She took a pillow and placed it behind her back. “Michael called me late this afternoon. He got called to New York City. Something last minute. It’s not unusual.”

“The fucker left you alone with the baby?” I seethed.

She reached over and placed her hand on me. “Logan, he still doesn’t know anything about what happened yesterday. I hadn’t gotten a chance to tell him yet.”

The heat of her fingers on my thigh caused my pulse to race. I looked at where her hand was. My blood was roaring as the lust I was feeling coursed through my veins. She was trying to calm me down and instead I was getting aroused.

I shifted awkwardly in my seat. I couldn’t think while she was touching me. Needing to lose the connection, I shuffled to my feet.

I was such an asshole.

Elle quickly folded her hands together in her lap and I swear I saw a thankful look on her face. Had she done that without thinking? Did she feel what I felt?

Still way too close, the flames from the stoking fire were roaring. I glanced at her and hoped they would die soon. With a slight shake of my head and a step back, I refocused on what was important. “That’s bullshit. He shouldn’t be leaving you alone with his kid.”

What was his game? I’d seen him at the garage. What was on that paper? Did the fucker run?

She just stared at me like I was the crazy motherfucker.

Okay, so I was being a dick. I needed to let her finish. I drew in a breath. “Sorry, go on.”

She still looked at me.

I put a hand up. “I’m cool.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, Elle.” I tried to keep my voice tight.

“I might just be unnecessarily acting paranoid.”

“Tell me,” I urged.

“Well, after I picked up Clementine and we got to Michael’s house, my garage door opener was missing from the car.”

“And then what?” I asked her, impatient to get to it.

“I drove around to the front and noticed the lights were off. That’s unusual. They’re on a timer. I got out to check the house before I brought Clementine in and that’s when I saw someone inside. Or I think I did. I saw shadows moving in Michael’s office. I didn’t stick around to make sure. I just turned and ran. That’s when I fell.”

My heart in my throat, I hated to even ask this. “Was someone chasing you?”

She shook her head vehemently. “No, I didn’t see anyone. I didn’t go any farther than the walkway, though. As soon as I was certain I saw movement, I ran to my car and drove here. I’m sorry, Logan. I didn’t know what else to do.”

She was more scared than she was letting on. I went and sat beside her, closer this time. “Hey, don’t be sorry.”

“I didn’t know what else to do,” she repeated again.

Nothing mattered but making sure she knew she’d done the right thing. I took her face in my hands. “You did the right thing.”

We looked at each other.

Her lips parted. My breathing was heavy.

Was I really considering kissing her?

The knock on the door had me pulling my hands away. It saved me from making a dumb-ass move.

Elle, however, jumped.

“Hey . . . it’s okay, it’s just room service. I told you, you’re safe here,” I reassured her. I wasn’t being entirely honest. Yes, she was safe here, but she wasn’t safe with me. And somehow I had to tell her that.

The guy in white stood there with a tray. I didn’t let him past me. I searched the hallway, saw no one else, signed the slip, and then I wheeled the cart in myself. “Thanks,” I told him.

“Have a good night,” he replied.

With the door closed and locked up tight again, the first thing I did was grab a towel and pour some ice in it. Tying it up, I handed it to her. “Here, put this on your back.”

She took it and slid it behind her to rest on the pillow and then leaned on it. “Thank you.”

“Did you eat?” I asked, keeping my distance.

Close was bad. I couldn’t seem to control my libido.

“No, but I’m not hungry,” she answered.

Ignoring her comment, I took the plate of food and set it on her lap. “You should eat.”

She lifted the lid. “I’ll share it with you.”

My whole body tightened. Share. I could do that. Put the food between us. Keep my thoughts on what mattered. Back to mechanical steps, I put the milk in the refrigerator and brought two bottles of water over. I set them on the coffee table and sat down. Trying unsuccessfully to not really look at Elle, I grabbed the ketchup bottle and poured some out on the plate, then grabbed a fry. “Your turn.”

She pinched a fry and dipped it in the ketchup. She seemed calmer, more relaxed, and I was glad. “Can I ask you something?” she said after a few bites of the burger.

I leaned back on the couch and saw her eyes travel the length of me. My blood started pumping again. “Yeah, sure.” I shifted in my seat.

After chewing, she asked, “Are you related to Killian McPherson?”

I should have hesitated. I should have hated dirtying her with the knowledge. But I didn’t. It was a gateway into what I had to tell her anyway. And hopefully, once she knew, it would make her want to avoid any sexual involvement with me. She needed to stay close to me, though, until I knew she would be safe. I dropped my head but raised my eyes. “Yeah, he’s my grandfather.”

Stunned, she set the plate down. “Logan, are you in the Mafia?”

That was direct.

My head snapped up. “Fuck no.”

She didn’t look convinced.

Somehow, I found myself leaning toward her. It was like I was a magnet, drawn to her, no matter how much distance I put between us. “First of the all, the Mafia is Italian. The Mob is Irish. Not that it matters. But anyway, my grandfather and my father worked really hard to make sure I kept my distance. I’m not a part of that organization. And my father is just what I told you, Patrick’s legal counsel. Nothing more.”

She pulled the towel filled with ice from behind her back. The cubes started falling out. “Then why were you with him last night?”

I took the towel from her and scooped the cubes up. “Here, let me fix it.”

She shook her head. “It’s fine.” She was staring at me, waiting for me to explain.

There was no denying the way we’d crossed paths. “Things have changed recently for my old man, and I’ve been going with him on ‘calls’ whenever I can.” I tried to tell her as much as I could without telling her more than she needed to know.

She rubbed her fingers around her eyes. “Look, Logan, I already know my sister must have been involved with something really bad or Michael wouldn’t be jumping through hoops to try to fix it. And by doing so, I can only guess that now Michael is involved in something equally as dangerous. The question is, should I be worried for myself and Clementine?”

The towel was dripping on my pants, so I set it in on the table, and then I stupidly moved closer. “I’m not going to lie to you or try to make you feel better. I’m going to be honest. Yes, you should.”

“Now you’re really scaring me.”

“I don’t want to, but you need to understand how dangerous this situation is. What do you know about the drug ring?”

She pulled her legs up. “Nothing. I don’t know anything.”

My eyes met hers. Was she lying? I had no idea, but I chose to believe her and tell her what I could. “Patrick Flannigan, the guy who runs the organization my father works for, is the one that told my pop to pay O’Shea a visit. It was a warning, not a social call. Patrick is a dangerous man and his son, even more so. O’Shea might not realize it, but he is in over his head. You have to believe me about this, Elle.”

She sat still, as if absorbing my every word.

“What’s he doing? What’s his plan?”

My question jarred her. She twitched a bit and then reached for a bottle of water. “I don’t know.”

I narrowed my eyes at her.

“I don’t. He doesn’t tell me anything.”

That only made the guy a bigger ass in my eyes. I took a deep breath. “Any chance you can take Clementine and get out of town for a week or so?”