Page 80 of Winter’s Fire

She shook her head. “She said she wasn’t hungry. Why don’t you get some sleep, sir? It can be a long night.”

Logan nodded, accepting the truth of the statement. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t use the rest—the last couple of weeks had been hell, his body was still protesting its treatment, and in some ways it wasn’t over yet.

He still had to run the gauntlet of the debrief and submitting his report to Sir Guy. Jesus, he’d be lucky if his CO didn’t string him up by the balls and, after they’d turned blue and dropped off, kick his worthless arse straight out of the unit for allowing Lucy to be abducted and exposed to so much danger.

And if that was all that happened, Logan knew he’d have got off lightly.

~~*~~

Somehow he managed to doze, but was awake with the approach of dawn. Diana remained dead to the world. She’d slept solidly until she eventually woke and sailed off to monopolise the bathroom before breakfast was served.

While she was away, Logan went to check on Lucy again. She was awake, and staring out of the window, apparently oblivious to his presence. Even if her rigid posture hadn’t warned him off, now was not the time for opening the can of worms their relationship had become.

Not long after breakfast was finished, the plane began its descent into Heathrow. The landing was smooth, and as the jet taxied towards the terminal, a member of the cabin crew approached Logan. She leaned down and spoke very quietly, so that only he and Diana would hear.

“Sir, we’ve received a message from security—if you and your party would kindly remain in your seats until the other passengers have disembarked, we have an escort waiting to expedite your progress through the formalities. I understand there are parties waiting for you in Arrivals.”

“Thank you. Would you please pass the message on to Miss Winter?”

He ignored the bratty tut and huff to his left. With luck, Diana’s role as the prize pain in his arse was now severely time-limited—given her father’s insistence on the investigation being carried out at the earliest opportunity, Logan could only hope that the man, or his representative, was one of the parties to whom the flight attendant had referred. No doubt the other would be Sir Guy, ready to drag Logan’s arse over the coals for allowing the mission to go to shit.

He wasn’t wrong—at least as far as identifying the mystery parties went. Not only was Diana’s father there, her mother was as well. After his relationship with Diana ended and with the benefit of hindsight, Logan had recognised that the fruit hadn’t fallen far from the maternal tree. While the two women hugged one another and exchanged a cheek-to-cheek air kiss, Sir Malcolm Carstairs extended his hand to Logan.

“Thank you for bringing her back. When the dust has settled, I’d like to invite you over for dinner.”

For all his faults, Logan had always found Sir Malcolm to be largely fair-minded—Diana was definitely more her mother’s daughter. “Thank you, sir, but that really isn’t necessary.”

“Then you and Diana…?”

Logan glanced in her direction. “I’m afraid not, sir. It didn’t work last time, and—”

“I understand. Shall we just say, Diana gave us a rather different impression during her last call before you left the US. I’ll take care of it. I believe Sir Guy and your colleague are waiting for you.”

His colleague. Hearing Lucy described in such an impersonal way sliced his heart to bloody ribbons. Logan took his leave of the Carstairs family and headed towards his boss and the woman who was his life. In spite of everything she’d been through, Lucy faced Sir Guy with the strength Logan had come to know, admire, and love.

“There you are, Simmonds. It’s good to have you back. Well done—you did a first-rate job, the pair of you. I was just telling Lucy that we’ll be taking her home, so she can rest up before coming into the office tomorrow for a debrief.”

“Thank you, Sir Guy.” Lucy’s mouth curved into a hesitant smile. “I’m looking forward to spending the night in my own bed—I hadn’t realised I could miss it quite so much.”

Her own bed. Not his. Logan looked at her, searching for some sign of the lively, vivacious woman who’d captured his heart, but what he saw… beneath the strength, there was a calm maturity that hadn’t been evident in the brat who’d come to his door what felt like a lifetime ago. More guilt washed over him—that brat had had a beguiling innocence about her, and thanks to him, that innocence was gone. She’d been exposed to a side of life she never should have seen, horrors she hadn’t known existed, and he should have protected her from them by never agreeing to let her accompany him in the first place.

“We’ll take Lucy home first, then back to HQ,” Sir Guy said. “I want a full report.”

“With all due respect, sir, Logan’s been through a lot, he really needs to—”

Dear God, she was actually trying to protect him. “It’s all right, Lucy. It’s standard operating procedure. It’s fine.”

“Sir, Logan took a terrible beating to protect us—”

“And I received excellent medical attention on the ship. I’m fine, sir.”

Sir Guy looked him up and down. “We’ll have the medic give him a once-over, Lucy. Now let’s get you home.”

Now it was Logan’s turn to flinch. Even though the gesture was purely paternal, he didn’t like the way Sir Guy put an arm around Lucy’s shoulders to comfort her. He was relegated to following on behind, with only the sickening feeling that each physical step was taking Lucy an emotional stride further away from him.

Chapter 21

Lucy hadn’t expected Sir Guy to see her to her front door, not with both Logan and his official driver in the car. She was glad Logan hadn’t volunteered. Oh, the weak, silly, desperately-in-love part of her wished he had, but for the sake of her self-respect, it was better this way.