Logan walked back into the house, locking the door securely behind him, turning the porch light off that Vivian must have flipped on for him. Staring at the lock, he knew he should have added extra security before he left on his run. Vowing that would be the first thing on his to-do list for the next day, he turned from the door, noting a lamp turned on in the living room, as well as the light in the hall, providing illumination.

He knew the hour was late, but it was a nice gesture from her. Double checking the back door in the kitchen, he turned off the lamp before heading to the bedrooms. A quick glance inside his room satisfied him that she had, indeed, done what he asked and moved her things from that room. A note on the bed caught his eye.

Snatching it up, he read,

Didn’t want to touch your stuff, so I couldn’t change the sheets on your bed. They were clean when I slept on them last night, and I assure you I had a shower before I went to bed. See you in the morning, Vivian

The door across the hall was closed and he moved to it, his hand on the doorknob before hesitating. The desire to open the door to see that she was okay was strong—unnervingly strong. I can’t just open her bedroom door. I can’t just peek in. What if—fuck it, I need to see that she’s safe.

Opening the door slowly, his eyes adjusted quickly to the dark room, the moonlight barely peeking in through the slit in the closed curtains. An unmoving lump was in the bed, so he stepped closer, allowing light from the hall to shine on her. Her dark hair flowed out behind her on the pillow as she lay on her side facing him. Her eyelashes made thick crescents on her cheeks and her mouth, for once not talking, was slightly open, her breaths deep.

The floorboards creaked underneath his weight and he inwardly cursed, but she never moved. Satisfied she was safe, he backed out of the room, closing the door behind him. A slight grin slid over his face as he thought about how deeply she slept. He was trained to sleep light, to be awake and aware in an instant. But her? She looked as though she could sleep through fireworks.

His cock stirred at the thought of her tucked into bed, but he tamped down any thoughts of sex with the pretty Viv. His frown now back firmly in place, he headed to wash up in the tiny-ass bathroom. At least the water was hot. Back in his bedroom, dressed in cutoff sweat pants and a t-shirt, he set his bag off the bed after checking his weapons. The rooms were small, only fitting a twin-sized bed with a scuffed wooden headboard, a chest of drawers, and a sliding door that opened to a small closet. Vivian had closed the curtains but he moved to the window, barely pulling them to the side once his light was out, and looked next door. His run in the dark included some reconnaissance on the neighbor’s property. Their lights were out as well now.

Satisfied there was nothing else to be done tonight, he pulled back the covers and slid into bed. As his head hit the pillow, the soft floral scent of Vivian encircled him, filling his nostrils. For an instant, he thought that perhaps he should have changed the sheets. But as he relaxed into sleep, he liked that her scent surrounded him.

* * *

Vivian’s eyes opened and, just like the previous morning, it took her a moment to remember where she was. Always a deep sleeper, she lay for several minutes as her brain tried to catch up to the fact that there was sunlight coming through the slit between the curtains and the sound of boots could be heard down the hall.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she pulled on her woolen socks, desperately longing for coffee. Standing, in a mindless quest for caffeine, she staggered out of her bedroom, barely noting Logan’s bedroom door was open. Scuffing into the kitchen, she rounded the corner and viewed the back of him.

Tall. Muscular. And this she knew because of the tight, long-sleeved T-shirt pulled across his back and fit along his trim waist. His jeans hung just right on his ass, but she could tell he could have cared less about his clothes or how they looked on him. She was still gawking when he looked over his shoulder, catching her standing there.

Stunned, Logan stared at her, the flannel pajamas hiding her figure, but he knew they kept the morning chill off. Her silky hair hung straight, close to the sides of her face but unable to hide the pillow crease running along her cheek. The slack, still half-asleep look on her face almost made him grin.

“Viv? You awake?”

Her eyes jumped to his and she shook her head. “Uh-uh. Coffee.”

He poured her a cup before setting the creamer found in the refrigerator and the sweetener packets he noticed in the cabinet onto the counter as well. She shuffled toward the steaming cup and dumped creamer and two sweeteners in before circling her hands around it, holding it close. Her eyes closed as she inhaled deeply.

After taking a few sips while he stood at the stove fixing bacon and eggs, she finally asked, “When did you get in last night?”

“Late. You were already asleep.”

No response came from her but he heard slurping. Plating the bacon and eggs, he moved past her to set them on the table. She was still standing in the same position, her hip leaning against the counter as though it were holding her up.

“You gonna eat?” he asked, taking a seat.

“Uh-huh,” she mumbled as she shuffled to the table and sat down. Sniffing appreciatively, she nodded her thanks as she shoveled a spoonful of scrambled eggs into her mouth. “This is good.”

He eyed her carefully before asking, “You always this much of a zombie in the morning?”

Blinking, she halted the fork on its path to her mouth. “I’m not a zombie.”

“Viv, you sleep like the dead. I checked on you last night and you didn’t even stir. I checked on you this morning and you were laying in the same position, as though you hadn’t moved all night. Now, you can barely speak a sentence and look like you’re gonna face-plant right into the middle of your eggs. I’d call that a zombie.”

Vivian opened and closed her mouth several times, but no response came. How did he do that? Reduce her to silence. And he calls me Viv. No one calls me Viv. Her parents sometimes called her Vivie, but that sounded too much like her teenage years. But Viv? Her lips curved up slowly as she turned her attention back to her plate.

As he finished his breakfast, he pushed his chair back, stretching his long legs in front of him. “Thanks for taking care of changing bedrooms last night. I need to be on that side so I can keep track of the house next door.”

Realizing he was ready to talk business, she finished quickly and took their plates to the sink. Rinsing them, she left them for later and poured two more cups of coffee. Setting one in front of him, she said, “Here’s your unsullied cup.” Taking her creamed and sweetened cup to the opposite side of the table, she sat down.

“Unsullied?” he chuckled.

Not having heard him chuckle before, she stared for a second. The rumble came from deep in his chest and she was unable to hide her grin. “Yeah…it’s unsullied with anything to make it remotely drinkable. But, that’s the way you like it, right?”

Nodding, his grin slipped out. Then, just as quickly, it disappeared. “Okay, we need to talk about the plans.” He leaned a long arm over to the counter, snagging a folder and laying it out in front of them.

She slid over to the chair next to him so they could view it together.

“Were you given any details about the suspects?” he asked.

Shaking her head, she answered, “No.” Biting the corner of her lip, she altered her reply. “Other than they were suspected terrorists. But, honestly, that means little to me.”

His sharp gaze met hers and she quickly added, “It’s not that I’m ignorant, but there are many terrorist sects and the particulars weren’t shared with me. I’m just interested in the possible chemical and biological combinations and mixtures that can be made. Unlike explosives, the results can be easy to hide. They don’t have to be completely volatile.”

Turning to the first page of the notebook, she observed the pictures laid out in front of her: one man and one woman. Tapping the two pictures, he said, “This is Akram Zaman. The house is rented in his name. The lease includes his wife, Farrah. Whether or not they are actually married, we can’t say for sure. We do know they did not come straight to Alaska. They immigrated to Chicago and it appears spent time in Denver as well. He’s been on the radar because of the past company he’s kept—members of other known ISIS cells. They moved to Fairbanks almost two years ago, where they leased an apartment near the university. Akram was active in the local mosque and began spending time at the university, hosting gatherings for other Muslims.” Snorting, he added, “That sounds good, except he was recruiting for his organization, not socializing with peace-loving students.”

She listened attentively, studying the photographs carefully so she would be able to identify them when she saw them.

Continuing, he said, “They took out a lease on this house about four months ago.” Flipping to the next page of photographs, “And these people seem to be the most frequent visitors. Malik Jones, Rashad Smith, and Nafisa Fariq. All university students majoring in biology or chemistry. There have been other visitors since they’ve been under suspicion, but these are the most frequent.”

“How on earth do you already know all that?”

Logan looked up, seeing her brows lowered, her mouth pursed. “This wasn’t just handed to me yesterday. Been gathering intel for a while.” He watched as her brows lifted almost to her hairline as her eyes widened.

“But, if you know all that, then why are we needed?”

“Not all intel can be gathered by computers or satellites or—”

“Satellites?” She leaned back in her chair, shaking her head. “But…but…that sounds like something out of a movie.”

“Movies are shit. I work in the real world.”

Vivian sucked in her lips, her mind swirling with questions. Taking in her face, he asked, “What are you thinking?”

Her gaze jumped to his, surprise in her eyes. “How’d you know I was pondering something?”

“Viv, you’d better not play poker. Your face hides nothing. In fact…” his mouth pinched as he rubbed his jaw. Leaning back in his seat, he pinned her with a hard stare. “This may be a big mistake.”

“What? Are you saying I’m a mistake?”

Nodding, he said, “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“I’ll have you know—”

Throwing his hand up, he said, “Don’t get riled up. This isn’t personal. But, why the hell did the DHS security think it was a good idea to put a woman with no investigative, security or military experience out here? Viv, your face is an open book, easy for anyone to read.”

“I was sent to analyze the materials and compounds they’re using and creating. I can test what you find and let you know what it is.”

“And our cover? Jesus, it’s more than just us living in the same house. We’ll see them out in the yard…maybe at the store. Sure, you can act the part of my wife from a distance, but how will you ever shutter your face so they can’t see your suspicion when we’re close?”

Shoving her chair back, she stood quickly, walking into the living room. Logan dropped his chin to his chest, sighing heavily. Watching her stand, motionless, in the middle of the room, he stood and walked up behind her. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he turned her gently around.

“Viv, I’m sorry,” he said. “I swear, I’m not trying to be a hard-ass. I’m just used to…to working with a trained team.”

Vivian’s eyes stayed on his chest, not trusting herself to look higher. Nodding jerkily, she continued to stare straight ahead.

He lifted her chin with his finger and said, “Let’s get back to planning, okay?”

Shrugging, she replied, “What’s the point? As far as you’re concerned, I’m not right for this job.”

Not having an answer to her question, Logan simply tugged on her arm, leading her to the sofa. Once seated, he said, “I was a SEAL.”

A SEAL? Damn. At that pronouncement, Vivian’s gaze jumped to his as her mouth opened in stunned silence.

“Guess you know something about SEALs.”

Not wanting to admit she read SEAL romances, she snorted, “Not officially, but yeah, I know. Mostly from TV, movies, and…uh...books.” She thought about what she knew—they were the best of the best, could take on any mission, highly trained. She sighed, then spoke, defeat in her voice. “I’m so not what you’re used to. You’re right…this is a mistake.”

They sat quietly for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Logan said, “Look, maybe we’re both thinking of this all wrong.” Seeing her brows lift in surprise, he continued, “I always worked in a team. We each had our own strengths, our own particular jobs that we were to do, but we worked as one. Seamless. We spent so much time together we could read each other’s faces, body language. We knew the mission, planned it out, but could change on a dime and reassess what needed to be done. And this only came with intense, twenty-four-seven training over a long period of time.”

She nodded, dejection still on her face. “But this only goes to prove why we can’t make this work.”

“No, no,” he said. “It just means that I need to change what I’m used to. And, so do you. I’m not on a SEAL team anymore and you’re not stuck in a lab.”

“But how do we do this now…with no time for training together?”

He stared into her deep brown eyes, so dark it was hard to distinguish the pupil from the iris. Dark chocolate. That’s what they looked like.

“Logan?”

Blinking rapidly, he looked away, forcing the heat from his face. “We need to be clear on what our different roles are. We need to carefully review the information we have, but I’m not going to force you to learn anything. After all, if we were just newlyweds moving to the neighborhood, you wouldn’t know their names ahead of time. You’d stumble over their names. Hell, you might even get the names mixed up, if you saw a different person over there.”

Nodding, she agreed. “Okay, so I need to review the information as to what you know and what you’ll be doing, but I need to keep to my role of just a neighbor until you bring over samples for me to analyze?”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” Looking up suddenly, as a thought slammed into him, he urged, “But I don’t want you over there by yourself. At all. Do you understand me?”

Crinkling her brow, she shook her head. “But why? What if we get invited over for…for…I don’t know. Maybe coffee?”

Incredulous, he growled, “Jesus, Viv. You think a terrorist is going to invite you over for coffee?”

“No, I mean…no,” Vivian floundered, feeling the blush heat her cheeks.

“You do not go inside that house by yourself. Ever. I won’t yield on this, Viv, so you’ve got to promise.”

“Okay,” she agreed rather hurriedly, hoping to reassure him.

“What do you need to do for your analysis?”

“I brought equipment with me but, honestly, I haven’t figured out where to set up—”

“How big a space do you need?”

“A room that is about as big as one of our bedrooms, but not in this house. It could be potentially deadly materials—”

“I found a shed.”

Constant interruptions would normally drive her crazy, but she quickly realized this was the way Logan worked. It appeared his mind worked so efficiently, he was already ready with an answer halfway through a question.

Sighing, he said, “I’m sorry.”

Surprised, she blurted, “What for?”

“Just…just for…hell, being me, I guess.”

A smile slipped out, accepting his apology, knowing how this whole situation was as difficult for him as it was for her. “No problem. And, yes, a shed would be good, but where can we find one that’d work?”

“On my run last night, I was doing a reconnaissance of the area—”

“That’s why you were gone so long?” she asked, now the one interrupting.

“I had intelligence of this area before coming, but wanted to check it out myself. So, going on a run was the perfect way to check out the neighborhood and the woods surrounding us. ‘Bout fifty yards to the west in the woods is a shed. Abandoned. Looks like it was part of this property at one time, but hasn’t been used in years.”

“To the west…that’s away from their house, isn’t it?”

Admiration filled his eyes as he nodded. “Makes it perfect for you to get to without being seen.”

“So, can we make this work?” she asked, hesitation in her voice, her eyes searching his.

Rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, he said, “Truthfully? I’ve got no idea. But, I’ve never failed in a mission before and I sure as hell don’t plan on failing this one either.”

Her smile widened as she took his words to heart. Slapping her hands on her legs, she said, “Okay then. Tell me what’s next.”