Relief coursed through me and I could see Sean visibly sag in his own relief.

“It seems the DEA was following Logan and he didn’t catch the tail. They broke into the room when Logan was with Tommy before Logan could talk to Tommy.”

Step by step, I made my way to the table and sat down.

Sean did the very same thing.

Walking toward the sink, Miles spoke. “Whenever you’re ready to go, Elle, I’ll take you to your townhouse.”

I didn’t have to ask why. I knew what that meant. Logan hadn’t accomplished whatever it was he set out to do. And he had arranged this as his backup plan. The walls had gone up. He wasn’t coming back until I was gone.

I had no choice in the matter.

I was too raw from the night’s events to discuss anything any further. Sitting for a short while, I made myself get my things and let Miles drive me home.

Once there, I escaped to my room. Just wanting to shut everything out, I lay back on my bed. I had Michael to deal with, but it was too early to call him.

Michael O’Shea was the brother-in-law I never knew I had up until three months ago, and his daughter was the niece I fell in love with at first sight. It was because of her that I decided to leave the gypsy-like lifestyle I’d adopted and move to Boston. It was also because of her that I’d done what I’d done and Michael had done what he’d done.

The catalyst for coming to Boston was my missing sister, Lizzy, who still hadn’t returned to her husband and daughter. The last time I saw her was fifteen years ago when she walked away from me. My hope was now that the danger had passed, she’d turn up and maybe we could repair our damaged relationship.

Just as I closed my eyes, my phone started to ring. For one second, I thought maybe it was Logan, but I knew it wouldn’t be. Holding a breath, I looked at my screen. It was Michael’s name on it.

Nerves rattled me. Did he check with the delivery service and know the cocaine had actually been delivered last night? They were one of those third-party services and my hope was that the fly-by-night guys wouldn’t be able to be reached directly. Was I wrong? Did Michael know about Logan? About what he’d done?

“Hello,” I answered, trying to swallow my nervousness.

“Hi, it’s me. I just wanted to check with you and see if you’ve seen the news?”

“Yes, I have.” I kept my response short.

“I’m glad the delivery never arrived. It seems somehow the DEA got wind of it and intervened.”

Details weren’t given on where the product was found, so Michael really didn’t have a clue. “Does that mean everything will be okay and Clementine is out of danger?”

“I hope so. With the Blue Hill Gang behind bars, I think whatever Lizzy did will be the least of their concern.”

I really didn’t want to talk about this. There was so much I wanted to know, but not while lying to Michael. Changing gears, I asked, “Do you think Lizzy will come home now?”

“I don’t know, Elle. Listen, I have to run and get Clementine from my sister’s. I’ll call you later.”

“Yes, of course. Give her a kiss for me.”

He hung up. That was strange. I was worried about my lies, but he seemed so preoccupied, I didn’t have to be.

With that behind me, and while Miles worked on increasing security, I sat on my bed and pondered what I should do about Logan.

I thought long and hard, remembering my conversation with his father—“be patient with my son.” With his words fresh in my mind, I tried to call Logan.

He didn’t answer.

I didn’t leave a message because I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say.

And he didn’t call me back, either.

By ten A.M. , I knew I couldn’t sit around anymore. It was Friday, and I had to get to my newly opened boutique, The House of Sterling.

Logan must have been in touch with Miles, because he insisted on driving me to work and spending the day with me. Knowing that, I was certain Logan would call or text or something.

Nothing.

Miles drove me home, and later that evening after he finished working on my security system, he left assuring me I would be locked safely inside. I was just about to head upstairs and go to bed when there was a knock on my door. Startled, my heartbeat sped up, but then I chastised myself for thinking it would be anyone who’d come here to harm me. It was probably just Miles. Perhaps he had forgotten something. But a peek through the peephole told me it was Logan.

Right away, confusion clouded my thoughts. He hadn’t called all day. Why was he here now? My heart was already in a tangle and my mind was a web of questions. Seeing him wasn’t going to help me figure out what to do.

I should have known Miles had left for a reason.

Staring at Logan, anger threatening to erupt but need overtaking me, I debated whether or not to let him in. I hated that he’d given up on us so easily. I wanted him to fight his fear of what might happen. Don’t get me wrong, I understood I could be in danger, but I truly believed Tommy was using that fear to further ruin Logan’s life.

“Elle, it’s me,” he said, his voice low, husky.

Uncertain, I stood behind the door considering my options. I knew what would happen when I opened the door. I’d see him—his knowing eyes, his hard square jaw, his even harder body, and just like that, I’d let him off the hook for thinking I was safer without him. I’d melt like the schoolgirl I knew better than to be. It would be that simple. But our situation wasn’t that simple. It was so much more complicated. And I hated that it was.

The knocking persisted until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I longed to see him, to smell him, to touch him. I didn’t want to be apart from him.

“Elle, please.” His voice broke.

My heart stilled at the sound of his tone. He was the stronger one, my protector, and yet right now, the dauntless, fearless man needed me and I couldn’t shut him out no matter how much I knew I should. The truth was, deep in my heart, I knew there was no way this thing between us was going to end well. He just wasn’t willing to accept that he wasn’t responsible for my safety, and that fact was going to continue to eat at him and destroy us.

Still, I couldn’t turn him away.

All I could do was hope that I was strong enough to make this work for the both of us.

With a shaky hand, I opened the door and there he stood, all male, all need, all hard and yet soft. With his head down and his sorrowful, regretful hazel eyes blazing into mine, I was his. Any sense of self-preservation I had been feeling vanished.

“I’m sorry,” he said, stepping toward me and putting his hands on my hips.

Even upset with him, my body flared to life. Lust and love and something that felt a lot like my own fear swirled around me like a mini tornado. I wanted to push him. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to punch him. I wanted to fuck him. I settled for throwing my arms around him. I needed to touch him. To comfort him, as odd as that sounds. With my mouth unbearably close to his ear, I whispered, “Don’t shoulder this situation we’re in on your own.”

He buried his head in my neck. “I can’t think straight. I’m so fucking worried about you.”

Oh God, that ache in his voice killed me. My fingers threaded through his hair and as I touched him, I breathed him in. All Logan. All everything I never knew I wanted but now needed so very desperately.

Moments passed. Seconds. Maybe minutes. I knew I had to push him away. I had to talk to him with a clear head and I warred with myself until I finally did. “Logan, I’ll be all right. I can take care of myself.”