Page 86 of Anything but Mine

He wasn't who she believed.

But when she demanded answers, he gave them.

And finally, she begins to hope they'll have a tomorrow.

Together.

Until the past blows up in her face, threatening everything--and everyone--she loves.

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Bulletproof Weeks

Chapter 1

Isabella Grace watched a fat snowflake fall into the rapidly growing mass at the corner of the massive window. The murmur of passengers and distant cry of a child fuzzed at the edges of her brain.

She longed for the padded silence that the oncoming storm promised, but there was nothing silent at the airport. Not the busy tractors and snowplows outside, nor the booming speakers with directions to ticket counters to re-book flights, and most especially not the overtired children and adults.

If she’d been home she would have watched through the skinny windows and let the blanket of silence ease her. But that was just a wish. Home was filled with just as much noise. Strained small talk and sympathetic stares were even louder there.

So she’d escaped into work. Her once endless list of requests was dwindling with every trip. In fact she’d added personal delivery to the rarer finds on request. Between the Lines was expanding again, and far ahead of her own accelerated schedule. She glanced down at the steel reinforced leather briefcase between her feet.

She was traveling to Seattle with a first edition “Little Prince” then moving on to Vancouver. One of her favorite researchers wanted to sell off some of his books to make a garden oasis for himself.

For the last six months she’d amassed a hefty bank account, so it was time to spend it on some new acquisitions. If her personal life was going to shit then it was nice to know that her business could benefit. Their reputation was growing and the word of mouth from their high end clients made for a rather nice nest egg.

The way they were going, Nic and Adam would have their dream house way ahead of schedule. And for now Bella was happy to build her bank account and keep busy.

Five months of the road had given her the time to get her head on straight about the summer. People no longer recognized her from the newspapers and Logan had been keeping a relatively low profile. It was a relief not to see his face every time she walked through an airport.

For the first month after the festival he’d been on the cover of every celebrity magazine and music journal. Their photo was too unimportant to make the national magazines. She was a nobody in the land of music and fame, but Aimee? Oh yes, Aimee Collen was mentioned often. And Lindsey York. And any other woman that breathed in Logan’s vicinity.

And she’d felt like an idiot. Still did.

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Months later, she could feel him in the darkest parts of the night. The way he touched her hair, the nape of her neck, the calloused tips of his fingers tracing over her skin…all of it was as clear as if he was lying beside her.

It didn’t seem fair that a week could do that much damage to her. That his touch had become a phantom tattoo with all the permanence that entailed. Hell, she’d even tried a random hook-up the month before.

Disaster of the ages.

The minute she’d let him touch her in the elevator she’d known. All she could do was compare his touch to Logan’s. And the stranger had been lacking in every way. Fumbling and nervous where Logan had been sure and gentle, then alternately rough and determined. Logan had taken cues like a longtime lover and held her like he couldn’t bear to let her go.

The stranger was nice enough, but he wasn’t going to be the one to erase Logan’s touch. It would have had the opposite effect. So she’d extracted herself with as little drama as possible. The guy had been affable enough to know it wasn’t happening. She’d gone back to her room and got drunk on the offerings in her mini bar.

An expensive lesson, but it had reinforced her need to put the business first. Airports and auction houses were her home right now. Estate sales were her trip manifest and exhaustion was the only thing getting her through the night.

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