Fighting back a smile, Logan gripped onto Weslee’s wrist and felt her go perfectly still. Jealousy radiated off of her like the fallout from a nuclear bomb. It settled a bit as she drew in a sharp breath. When he was sure she wasn’t going to bolt on him, he slid his palm down, threaded their fingers together and pulled her next to him. “What sounds good to you, babe?” he asked, giving her fingers a little squeeze.

Weslee remained stiff. She needed to loosen up and play the part of his girlfriend or the two women standing in front of him weren’t going to buy it. He rubbed his thumb across her skin. “Want me to pick something for you?” he asked, giving her a wink.

That did the trick. As if a director had just called out action, amusement sparkled in her eyes and a tiny smile emerged. “Would you, sweetheart?” she said, playing up her southern accent. “I swear I can never make up my mind.”

She was playing the part a little too well. The pout on her lips tempted Logan to lean down and kiss her. He forced his eyes away from her mouth and turned to look over the dessert choices. He caught the dark-haired woman who had come onto him eyeing Weslee viciously as if she were her competition. Weslee was so far out of this chick’s league it wasn’t even a close race. The woman’s redheaded companion still watched Logan like a vulture ready to swoop in to devour her prey. She didn’t care if he had a girlfriend or not. Heck, more than likely she’d invite Weslee to come along.

Women like these two had never appealed to him. Sex was like a form of entertainment to them. No commitment. No tender feelings of love. Just an activity meant to satisfy their desires. Logan’s mother had raised him to respect girls. He didn’t mess around and he hated guys who used women and then tossed them aside like an empty beer can.

Wanting to get away from the duo, he chose a decadent chocolate cheesecake garnished with fresh raspberries. Reluctantly, he let go of Weslee’s hand to pick it up. “Ladies,” he said, holding up the plate, “I think I’ve made my choice.”

The brunette lasered him with a disdainful expression while the redhead smiled and lifted one shoulder up in a shrug. “I hope you enjoy it.”

“We will,” Weslee said, wrapping her hand around his arm. “Y’all have a good night.” Then she picked up her abandoned plate with her free hand and the two of them walked away.

A few tables were scattered near the windows. Logan led them to a table closest to an exit. He nodded his head at Kate, who breezed by them on her way to the buffet table. Seeing the fellow security agent reminded him he still had a job to do.

“You did good back there, Campbell,” he said, trying to get his mind back into the op.

“Campbell?” she asked, nudging his arm. “What happened to babe?”

Her comment made him laugh. “So, babe isn’t a term of endearment I can use?” he asked, unloading the two plates onto the table.

“I didn’t say that. I think you used it very appropriately.” She set her plate down and narrowed her gaze. “I had a few names I wanted to call those women, but my mama taught me it’s not ladylike to speak like that, especially in polite company.”

He laughed again. “Weslee, I’ve been in the military for the past ten years. Pretty sure whatever you have to say isn’t going to offend me.” He pulled out a chair for her. “Even my mother would approve in this case.”

“I suppose so.” She smiled and slid onto the chair. “Thank you.”

Logan’s hands rested on the back of the chair, ready to help her slide closer to the table. But his view from behind her was so incredible that he couldn’t move. With her hair piled on top of her head, it left her slender neck bare, exposing soft skin he’d like to brush his lips across.

“Everything okay?” she asked, angling her face to look at him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, careful not to touch her as he slid the chair closer. He knew being so acutely aware of her, one touch of her skin would be like touching a tripwire, setting off a massive explosion.

He took the seat opposite of her, positioning his chair to give him a view of the room and the people milling around. So far the only one stalking Weslee was Logan.

He picked up the white cloth napkin that held the utensils and unrolled it. A curse word nearly slipped out when he spied Dallin Morrison coming across the floor toward them.

“Pardon me for interrupting,” Dallin said as he approached their table. “I wanted to apologize for ending our conversation so abruptly. I didn’t know they were going to call on me to speak.”

“No need to apologize, Mr. Morrison,” Weslee said, smoothing the cloth napkin with her fingers. “You were wonderful. I’m certain they raised more money because of you.”

“It’s Dallin.” He gazed longingly at Weslee, making Logan want to sweep his foot out to knock the man on his backside. “And thank you for the kind words.”

Color infused Weslee’s cheeks as her eyes cut to Logan for a brief heartbeat. Dallin followed her line of sight and the two men locked eyes. He wasn’t exactly challenging Logan, but he was definitely putting feelers out to see where Logan stood. How had he ever liked this guy? Right now he wanted to put the drop on him.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Dallin said, holding out his hand. “I’m Dallin Morrison.”

Scooting his chair back, Logan got to his feet. He maybe had an inch on Dallin and a few pounds he hoped were solid muscle. “Logan Steele,” he said, gripping the man’s hand just hard enough to let him know he was present.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Logan.” Dallin withdrew his hand, flexing his fingers as he dropped it to his side.

Maybe Logan had gripped a little too hard. “Likewise.” Logan sat back down, hoping Weslee didn’t ask the guy to join them. Logan stared him down until the guy finally looked away.

“Well, I’ll let you eat your meal,” he said to Weslee, pausing for a moment as if giving her a chance to ask him to stay. “I hope you’ll save a dance for me?”

“Of course,” Weslee said, now mutilating her napkin rather than smoothing it out. “You should get a plate. The food is delicious…I mean, I haven’t tried anything yet, but it smells very good.”

“Thank you. I believe I will.” Dallin stepped back and gave her a slight nod of his head. He didn’t spare Logan another glance as he headed for the buffet table.

Envy, frustration and white-hot anger tangled inside Logan’s chest. He wasn’t used to having these kinds of emotions. He’d always thought men who got so twisted up over a woman were weak and they just needed to man-up. He didn’t feel weak. It was more primal like he wanted to shout out that Weslee was his woman and to back off.

With all the crazy thoughts racing through his mind, he decided it was better to keep his mouth shut. He wished he could turn his brain off because ideas like putting a ring on Weslee’s finger to stake his claim seemed like a perfectly rational thought to him. Logan wasn’t the marrying kind of guy. So why was the memory of Blaine’s wedding to Elena forcing its way into his mind? Except instead of Blaine as the groom it was Logan standing next to Cannon while he watched his bride glide down the aisle toward him.

The guys, especially Hammerton, would never let him live this down. Logan was the guy who wasn’t going to ever fall for a girl. Love was too risky, and he never wanted to put a woman through what his mother had experienced when his dad had passed away. Logan had felt so helpless as a little boy, unable to console his mother.

A voice inside his head reminded him he wasn’t a SEAL anymore. Another voice argued that he still liked doing dangerous things like jumping out of airplanes, scaling the side of a mountain and flying helicopters.

Then there was that deep inner voice he tried to ignore. The one reminding him of the dark things he’d seen and done as a soldier. The shrinks he’d talked with over the years, especially after escaping from the Syrian prison, had helped quiet those voices. Logan was fortunate that he didn’t have any signs of PTSD, but he’d experienced bouts of depression. Exercise and staying away from alcohol and drugs had gotten him through those times. Talking with his SEAL team also helped. They got where he was coming from.

But if he ever did get married, his wife would want to know about his time as a SEAL. Sure, most of the ops he’d been on were confidential, but what if she asked him if he’d ever killed someone? That had happened to him a few times by girls he’d gone out with. Logan had always answered that question with the standard it’s classified, which was true, but they weren’t asking him who he had killed…just if he had killed.

He cracked the end of the lobster tail and dug the meat out, trying not to think about anything that had to do with getting married, but images of Weslee wearing a lacy white wedding dress kept sneaking past his defenses. Curse words his mother would never approve of, no matter what the situation was, flitted through his mind as he called himself stupid for even entertaining the idea of marriage.

He cracked another part of the lobster tail with so much force he crushed the shell into the tender meat.

“What did the lobster ever do to you?” Weslee asked. She was teasing him. Logan liked it when she teased him.

“Not a thing.” He looked at her for the first time since Dallin had come in and ruined their date. Okay, so it wasn’t exactly a date. Still, he’d messed up their meal.

“Hmm,” she said, biting her bottom lip as if trying to suppress a giggle. “Are you by chance projecting?”

“Are you some psychology major or something?” He dropped the ruined lobster tail on his plate and picked up a stuffed mushroom and popped it in his mouth.

“Nope, I majored in business with an emphasis on marketing.” She waited until he looked back up at her. “Now you’re deflecting, Lieutenant Steele. Is there something you’d like to talk about?”

His lips twitched. If she knew all the crazy thoughts he had going on in his head that involved her she’d run straight into Dallin Morrison’s waiting arms. Logan wasn’t husband material. Dallin was every girl’s dream come true.

“Nope, I’m good.”

“It might help,” she said, taking a sip of water. Then she smiled at him, and he knew she liked having the upper hand. Liked keeping him off-balance.

Two could play this game.

“I’m not much of a talker.” A wicked grin stole over his face as he purposely looked at her pretty mouth. “I’m more of an action kind of guy.”

“Oh.” She rubbed her lips together and looked down at her pathetic plate of food. For a girl who claimed to be starving she wasn’t eating very much.

“Something wrong with your food?” Logan asked.

“No, I’m saving room for dessert.”

Logan’s mouth went dry when her gaze connected with his. Emotions he could relate all too well with simmered in her light blue eyes. Whoa. Did she want dessert as in the chocolate cheesecake or was she talking about a metaphorical dessert?

If it was the latter, he knew she wasn’t offering what the other women had implied. But Logan was a strong proponent of kissing. He was sure there were a ton of health benefits that came from kissing. Just thinking about pressing his mouth to hers was making him feel pretty good.

Another blush blossomed on her face. “I’m not talking about the same kind of dessert Scarecrow Girls were talking about.” She picked up her fork and stabbed a tiny red tomato.

He quirked an amused brow. “Scarecrow Girls?”

“You know what I’m talking about.” She continued to stab the bite-sized tomato with her fork. “And I doubted they believed I was your girlfriend.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because they’re watching us.” She stared at something over his shoulder. “And we’re not exactly acting like we’re a couple.”

Logan studied her closely. Why did she care about two women flirting with him so much? Was it the same reason he’d wanted to knock America’s most eligible bachelor flat on his back a few moments earlier? Things could get so complicated if the two of them acted on their mutual attraction. She met his eyes again, giving him a look that made every one of his senses buzz to life.

Since when did Logan ever do the uncomplicated?

“Will it help if I hold your hand?” he asked, reaching across the table to place his hand over hers that held the fork. “I think you’ve tortured that tomato enough, anyway.”

“Probably,” she said, letting the fork go.

Although she agreed with him on the tortured tomato, her one-word reply also answered his first question. The table was small, making it easy to lift her hand to his mouth. “How about this?” he asked, marveling that kissing the back of a woman’s hand could feel so sensual.

“That works too,” she said in a breathless tone.

He circled his thumb in the center of her palm as he lowered their joined hands back to the table. His eyes drifted down to her mouth. Oh man, he wanted to kiss her. Did rich people kiss each other in public or did they adhere to the no PDA rule?

As he glanced around to see if any other couples were engaged in more than handholding, one of the hosts for the charitable event announced the ballroom was now open for dancing. It was the perfect setup to prove to the Scarecrow Girls that he and Weslee were a couple. He hoped Dallin Morrison got the message too.

“I’ll bet if they saw us dancing they would believe it,” he said, suddenly feeling as nervous as he’d been when he’d asked a girl he liked to prom. While the girl in high school had said yes, Weslee might shoot him down.

“I think so too,” she said, her voice sounding more breathy than before. “Do you want to go now or wait until after you’re done eating?”

His appetite for the delicious food covering his plate had suddenly switched to something else entirely. On the drive to the hotel, she’d put on some kind of tropical-fruit scented lip gloss. Tropical fruit was exactly what Logan was craving right now.

“I’m not that hungry anymore,” he said in a rough voice. “What about you?”

Her eyes darted to the chocolate confectionary, lingering for a long moment. Looks like she was going to shoot him down for dessert. The real dessert, not the metaphorical kind.

“Actually,” she said almost shyly. “I’m not really a fan of chocolate cheesecake.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “Good to know.” Keeping a hold of her hand, he stood up and gently tugged her to her feet. “I think I’ll let you pick out the next dessert.”

Their eyes connected, both of them smiling at each other as if they were the only two people in the room.

“Excuse me,” a timid voice said from beside them. Both he and Weslee turned to see a young girl dressed in a typical catering uniform. “I’m really sorry to bother you, Miss Campbell, but I just wanted to say thank you for helping save my little brother’s life.” The girl gave her a watery smile. “He received a bone marrow transplant that put his leukemia into remission. The donor signed up because of you and your company.”

“That’s wonderful,” Weslee said. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Would it be okay if I took a picture with you?” She bit her lip and looked over her shoulder. “I know we aren’t supposed to bother the guests, but it would really mean a lot to Jack. That’s my little brother’s name.”

“Of course,” Weslee said. “And it’s no bother at all.”

Before Logan could move out of the way, the girl moved next to Weslee and held up her phone to take a few selfies with him included. “Thank you so much,” she said, stepping away and slipping her phone back into her pocket. “Jack is going to be so happy.”

“You’re welcome.” Weslee watched the girl walk away with a smile that lit up her face, making her even more beautiful. “Thanks for being a good sport,” she said, giving Logan’s hand a squeeze.

“Sure, it wasn’t a big deal.” The big deal was how kind Weslee was. Logan couldn’t help thinking how much his mother would love it if he brought a girl like Weslee home. He also made a mental note to look further into the bone marrow match program to see what he needed to do to sign up.

Leading Weslee across the floor, he purposefully walked past the Scarecrow Girls. He made sure to gaze down at Weslee like he was totally in love with her. It was a little frightening how easily that could be true. If he wasn’t careful he could fall in love with Weslee.

They arrived in the ballroom just as a song ended. Some of the couples moved off of the dance floor while others waited for the next song to start. Wanting to be near an exit in case something happened, Logan skirted around the edge of the ballroom until he came to the exit closest to the beach. It was an emergency exit only, which meant there wouldn’t be a lot of activity around the door if they needed to make a quick escape.

The next song started as Logan drew Weslee into his arms. Placing one hand at her lower back while holding her right hand in the traditional dance hold, it occurred to him that unless Dallin or the two women had followed them into the ballroom then acting like a couple wasn’t really necessary.

He should keep her at a proper distance, but having her in his arms dulled his ability to think clearly. Or it could also be the voltage of electricity zipping between them that had short-circuited his brain. Whatever it was, he didn’t care. Weslee’s body melted against him as she placed her left hand on his shoulder and nestled her face near the crook of his neck.

A vocalist crooned an Ed Sheeran melody he’d heard before that talked about dancing and falling in love. Logan had always scoffed at such sappy words and usually skipped songs like this, but as he listened to each word he totally got where the songwriter was coming from. The next part of the lyrics made Logan’s heart jump to a rate he usually only achieved after sprinting.

But darling, just kiss me slow, your heart is all I own...

The words, though sang softly, seemed to be like a loudspeaker in his ear. He wanted to kiss Weslee long and slow and wished they were dancing in the dark instead of a ballroom with bright chandeliers hanging over them.

Each word penetrated him to his core, and the air in his lungs felt trapped, like if he didn’t make a move then his chest would explode under the pressure. When he couldn’t stand it anymore, he made a slight adjustment with the angle of his head, bringing the side of his face close enough he could feel her warm breath against his jawline.

Better…but not exactly what he wanted. Blood pounded through his veins, his pulse loud in his ears, making it almost impossible to hear the lyrics. He strained against the throbbing sound, trying to catch the words. He wanted this beautiful girl to be his, and he wanted to be her man.

Swallowing hard, he ached to turn his head and press his lips to hers. Was Weslee feeling any of this or was he the only one losing his mind?

As if she heard his thoughts, she shifted her face until her cheek touched his. Her skin was soft against his jaw as her scent swirled around him in an intoxicating cloud of feelings he’d never experienced before.

Somehow he still managed to keep swaying to the music. Managed to keep breathing as the song continued. Weslee was the first to make the next move, turning her face a little more toward him until their mouths nearly touched.

The next move was all his. A move that felt as dangerous as working the flight deck of an aircraft carrier. Kissing her crossed a line and there would be no going back. While he could pass it off as role-playing, he knew he’d want more than just this kiss. He knew all of this…and yet he wasn’t going to let it stop him.

It hadn’t been that long since he’d kissed a woman. Jace had set him up with some girl a couple of months ago, and Logan had kissed her goodnight. He’d thought about calling the girl again but never had because there just wasn’t any real spark.

The moment his lips touched Weslee’s mouth there was more than fireworks. It was like a stick of dynamite exploded inside him, cracking him open and unleashing a starving man. Her lips melded with his in equal passion as he practically devoured her.

A loud popping sound made Logan rip his mouth from hers as he whirled around to move in front of Weslee. While searching for the shooter, he shoved his hand inside his jacket and wrapped his fingers around the handle of his gun.

“Logan,” Weslee said, touching his shoulder. “It’s just a champagne bottle.”

He blinked, zeroed in on a couple standing next to a minibar. A man held up a bottle, laughing as he poured the bubbly liquid into two glasses.

“She said yes!” the man shouted out as he handed his new fiancée a glass of champagne.

As the room erupted in loud applause, Logan drew in a shaky breath and loosened his hold on the gun. Nobody had taken a shot at Weslee. She was safe. And he was an idiot. How could he have allowed himself to get that distracted?

“Sorry about that.” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck and evened out his breathing. “I thought that was a gun.” He should apologize for kissing her too.

“Do you really think my stalker would try shooting at me in a public place?”

“Probably not.” He scowled. In his line of work, one should never make assumptions. “But that doesn’t mean I should have let my guard down.” His mood darkened. He should’ve never kissed her either.

“Logan, you did nothing wrong. The second you heard the noise you were in front of me.” Her lower lip trembled, and she looked down at her hands. “I think that scared me more than anything.”

“What scared you?” he asked in a low voice.

“You stepped in front of me even though you assumed someone was shooting at me.” She lifted her face and looked directly into his eyes. “I don’t understand why you’d risk your life for me?”

“That’s my job,” he said without thinking it through. While that was true…he also cared about her. Really cared about her. And that scared him. “I protect people, Weslee. It’s what I’m good at.” He wanted to add that he was lousy at relationships because he never allowed himself to get close to a woman. His SEAL brothers and his mom were the only people he’d ever let in.

The hurt look in her eyes told him she didn’t need him to say it out loud. “I see,” she said. “Well, thank you, Lieutenant Steele. If you get yourself killed because of me then I’ll feel so much better about it.”

She was mad at him again. Good. He needed her mad at him. Wished she would try to fire him again. This time he wouldn’t argue with her but call Sutton to get a replacement.

Another song started, this one a little more upbeat. Logan wasn’t in the mood to dance again. He couldn’t he trust himself to keep her at an appropriate distance, and he couldn’t properly guard his client. Client. He had to think of her as his client otherwise he might drag her off to a dark corner and finish kissing her.

Since they were near the outer edge of the dance floor, he took Weslee by the hand and pulled her along with him until they were no longer where all the dancers were. He wanted to demand they go home right now, but she’d had her heart set on the ball. They could stay longer as long as he watched from the sidelines. At least with her dancing with someone else he was free to keep a vigilant watch on the rest of the patrons.

An image of Dallin Morrison holding Weslee in his arms started a tidal wave of those tangled emotions he couldn’t shake. He tamped down the surge of possessiveness as he envisioned Weslee and Morrison dancing close together and kissing.

“I think I’m ready to go home,” Weslee said without looking directly at him. “The auction was successful, and that’s all I really care about.”

Guilt pressed heavy on Logan’s shoulders at how relieved he felt. He knew his relief had very little to do with her security detail. He needed to get her home and put some distance between them. Inez had told him not to let Weslee run away, but Logan was the one running.

“Are you sure?” he asked more out of obligation.

“I’m positive.” She pulled her phone from her little silver purse and tapped in a message. “I’ll tell Jon to notify the pilot that we’ll be leaving earlier so he can file a new flight plan.”

“Okay,” he said, pulling out his phone. “Let me text Agent Bradley to come stay with you while I get the car.”

Weslee nodded her head, keeping her gaze averted. He’d hurt her, but it was better now rather than sometime down the road.

Kate arrived almost immediately. “Thank you for calling it an early night,” she said to Weslee. “I never wear heels and my feet are killing me.”

“Mine too,” Weslee said with a sad smile.

Her dejected voice created so much conflict inside Logan that he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He wanted to run away while at the same time hold her in his arms. He hadn’t lied when he said he was good at protecting people. He’d taken over the role of protecting his mother at a very young age after his dad had been killed. Seeing Weslee distressed upset him, but he couldn’t comfort her. Not when he knew what would happen if he did.

“It shouldn’t take long to get the car,” he said to Kate. “I’ll shoot you a text once I have it.”

She waved him off, so Logan worked his way through the crowd as quickly as possible. Weslee was in good hands with Kate. Probably safer than with him, since Agent Bradley wasn’t distracted by their client the same way he was.

Logan knew what he had to do. While he waited for the valet to bring him his SUV, he typed in a message to Sutton Smith. Before sending the finished text, he read over it again and grimaced. He wasn’t a quitter. He’d been known to go rogue if a mission went sideways, improvising and doing whatever it took to complete the op, but he’d never quit.

Decision made, he pushed send. Logan’s gut instincts were rarely wrong, and his gut told him that if he got on that private plane with Weslee Campbell, his life would change forever.