Page 81 of Winter’s Fire

Grateful that Sir Guy had confirmed he hadn’t told her parents anything about what had happened, she’d assured him she’d be fine on her own—but as soon as she was alone, sobs tore her apart. She collapsed to her knees and gave in to the tempest of emotion that had been brewing since she woke up on the plane a few hours earlier.

She had to move on from this. Whoever she was now, whatever she was turning into, this was her new normality—it was the life she’d wanted, and no one had promised it would be roses all the way.

On autopilot, she went through the motions of making tea. Without thinking, she went to the fridge, and found not only fresh milk, but eggs, fruit and vegetables, even a pack of bacon. A loaf of her favourite granary bread had also materialised in a cupboard.

Sir Guy must have been responsible for organising this. The kindness and thoughtfulness of the gesture made her eyes smart. Lucy managed a small smile. The man came across as something close to a tyrant at times, but then he went and did something like this.

A mug of tea and a bacon sandwich were marvellous, if temporary, medicine for what ailed her. That little touch of the familiar helped straighten out her scrambled thoughts, and enabled her to focus on her plan of action for the next day.

Right now, though, once she finished her tea, she was going to grab a shower and then get some sleep. Everything would look better after she’d rested. Then tomorrow she’d see the doctor, speak to Sir Guy, and set off for home. As for what came after that… That depended on her conversation with the boss.

He’d want to know exactly what happened. Lucy thought of all the statements that had crossed her desk over the last few months—that was what he’d want from her. Perhaps the shower could wait a little while longer. She had a report to type up first.

Her life was at a turning point now, and only one thing was certain—whichever direction she took, it wouldn’t be with Logan Simmonds at her side.

Nor would it be with the simple beauty and calming influence of submission, because no man was ever going to replace Logan as her Master.

~~*~~

Logan looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, twisting slowly to examine the extent of the bruising over his ribs. In places, black-and-blue was already turning to purple-and-yellow, but on the whole, it looked worse than it felt.

The cuts and grazes were healing too, thanks to Lucy’s care, especially the knife wound she’d stitched. A course of intravenous antibiotics on the way to Miami had taken care of any developing infection, but even so, Sir Guy had still ordered him to see the unit doc when they arrived at headquarters. He’d duly done so, only to receive a second verdict that echoed what the Royal Navy medic had said.

The debriefing session that followed went much as Logan had anticipated, with the welcome exception of the lack of disciplinary action for endangering Lucy. The exact opposite had occurred—Sir Guy had even gone so far as to thank him for bringing her home safely.

Of course, his CO hadn’t yet received Lucy’s report, so there was every chance his career could still go down the pan.

At the end of their meeting, Sir Guy had offered him a piece of advice, which Logan still wasn't sure he’d take. That advice was to give Lucy some space.

So he’d written up his report and tried not to think of her. Tried not to remember the look on her face when Diana had run to him in the cell, or the way she’d pretended to be asleep on the plane.

Damn it to hell!

Why the fuck hadn’t he come clean with Lucy in the first place? And in what universe was allowing Diana to dig her talons into him again the best way to protect Lucy from her?

Christ, he was the biggest fuck-up in creation.

Frustration drove Logan’s fist against the wall. The need to be with Lucy was eating away at him, but he couldn’t give in. She needed patience from him. What he’d never forget, though, was the hurt in her gaze when he’d joined her and Sir Guy at the airport, after taking his leave of Sir Malcolm and his family. Only a glimpse before her expression became shuttered, but it was enough to tell him she was unlikely to be receptive to anything he had to say for quite some time.

How the hell was he going to convince her after the show Diana had put on? He’d have to pull out all the stops if he was going to claim her, and that probably meant going toe-to-toe with her brothers. No problem. He’d particularly relish taking on Sam for not letting him near Lucy on the ship.

Sir Guy had said something about her going into the office tomorrow. It was too soon—if he went in with a view to catching her there, he’d be giving her almost no space at all—but it was neutral territory. She wouldn’t come to him here, and he couldn’t go to her place—hell, he didn’t even fucking know where her place was.

So much for patience. He was supposed to be on leave, but the more he thought about it, the more inclined Logan was to ignore the implicit order in Sir Guy’s suggestion that he take a couple of days off.

Morning couldn’t come soon enough. He wasn’t going to sleep well, that was for sure. He was already primed to fight for a future with his girl, and he was determined to win, whatever it took. This was the most important mission he’d ever undertake, and he was not going to fail.

~~*~~

“Lucy, it’s good to see you. Thank you for coming in early. Come and sit down, and tell me how you are. Did you manage to get some sleep?”

“I did, thank you, Sir Guy.” Lucy settled in one of the armchairs. “It’s good to be back.”

“The doctor tells me you’re in good shape, apart from some superficial injuries she expects to be healed before long, which I’m very glad to hear.”

“Just a few bumps and scratches. Logan came off far worse.”

“Yes, I know. The medical officer checked him out. A few more days and he’ll be back on top form. But what I want to talk about this morning, is you—how you feel, and what are your thoughts about what happened.”