Chapter Seven


	Logan sat extremely still in the passenger seat of Simon's SUV, the events of the
evening swimming in her head as she tried to calm her nerves.  Simon had said nothing
since getting in the vehicle, and she'd been in no rush to break the silence either.  If she
tried, she was certain her voice would come out as a painful squeek squeezed from her
throat, or at best, a confused jumble of uninteligable words.  She would say nothing, and
she would do her best not to think about the evening either. 
	But the burning in her lips could not be ignored, although she resisted the urge to
bring her fingers to her lips to touch them, to see if the heat she felt on the inside could
also be felt on the outside.  
	He had kissed her!
	One minute they were dancing on the crowded dance floor, as  her legs
threatened to give way beneath her from the touch of his hands against her bare back,
and the next they weren't moving, and everyone else seemed to have disappeared. 
She had looked up to see why they had stopped, and had found herself mesmerized by
the dark pools of his eyes, and before she knew it, his lips were on hers.  
	Simon Crestwater had kissed her!
	Softly, gently, tenderly, just brushing against her tentatively, then capturing her
more completely.  She had no idea how long it had lasted. She was aware only of the
incredieble desire within her to be somewhere else.
	Somewhere less public, she had found herself thinking.  Somewhere intimate.
	At long last he had lifted his lips from hers and she had buried her face in the
front of his suit.  She had dared not look up at him, for she didn't trust herself not to send
the wrong message, for what she had felt at that moment would surely be read clearly in
her eyes.  Instead, she had let him move them around the dance floor again, picking up
the rythme of the waltz, and prayed that by the time he let her go her legs would have
ceased being made of jelly.
	He had made no mention of the kiss since, and Logan had decided he must be
in the habit of kissing all his dance partners.  She just wished, however, that Hector and
Dolores hadn't left together in the car with Andrew, leaving her to ride back to their
mansion with Simon.  Maybe the kiss had meant nothing to him, but it had thrown her for
a loop, and it wasn't going to be easy for her to forget.
	Not that she was inexperienced.  She and her hockey player had lived together;
she wasn't an innocent child.  But nothing she had experienced with Craig had prepared
her for the aftermath of this one simple kiss from Simon Crestwater!  And the fact that he
seemed completely unphased by it was burning her up inside.  She must not make a
complete fool of herself, and she only hoped that she hadn't already done so. 
	But when the SUV pulled up outside the Shellington’s, Simon made no move to
get out of the vehicle.  After a few seconds of silence, he rested his hand over hers and
looked at her.
	“Tonight was — like a dream,” he said, and she could not see the expression in
his eyes in the dim light of the moon shining through the window. 
	“Simon ... “  Words escaped her, and her voice failed.  He didn't let her speak
anyway, for in the next breath his hand had slid along her neck to draw her face to his,
and his lips were on hers once again.  This time the kiss was more searching, more
penetrating than the earlier one, and a slight whimper escaped her just as he drew her
against him. As he stroked over the soft, filmy fabric that was the only thing  separating
his hand from her breast, warning bells began to sound in her head, but instead of
pushing away she found herself wrapping her fingers in his hair and kissing him deeper. 
	Never had she wanted anything more than she wanted this.  The burning touch
of his hand through the thin fabric of her dress; the deep hunger in his lips; the chiseled
masculinity of his body pressed up against hers.  She wanted this kiss, and she wanted
more, and she was powerless to hide it.
	It must have been obvious how hungry she was for his kiss, for he kissed her
back with a fury she had never felt before.  But as she tugged him even closer,
emmitting a nearly inaudible whimper, she heard a growl rumble in his throat that
culminated in one tortured word.
	“No!”
	At the same moment, he released her, and slid across the seat to anchor himself
on the steering wheel with a knuckle-whitening grip. 
	“Simon?” she whispered, and she heard him groan again, then he was out of the
vehicle and around to her side, opening the door for her. 
	“I'm sorry, McCoy,” he said, his voice deeper than normal.  “I'm so sorry!  That
won't happen again!”  
	And as he watched her run up the steps to the house and disappear inside, he
swore to himself that he must make certain that it didn't happen again.  He could bring
nothing but trouble for her.

	Trouble with a capital T, he thought, as he sped the SUV along Highway 10
between Tucson and Phoenix the next afternoon.  Logan sat perfectly silent in the
passenger seat, dressed once again in shades of brown and tan.  Dolores had tried to
talk him out of it, but he was convinced this was the only thing he could do.  He had to
get this girl out of his life — or more importantly, get himself out of her life, before he did
something they would both regret later. 
	He'd come to the decision the night before, after she'd fled into the house.  He'd
spent a long time sitting in the SUV after she'd gone, and he'd only managed to come to
one conclusion.  Simon Crestwater was bad news for a woman like Logan McCoy, and
despite the fact that there had been a strong physical attraction between them, the
sooner he put as many miles between them as possible, the better off she would be. 
	The fact that Logan gave no objection to his suggestion that he take her home
only served to prove to him that he had made the right decision.  In fact, she seemed
only too willing to finally put an end to this saga.  She voiced only one regret, but he
sensed there were two. The first being the fact that she would miss the Shellington's
when she was gone; the second, he was sure, would be that she would have to make
the short journey to Phoenix alone with him.
	He'd had to wait until later in the morning to broach the subject of her leaving,
mainly because he had spent most of the early hours holed up in the study with Hector. 
Once he had suggested it, Logan had jumped at the opportunity.
	“You're quite right, of course.  I'll pack my things right away.  I can be ready to
leave in a few minutes,” she had said, spinning on her heel and bolting back to her
room, returning minutes later with her pack.  The expression on her face had been
guarded, but although she shed a tear or two as she hugged Dolores goodbye, he
suspected he saw a hint of something else when she had looked at him.  Once they
were on the roade, the sweet voice she had used to say her goodbyes to their hosts
was gone, replaced with a sharp edged one.
	Of course, since they had set out, she hadn't spoken more than five words to
him, he reminded himself, and gripped the steering wheel even tighter.  A curt Thank
You had been offered as she had slid into the SUV while he held the door for her.  She
had been sitting in silence ever since, with only the occasional yes or no to his
questions.  Questions he had ceased to ask, since attempting to make conversation
was foreign to him, and only seemed to make the situation more strained than it already
was.
	“So this is where you live?” he asked, pulling up in front of her appartment and
making one last  attempt at conversation.
	“This is it,” she said flatly, as she opened the door without waiting for him to open
it for her.  Silly how in the one day at the Shellington's she had gotten used to Andrew
opening the car doors for her, she thought.  Now she was back in the real world, she told
herself, and in reality she did things for herself.  She was an independent woman, and
she didn't need anyone to open a car door for her.  Or carry her pack for her, she added
to herself, as Simon fished her pack out of the back of the SUV and started to walk
around the vehicle with it.  
	 “I can take it from here,”  she said, curtly, and relieved him of her belongings. 
Clearly, having kissed her was an embarassment to him, she reasoned, and the sooner
they parted the sooner she could forget all about him and go on with her life.  There was
no need for pleasantries and walking her to the door, or inviting anyone in for coffee. 
Afterall, he had never really liked her anyway, the display of friendship over the past few
hours was simply for the benefit of the Shellingtons.  She bade him a polite good-bye,
thanked him for the ride, and disappeared into the alcove that shielded the door to her
appartment.
	Damn fool! Simon scolded himself as he drove away from her building.  She had
jumped at the chance to leave immediately, the minute he had suggested driving her
back to Phoenix, and they had left without having lunch.  It might be only just over an
hour and a half drive back to Tucson, but it was longer than he could wait for his next
meal.  With another muttered curse, Simon pulled the SUV into fast food restaurant and
swung around to the drive through window. 

	"Welcome home, we've been waiting for you."
	Logan stood staring at the man seated on the couch in her living room.  Her
heart   pounding in her chest, she turned quickly toward the door behind her, only to find
her way blocked by another menacing looking figure. 
 	"You really should be more careful who you choose to keep company with, Miss
McCoy,"  the man said, as he approached her.  She looked from one to the other and
backed away towards the wall, eyeing the doorway to the kitchen on the other side of the
room.
	"Who are you? How did you get into my appartment?" she demanded,
breathlessly. 
	"So many questions," said the man standing behind her, a wicked grin on his
face.  "I'm afraid we'll be the ones asking the questions from now on, though."
	"What do you want?" she asked, inching her way away from him as he moved
even closer to her.   
	"Please, sit down, Miss McCoy.  We just want to ask you a few questions, that's
all.  Tell us what we want to know, and no one will get hurt."
	This time it was the man on the couch who spoke, and when she turned her
attention to him, the other man made his move and she found herself held in an iron
grip.  She attempted to shake him off, but he held her tight, his fingers digging painfully
into her upper arms.  She gave another violent shake of her upper body and let out a
yelp as his grip became even tighter. 
	"Let me go, you big bully!" she yelled at him, but instead, he drew her after him
towards a chair on the other side of the room. 
	"Please, Miss McCoy!  There is no need to struggle. I told you, we only want to
ask you a few questions — about Simon Crestwater."  The man on the couch leaned
back, looking quite comfortable and eyeing her with a sly grin.  Logan gritted her teeth
and growled, which only seemed to amuse the man even more. 
	"What do you want to know about Simon?  I don't know anything about him," she
spat, and the man just shook his head casually.
	"On the contrary, Miss McCoy, I'm inclinded to believe you know quite a bit about
Mr. Simon Crestwater.  Enough to spend the night with him in a single room in a
secluded motel, for starters."  The man raised his brow at her, and she reacted with an
indignant gasp. The other man had almost reached the chair with her, though she
continued to struggle, making the journey as difficult for him as she could. 
	"Why you — !"  she spat out, and quickly stomped her foot down hard on his
instep.  It had occured to her that she was wearing her hiking boots, since they were the
only footwear she'd had with her other than the strappy sandles Dolores had bought her,
which she had left behind in Tucson.  Her aim had been good, she assumed, for the
man let out a loud cry and his grip on her arms loosened.  She took advantage of his
momentary lack of concentration to swing  her foot once again, this time connecting
squarely with his shin.  With the second yelp from him his grip loosened enough for her
to shake herself free, and she quickly darted towards the kitchen.
	Her path was blocked, however, by the man on the couch who made a leap in
her direction, and in midstep she spun around and ran back towards the front door,
toppling as much furniture behind her as she could to block the path of the two men. 
Just before she reached the door she sent a coat stand flying behind her, and it landed
in the chest of the man with the injured shin, narrowly missing his face.  As he flailed at it
he managed to toss it directly into the path of her other assailant, and in the confusion,
Logan slipped out the front door and fled toward the street.
	"McCoy!"
	The familiar voice startled her, and she spun around to see Simon standing
beside his SUV with the door open, looking worried.  She shot a panicked glance behind
her  just as the two men dashed out her front door into the open.  At the sight of Simon
they stopped dead in their tracks and looked at each other.  For a few seconds no one
moved, except Logan, who made a mad dash around the back of Simon's SUV.  He
turned to look at her in confusion, and the moment his head was turned the two men
made a quick detour towards a parked car.  By the time Simon realized they were
moving, they were screeching away from the curb and fishtailing around the first corner.
	"Simon!" Logan gasped, and collapsed, breathless, into his arms.
	He held her close, watching the car disappear around the corner.  "What was
that all about?"  he asked. Then realizing she was trembling in his arms, he opened the
back door of the SUV and eased her onto the seat. 
	"They were inside when I got home," she panted, leaning her head back against
the seat. 
	"Damn!" he slammed his fist down on the top of the vehicle and stared down the
street. "Who were they?  What were they after?"
	She shook her ehad.  "I've never seen them before.  Near as I could make out,
they wanted information, but I wasn't in the mood to hang around and talk much."
	"Information? About what?"
	 "You," she said flatly, 
	"Me?"  His gaze fell on her face, a thoughtful, concerned expression in his eyes. 
"What did they want to know about me?"
	Logan sighed, and shrugged.  "I don't know.  They just wanted to know
everything I knew about you."
	"And you told them what?"
	"I told them I didn't know anything about you,"  she said, shrugging again. She 
finally lifgted an inquisitive glance in his direction. . "What are you doing here anyway?"
	He tried to chuckle, but he was clearly still  concentrating on the two men.  "I was
hungry.  It occured to me that since you had planned for the project to last quite a bit
longer than it did, you probably didn't have any food in the house, and we left Tucson
without having lunch."  He leaned into the front seat and picked up the bag of fast food. 
"So, I decided to bring you something to eat."
	Logan closed her eyes and groaned as the smell of the food reached her.  "Oh, I
am so hungry!"
	Simon smiled, although he gave another worried glance down the street.  "Tell
you what, let's go inside and you can eat while I check the place out and make sure it's
safe?"
	Although Logan liked to think of herself as an independant woman, she made no
objection to this suggestion.  She was starving, and she was shaken.  She had never
been more glad to see anyone in her entire life than she had been when she'd seen
Simon standing by his SUV when she'd dashed out onto the street.  Thoughts of what
they might have done to her if they'd caught her again, and if Simon hadn't shown up,
made her shiver.  Simon must have seen it, for he immediately reached in to help her
out of the SUV and guided her back into the appartment. 
	"Whoa!" Simon exclaimed as he looked around the room at the overturned
furniture. "Looks like they ramsacked the place!"
	Logan chuckled.  "That was me.  I was throwing anything within reach into their
path to  keep the distance betwen us."
	Simon frowned.  "How did they get in here in the first place?"
	Logan shook her head.  "I don't know.  One of them was sitting right there when I
walked into the room," she pointed towards the couch, "and the other came in the door
behind me, blocking my escape.  He's the one who grabbed me."
	"Grabbed you?"  Simon suddenly shot her a concerned look. "Are you okay?"
	She smiled, albeit shakily, and held up her foot, showing off her hiking boot. 
"Yeah.  I came down hard on his foot then kicked him in the shin."   
	"Fiesty little thing, aren't you?"  he said, laughing with her then, and she was
finally able to breathe as she looked around the disaster of her living room.  His eyes
met hers, and were held there, then slowly travelled south, to her lips.  The lips he had
kissed the night before.  The kiss he could not risk repeating.  He shuffled slightly, then
cleared his throat and handed her the bag of food. 
	"Eat up.  I'm going to take a look around and see if I can figure out how they got
inside."
	She reached for the bag, and started pulling food out as he looked around the
room.  He spotted two doors off the livingroom, one of which was open and was clearly
the kitchen.  The other, he assumed, would be her bedroom.  As she bit into a
hamburger, he disappeared into the kitchen.
	After a thorough search of the kitchen, finding the door and windows secure, he
reappeared and glanced toward the other room.  "No sign of anyone breaking in through
here.  Do you mind?" he pointed toward the other door, and she turned to look at him.  
	"Go ahead," she said.  "I haven't been in there yet since I got home.  The bed's
made."  She spoke with a jovial tone, but when her eyes met his she quickly turned
away again.  He opened the door and stepped slowly  inside.  There was something
intimate about walking into a woman's bedroom, and Simon muttered to himself as he
looked around.  
	So this is where she sleeps, he thought, then reprimanded himself.  And it's none
of your business! You're here to check her windows, not her bed!  But when he tore his
gaze away from the bed and looked at the rest of the room, the frown on his face
burrowed even deeper. 
	"McCoy," he called, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. 
	He heard her gasp before he saw her, and  when he turned to the doorway she
was already there, standing with a hand over her mouth, eyes wide.  Although the room
was not overturned, drawers had been opened and left that way, and the curtain flapped
gently in the breeze.  As Logan looked around the room in disbelief, Simon moved to the
window.  As he had suspected, it was open, the locking mechanism torn from the
wooden frame.
	"I guess we know how they got in," he said, turning a worried glance toward her.
	Logan was shaking her head in disbelief.  "I just don't understand it.  I mean, if
they wanted to ask me questions about you, why didn't they just wait outside until I got
home and then knock on the door? Why did they have to break in?"
	"Probably they didn't know when you'd be coming back here and they figured
they'd see what they could find out on their own.  Maybe they weren't expecting to run
into you, and you just happend to show up when they were here."
	She felt a shiver run through her body and sat limply on the edge of the bed. 
"They knew I wasn't here," she said in an almost inaudible whisper. "At least, they
thought I wasn't — but what if I had been?  What if I'd been sleeping here when they'd
broken in that window?  What if you'd brought me home instead of taking me to Tucson
with you?"
	Simon sat beside ehr and pulled her close against him.  "But I didn't," he said,
trying to soothe her.  She turned a frieghtened look toward him.
	"They knew about the motel," she said flatly, as the memory of what the one man
had said returned to her.  "They knew we'd stopped at the motel in Globe after we left
the canyon!"
	The look of surprise she had expected to see on Simon's face never came. 
Instead, he heaved a heavy sigh and looked toward the window.  	"I know."
	"You what?!"  she asked, shifting slightly to face him better.  
	"Shhh!"  he rested a finger on her lips to silence her.  "Alright, I didn't know, but I
suspected something.  As soon as you said they knew we were there, it all made sense. 
When I left the motel room that morning there was a car parked behind a tree across the
parking lot.  I might not have thought anything of it, if I weren't a trained tracker and I
could see there was someone sitting in the driver's seat.  He was slouched down, but I
could tell he was there, and I caught the glint of light reflecting off something for a split
second.  It's the kind of flash I wanted you to avoid back in the canyon when you were
watching out for Jake.  The kind made by the sun reflecting on glass — either a camera
lens or binoculars. "
	"And you didn't say anything?"
	He sighed.  "I didn't want to worry you if it turned out to be nothing."
	"I see," she said, and looked around her bedroom one more time.  It had
angered her to find the strangers in her livingroom, and to know that they had broken in,
but to know they'd been in her bedroom — that they'd come right through her bedroom
window, and rifled through her personal things — she felt like her intimate privacy had
been violated.
	At long last he broke the silence.  "I'm sorry about this, McCoy.  It's all my fault.  I
have no idea what they could want to know about me that could have put you in such
danger, but I can guess it has something to do with Zimmerman and the project.  I'm so
sorry you've been put in the middle of things."