when he had it, was a wonderful thing.
“You all ready for the retreat on Monday?” she asked, ignoring his comment. “We’ve got an early start.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be on time.”
“No, be early.” She gathered up her organizer and slid it into her bag. “I’ll need help setting up for the first session.”
“Yes, ma’am. Anything else you want me to do, Miss Bossy Boots?” He walked into her office and placed his palms on her desk. “As if it isn’t bad enough you’ll be talking numbers at me all through the retreat.”
“Just arrive in one piece.” Her eyes flickered over him, sending a trail of heat straight from his chest to his groin. “I’m not sure what your weekend plans are, but I don’t want you rolling up hungover and with lipstick on your collar.”
He’d done that once, and she’d never let him live it down, though he absolutely deserved the censure. He hadn’t been subtle when he’d started dating his ex. But he’d put a stop to that soon after—no more women, no more fooling around. Still, Addison had kept her distance ever since.
“I wouldn’t let the staff see me in that state.” He pressed his hand to his chest. “You know that.”
“Oh right, to them you’ve got to be the Big Bad Wolf.” She continued packing her bag without looking up, her long golden hair slipping over her shoulder to conceal her expression. “Lucky me, getting to see the real you.”
He detected the slightest waver in her voice, undercutting the otherwise frosty tone. The show with his ex had been partly for Addison’s benefit, though it was hard to keep reminding himself he’d done the right thing by them both. Knowing that he’d hurt her so badly made him feel like a bastard.
“You’re one of the lucky few, Addi.”
“I count my blessings,” she said drily. “Anyway, I’m heading off early. Got to make a head start down to the cottage before this traffic gets insane.”
“You sure you don’t want a weekend guest?”
“Absolutely positively one hundred percent sure.” A smile twitched on her lips, and his heartbeat kicked up a notch. “I’m going to sit in the hot tub until my hands turn to prunes. I’m going to drink wine and do yoga and be totally peaceful. No one is going to ruin that for me, especially not you.”
“Message received.”
Despite his best effort to keep his mind on the business retreat, a thought skittered through his brain like a pebble skipping over a pond. Was she the bikini type, or would she wear something more sophisticated in the hot tub? Black or white? Or something colorful?
Would it have one of those string tie-ups that could be easily loosened with a single—
“I said is there anything else you need before I go?” She hoisted her bag over one shoulder and picked up a box of supplies with retreat neatly printed on the side in black marker.
“Nope, I just came in here to wind you up.”
She shook her head. “Now that’s the first honest thing you’ve said to me all day.”
“I said you had great pins,” he corrected as he held the door for her. “I stand by that.”
She muttered something under her breath as she walked past him, but he caught a rueful smile on her lips.
They had an odd relationship. But he’d take their strange mix of teasing and power struggles over not having her around any day. Addison was one of the few people who meant something to him.
Just remember that next time you get tempted to take a closer look at those pins, Dane. She’s off-limits. One slip does not make it okay to go back for seconds.
Her tinkling laughter carried through the open-plan office as she stopped to say goodbye to her team. One of the young guys in accounts took the box from her hands and could barely keep his tongue in his mouth as he escorted her to the elevators. Logan’s fists clenched instinctively.
Sure, he knew she was off-limits, but that didn’t mean he could stand the thought of someone else touching her. Having her. He was all too familiar with how good she felt, how her body reacted to the barest touch. She was sensitive in the best way possible, and he’d given in to her all too easily once.
“Never again,” he muttered under his breath, turning away from the sight of her and the young staff member before he said something he would regret. “She’s not yours.”
A few minutes later, Logan was knee-deep in work. Running Cobalt & Dane kept him busy, and Friday afternoons were no exception. Besides, Addison would have the team on a tight leash during the retreat next week, which meant he needed to be on top of things before finishing up for the weekend. He’d never quite understood the necessity of taking time off to discuss boring stuff like financials and recruiting strategy—surely that was a job for all those bean counters he’d hired at Addison’s request.
A knock at his office door pulled him out of his thoughts.
“Logan?” Rhys leaned in, a wary expression on his face. “You got a second?”
“Sure.” Logan motioned for him to enter. “What’s going on?”
“I’m concerned about an email we received. I took it to Addison and she asked me not to bother you because of the retreat next week, but...”
Logan frowned. “But?”
“Here.” Rhys slid a piece of paper across the table. “I think we need to be worried about this.”
Logan scanned the email, his fingers gripping the paper tighter and tighter as he read until it crumpled under the pressure. His instinct was to lash out, to curse Addison and Rhys for not bringing this to him right away. But this was his fault. He knew why Addison didn’t want him involved—and it wasn’t because of the retreat. It was because he’d put distance between them and now she was teaching him a lesson.
“Have there been any other emails like this?” he asked, smoothing the paper down flat on his desk.
“Not that we’ve seen. I’ve put a flag on this email address so I’ll know if he tries to contact anyone in the company from this point on.” Rhys bobbed his head. “Addison isn’t worried about this guy, but I don’t think we can ignore him.”
“You should have come to me first.” Logan raked a hand through his hair.
The vile words glared up at him from the paper, the threats waving at him like giant red flags. How could Addison have thought this was nothing?
Because she’d rather prove herself to be independent than come to you for help.
“It’s addressed to her, Logan. What would she have done if I took it you first?” He threw his hands up in the air. “I get that you two have this weird tug-of-war thing going on, but I’m sick of walking on eggshells around you two instead of doing my job.”
“If you see anything else like this come in, you come to me. Got it?” He banged his fist down on the desk. “I don’t care if the email says ‘top fucking secret, for Addison’s eyes only’ in big bold letters.”
Rhys sighed. “Fine. But you’ll have to back me up when she flips out.”
“If she’s alive and well enough to be shouting, then I’m happy.”
He’d promised Addison’s father—the man who’d been his boss and his mentor—that he would always look out for her. That he would keep her safe from this crazy, screwed-up world they lived in. Only once had he broken that vow. One night two years ago, when his willpower had failed him and he’d given in to the desire he’d managed to keep at bay for almost a decade.
“I’ve got my team looking into the sender’s details,” Rhys said. “But I’m not sure how much we’ll be able to turn up from a webmail account. People don’t usually use their real details, especially if they’re planning to send emails like this.”
“Just find out whatever you can.”
Rhys nodded. “You know she’s going to be all by herself this weekend, right?”
“No, she’s not.” Logan folded the printed email up small enough to fit in his pocket. “Addison is going to have a guest at the cottage, whether she likes it or not.”
2 (#ulink_9d11d0f6-2fb5-50d8-9005-ba42a5b42172)
ADDISON ROLLED HER shoulders as she settled in for the last leg of her journey. After driving for more than three hours, her muscles were desperate for a stretch, and she wanted something to eat that wasn’t birdseed masquerading as an energy bar. Thankfully, it wouldn’t be long until she reached her father’s cottage on Cayuga Lake. Then she could reheat the lasagna she’d prepared last night and crack open a bottle of wine. Her stomach grumbled at the thought of a hot meal.
“Just a little farther,” she said to her reflection in the rearview mirror. As if in response, her phone vibrated. “Again, Logan?”
He’d been calling every half hour or so since she’d made it through Newark. Despite ignoring him because her phone’s hands-free unit wasn’t hooked up, it had become clear he had a bee in his bonnet. That was Logan in a nutshell: dogged persistence.
Addison pulled over at a gas station and killed the engine so she could answer the phone. “Okay, crazy person. What’s going on?”
“Where are you?”
She pushed the door open and got out of the car. The air was balmy with summer warmth and she took the opportunity to get the blood flowing through her limbs. “I’m on my way to the cottage.”
“No, I mean specifically.” There was an urgency in his voice that made the hairs on her arms stand on end.
She told him the name of the gas station as she walked through its doors. Bright, harsh lighting made her squint and she was hit with a chilly blast of air-conditioning. If Logan was going to hold her up, she may as well grab a drink.
“What’s going on?” she asked as she opened the door to the refrigerator, stilling at the bellowing sound of a semi’s horn on the other end of the line. “Are you on the road?”
Silence.
“Logan Matthew Dane, you better tell me what the hell is going on right now.” She grabbed a Diet Coke and marched to the cashier. The man behind the counter eyed her warily as she handed the money over to him with what must have been a murderous look in her eyes. “If you intend on ruining my relaxing weekend I swear to God—”
“I saw the email.”
She groaned. “Then tell Rhys he’s fired. I mean it, turn around right now and go fire him.”
“That might be difficult.”
Addison wedged the phone between her ear and her shoulder so she could open her drink. “Why would that be difficult?”
“I’m already on the interstate.”
Goddammit. “You’re coming to the cottage?”
She walked out of the gas station, shaking her head. If Logan showed up tonight she would send him straight back home. Or at the very least, to the nearest town. Spending the weekend alone with Logan Dane was not in her plans.
“I’ll be there shortly,” he said. “And don’t take it out on Rhys. He did the right thing.”
“So the right thing is not listening to his boss when she gives him a direct order?” She leaned against her car and tipped her drink up to her lips. “I know for damn sure you wouldn’t let anyone pull that shit on you.”
Another car had driven into the gas station, and the guy gave Addison a sleazy once-over as he filled the tank of his red truck. Grimacing, she turned away.
“That’s beside the point. In this case, we need to take precautions.” Logan sighed. “I realize this isn’t what you had planned for the weekend. But the cottage is huge. You won’t even know I’m there. Unless of course you think my presence is too strong for you to ignore...”
“Your ego is too strong for me to ignore.”
“Ahh, come on. I’m looking out for you, Addi. I promised your dad—”
“I remember what you promised him. But you’re all overreacting. There is no threat. That email was sent days ago, and if Rhys hadn’t found it we’d be none the wiser.” She screwed the cap back onto her drink. “And I would be about to enjoy a peaceful weekend without having you around to bug me.”
“I won’t apologize for being careful when it comes to your well-being.”
She wanted to ask why he thought her well-being was his business. Or his responsibility. But she already knew the answer to that. Two years ago, during her father’s final hospital visit—the cancer eating away at his frail body—he’d passed the baton for her protection over to Logan. It was bad enough that he’d chosen Logan to fill his shoes as the head of Cobalt & Dane, but he hadn’t even trusted her to take care of herself.
“Don’t go into the cottage until I get there,” he added. “Wait in your car and keep the doors locked. I’m not far behind you.”
Gritting her teeth, she ended the call and slid into the driver’s seat. This weekend was going to be a freaking nightmare.
On the bright side, at least now she could count on Logan being at the retreat on time. A wicked smile curved on her lips. If he wanted to play protector all weekend, then she’d give him something productive to do. He hated spreadsheets with a passion, so she’d hand him some of the biannual forecasts to read. That should keep him busy.
She turned the engine over and flicked on her headlights. The sun had dropped significantly since she’d arrived at the gas station. It would be pitch-black soon, and the cottage would be dark. Secluded.
What if Logan and Rhys were right? A shiver raced the length of her spine.
“There’s no stalker, just like there’s no bogeyman,” she reminded herself. “There’s no zombies, no killer llamas, no Freddy Krueger and no...whatever the hell that thing was in Donnie Darko.”
But the words didn’t comfort her. A tiny seed of fear had been planted by the email, and now it was flourishing under Logan’s paranoia. She tapped the lock button and with a click, all four doors secured her inside. Shaking her head, she cursed herself for letting Logan get to her.
As she pulled onto the empty road leading toward the cottage, her lights swept across the horizon. Tall trees rushed past her windows in a blur of deep green. Growing up, the cottage had been her happy place—a haven where she’d spent time with her father and did all the things his busy schedule ordinarily excluded. Like fishing, inspecting butterflies and making homemade pizza.
