Page 15 of Logan

“Gonna have problems? Clue in,Ms.Sanders, we’ve already got problems. Where’s your vehicle?”

Pinching her lips together, she jerked her head toward the window. “I parked on the cul-de-sac. It’s the Fusion. It was the only energy-efficient car I could rent. Everything else was a gas-guzzling truck or?—”

“Okay, fine.”

Her fists landed on her hips as her eyes flashed. “What the hell is your problem? I was told to come to this house, get settled, and meet my partner tomorrow. Which, I might add, made no sense to me because you obviously have a vehicle. You didn’t need me to pick you up.”

“Settled? Get settled?” he growled, his eyes narrowing even further as he took in more of the room. He noted that her suitcase had exploded toiletries on top of the chest of drawers. “Why the hell would you need to get settled in my house?”

Blinking, she snapped her brows together and stepped back, her hands dropping to her sides. “How else are we supposed to work together? I was told we would live here, pretend to be a married couple, and investiga?—”

“Pretend to be a married couple?” Logan’s voice rose with each word as the blood rushing through his veins caused a buzzing in his ears greater than one of his helicopter rides. “Hell, no.” Turning on his booted heel, he stalked from the room, pulling out his secure phone. He was pissed, but at the moment wasn’t sure who would bear the brunt of his frustration. Donald, for orchestrating the situation, or the woman he’d left back inhisbedroom.

He walked into the front room, his phone pressed to his ear. “Mary, what did you know about the biologist I was meetingwith, who appears to be planning on staying in the house with me?”

“Nothing, Logan. Mr. Markham was very closed-off about the security surrounding this mission.”

“Who’s available there?”

He heard lowered voices in the room, and Cole came on the line.

“What’s going on, Logan? No one here knew any more than you about the mission. Do you need backup? I can fly?—”

“No.” He sighed. “I’m fine. But get whatever you can on Vivian Sanders. She’s the biologist. I’ll talk to Donald, then I’ll be in touch. Tell Casper the truck is just what I needed.”

“You got it,” Cole agreed.

Disconnecting, he dialed Donald. “You know this is not how I work.”

A few seconds of silence passed before Donald said, “Look, Logan. I knew you wouldn’t have a problem working with a woman, but I also knew you’d balk at the idea of the subterfuge.”

“Subterfuge? Hell, I’ve worked missions with more subterfuge than you can ever imagine. But I never had to pretend to be married to someone?—”

“Then consider it a new experience.”

“You’re fucking kidding me, right? This is not how I work?—”

Donald’s voice hardened. “You took the mission; now see it through. Vivian Sanders is there to work with you and provide cover. Otherwise, you’d be too suspicious on your own.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed deeply. Donald was right. This was just an assignment. One that he wished he’d been fully briefed on before agreeing—a mistake he wouldn’t make in the future for any of his Keepers. “Fine. Consider it done.”

“Good. I knew I could count on you.”

Logan could swear he heard Donald chuckle before he disconnected. Turning, he watched Vivian make her way down the hall to the front room. Lifting his phone, he snapped her picture. Sending it to both Donald and Mary, he texted for them to verify that she was Vivian Sanders.

He and Vivian stood silently, staring at each other. When his phone indicated messages received, he looked down. Donald confirmed. Mary also confirmed, then, in an uncharacteristic manner, she sent a wide-eyed emoji. Another message came from Mary.Do I need to make alternate housing arrangements for Ms. Sanders?

For a moment, Logan almost confirmed, then he sighed and typed,Negative.Shoving his phone back into his pocket, he continued to stare as tension filled the air as well as in his stance.

Vivian finally moved first. Sucking in a fortifying breath, she skirted around him, moving to his unpacked grocery bags on the floor. “I also bought some groceries, but more is always better.” Her voice was natural, almost sounding friendly.

But Logan was anything but comfortable. She began putting the groceries away, haphazardly tossing the cans into the cabinets next to her purchases and the cold items into the refrigerator.

“I see you bought two percent milk. I have one percent, but I suppose it doesn’t matter. I’ve never really tasted a difference, but I figure I don’t need the extra fat.” She smiled as she turned away from the refrigerator. He still glowered, so she quickly turned back to her task.

He moved forward, but the tiny kitchen had little room for both of them. “I’ve got this.”

She stepped to the side and nodded, her lips pressed together, but he didn’t speak, not sure what he’d say. He arranged the canned goods in the cabinet, labels facing out in a neat stack. After he finished placing the cold items inthe refrigerator and freezer, also arranging them neatly on the shelves, he stowed the plastic bags and turned to face her.

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