Mystical Love (90 page)

“So dark out there. So dark and so forever.”

Sighing, Logan sat up. He'd not ask what that enigmatic statement meant. She was experiencing some distant memory, while his body craved sex. Nothing but a cold shower would power down his current arousal. As for her, he didn't know what would help her senses power down.

“I didn't mean to lead you on, Logan,” Sonny stated. “My emotions are a mess, and I've never felt such an exhilarating response to any man. I'm teetering between untethered desire and angry warmth. The effect is like a graveyard.”

Seeing her trembling limbs, Logan bolted from the sofa. He stopped behind her. “You don't owe me an explanation—or an apology,” he said. “You're still the most amazing person I've ever met, and no pleasurable make-out session will ever alter that fact. I should apologize to
you
, but I'm not going to, because I intend to kiss you as often as you'll let me. And I assure you, you are going to let me.” She whirled around then, floored by his words. Seeing her mouth open, he placed a finger over her lips and grinned. “No, it's our fantasies that make life bearable.” He winked at her, and her laugh was like a whinny. “Now let me get some shut-eye,” he said. “Kissing you has worn me out. And don't stray from this room,” he added, seeing her move. “It's clear someone would love to get you alone.”

She took up residence in the nearby window embrasure, ignoring him and studying the pelting rain outside.

Grinning, Logan swung his legs up onto the couch. In seconds, he had settled back and let his senses reach into the raging storm. Two minutes later, the real world drifted into oblivion.

The storm raged over the cabin, rattling glass windows and continuing to pelt the ground with hail the size of golf balls. From her vantage point in the window embrasure, Sonny studied the jagged streaks of light permeating the eastern skyline. Would the storm never budge from their location? Its fury had become relentless.

Her gaze scoured the oppressive cloud cover, and she lifted her fingers and brushed her lips. She could still feel Logan's kiss and the excitement that mounted within him. The dormant sexuality of her body had been awakened at that moment, leaving her to realize she liked the curve of his mouth, the rush of warmth between them, and the graceful strength of his hands as he explored her breasts.

A booming thunderclap doused the arcing light, and she winced. She hadn't enjoyed the interruption of the moment, though. One minute, her heart had slammed into her ribs, and the next, a feeling of great torment had saturated her body. A terrible sense of humiliation had followed, and the strong gnawing had severed the wild surge of pleasure between Logan and her.

The sky dumped another round of hail onto the rafters of the roof. Mother Nature had gone wet and wild, and though beautiful to watch, Sonny knew the hidden treachery behind the storm.

She glanced over her shoulder at the man sleeping on the leather sofa. She wished she had his power to ignore problems and sleep like a baby. She hopped from the window suddenly. The room was turning cold under the damp, charged air outside. She passed a wingback chair, grabbed a crocheted lap robe off the back, and laid it gently across Logan's sleeping form. As the coverlet fell, she scanned the dark shadows on his cheek and his long, sooty eyelashes. She wondered how she could be offering the man warmth of a blanket, when by all rights she should be smothering him with it. He had declared his intention to kiss her as often as possible, arrogant enough to believe she would let him.

She listened to his even breathing, observing the rise and fall of his chest. He was dead to the world, and not even rain, wind, and thunder could put a dent in his blissful euphoria.

Whirling around, Sonny's glance found the ornate clock on the mantle. Two a.m. Morning was only hours away. What would be the best way to field Ned's and her aunt's questions without drawing suspicion? She knew if she went at them head-on, she would be goaded into revealing she knew about The Pandora Project.

Had Foster told the truth? Was she Amanda King?
That's the $64,000 question, kiddo,
her inner voice advised.

Yes, and if we're ever to get through the rest of our life without going insane, we need to learn the answer.

Hearing the sound of wind whistling up the lower staircase, Sonny shivered. It felt like the lower outside door had blown open from the howling winds. Though Logan had warned her to stay nearby, she had to check it, or the mud room would be flooded. Besides, she needed time away from the toad. His good looks were a distraction, and she needed to get her mind around Foster's revelation and then create a plan of action to obtain the Pandora disc.

She moved across the room and down the stairs, startled to find the outside basement door standing wide open, raindrops splattering the floor. Lifting her gaze, she saw Ned shaking his trench coat free of raindrops. Alongside him, her aunt was scraping mud off her boots and scowling.

Ned spotted her first, greeting her immediately. “Did you think we would leave you to fend for yourself in this dismal storm?”

“I'm not alone, Ned,” Sonny said, annoyed. “Logan's here.” He ignored her words, and Sonny hid a frown. This wasn't good. The pair had come to ambush her now, instead of waiting until morning. Ned's grim expression clearly telegraphed some sort of displeasure with her. Had they heard about Foster's death already?

Ned was the first to reach the staircase. “You look tired, Sonny.”

Sonny contemplated telling him she
was
tired—tired of all the lies, the mothering, and the smothering … She halted the thought and addressed his concern instead.

“I can't sleep. Storms jar my brainwaves. Why are you two up so late?” She moved off the staircase and joined her aunt, who was making herself comfortable in one of the empty lounge chairs. Sonny hopped into the window embrasure on her left. Her aunt leaned back, addressing Sonny.

“Ned feared you had been caught in the storm; he offered to check on you. I couldn't let him come alone. The roads are under water all around the property. You know how much water a storm like this can drop in a matter of minutes; his van could've fishtailed and slipped into a swale. I offered to follow him, in case his van hit one of those pockets.”

“Which it didn't,” Ned replied irritably. His eyes became flat and as unreadable as stone. “What have you been doing all day?” he asked, switching subjects and shedding his trench coat. He hung it over the back of a second wingback, rounded the chair, and took a seat. “We didn't see you at lunch.”

“I've been showing Logan the sights, touristy things.”

“Where did you say the fellow was?” Ned asked, glancing around.

“He's sleeping in the great room.”

Keeping her attention on the rain sheets pinging off the window, Sonny crossed her fingers and prayed the pair wouldn't ask her where they had gone. She tucked her feet beneath her, curling deeper into the embrasure, and prepared to do battle with Ned first. He was always the first to use frigid silence as foreplay. It was an irritating habit, but for once she was glad she knew how to recognize it. It allowed her to prepare for the upcoming attack.

“How soon before this case with Logan Reed is solved, Sonny?”

Sonny's gaze flew to Ned's face. There it was. He was asking a question that she could sense had a double meaning.

“You don't have the right to ask me that, Ned,” she replied.

The chains of his necklace clanked loudly. “Though it is rare for me to ever interfere in your life, I must be protective of the company now that David is gone. I don't need to tell you things are tense since the staff has heard the news.”

Sonny's eyes narrowed. What was he after with this low-key attack? He tended towards straight-on accusations. She cocked her head at him, ignoring her aunt's brief stir in her chair.

“Are you planning to call Meta Corps and have Logan taken off the case?” she asked. “If you are, let me warn you I won't allow it. His reputation would be damaged beyond repair.”

“Since when do you worry about a Meta Corps agent's career?” her aunt asked. “You're not falling under his spell, are you?”

Sonny's mouth twitched with amusement. “Absolutely not. I read him the moment we met. He's bright, witty, and extremely good at what he does. He has no ulterior motive in being here that I can see—except to solve a case of serial murders.”

“He's arrogant,” her aunt chided.

“You forgot extremely handsome,” Sonny quipped.

Her aunt grimaced. “Don't take that sarcastic tone with me. This is not the time for you to add romantic stress to your life. Send the man back to New York with your apologies and a promise to help in another case. With David's death, and the press looming, Meta Corps will understand.”

“I don't renege on my contracts, Aunt Charlotte, and for your information, there is no romantic stress in my life.”

“There will be if you allow Logan Reed to monopolize your time,” Ned threw in. “After all, dozens of people outside this company would enjoy harming you, or marrying you, for no other reason than that you're rich.”

Sonny stifled a giggle. Ned actually thought Logan Reed was after her money. The thought was so ludicrous Sonny did laugh aloud.

“I'm sorry, Ned. I don't mean to laugh. You're looking out for me, and I love you for it. But you are way off base in this case. Logan is not after my money or anything that belongs to Blake Industries.”

“How can you be so sure? He strikes me as a very cunning young man. And whether you'd like to admit it or not, he showed up at The Sanctuary the very moment your father was killed. Perhaps Meta Corps arranged the murder and then sent their best agent to cover their tracks. After meeting you, he may have become fixated on you. After all, you are a stunning woman.”

Sonny knew she should be pleased by the compliment; however, she felt her skin crawl at the words instead. Why did the thought of Ned thinking of her as a stunning woman throw her off her game? She felt a light touch on her shoulder, surprised to find her aunt had risen.

“We have been protecting you since you were born, Sonny, and we have done a damn fine job of it.”

Sonny glanced at the fingers skimming her collarbone. But what had occurred during those twenty-eight years, she wondered. Altering memories, using patients as guinea pigs? She shook her head to rid herself of the unwanted thought.

“If you're insinuating I am not grateful for the love you give me, Aunt Charlotte, you're way off base. I've always shown my gratitude to you and Uncle Brad. Your kindness after my mother died got me through some dark days; however, I'm grown now, and old enough to have a man sweep me off my feet.”

Her aunt scoffed loudly. “It's clear we shielded you too much from the real world while you were growing up. Along comes a handsome agent who plies you with compliments, and you begin acting out—like a teenager.”

“Nothing is going on between Logan and me, Aunt Charlotte. We're working a case together.”

“A case that no decent empath would've taken,” her aunt remarked. She shivered in emphasis. “Peeking into the deaths of young girls can only be considered voyeuristic.”

“You think I'm enjoying the brutality of it all?”

“Don't twist my words.”

“Then don't stand there and accuse me of being indecent, when the truth is, the victims' families need closure. If I can give them that, I intend to.”

Ned's chains jangled loudly again. “Can the argument, you two,” he interrupted. “What your aunt is trying to say is that we know how hard you've been working the past year. We don't want you to overextend your abilities by delving into some sordid world of debauchery and murder—especially with the week we're facing.”

Sonny hissed her displeasure. “I decide when my abilities are overextended, Ned, not you or the family. I agreed to help Meta Corps because I can. They sent Logan because he's extremely good at working with empaths. It's a perfect match. I only wish everyone would stop treating him like a leper. It's pathetic how badly we treat our guests and endanger their lives.”

Ned's head whirled about abruptly. “What do you mean endanger? Has someone tried to harm Agent Reed?”

Sonny suppressed the urge to scream. She had to start paying attention to what she was saying. Any slip of the tongue could send her into revealing Pandora. Ned was now out of his chair and bearing down on her, and she held up her hand, sliding to the edge of the windowsill.

“Don't go twisting my words, Ned. I said what I mean. The entire family has been extremely rude to Logan since he arrived, and it's embarrassing.”

Sonny hopped from the window and headed for the staircase. She needed to wake Logan at once. She needed backup, and she needed it now. She heard footsteps and whirled around, surprised to find her aunt following her to the steps. Her tone was emphatic when she reached Sonny.

“There's some trouble at the Sans Springs office that needs handling. This is the perfect opportunity for us to meet with the press and take care of company business at the same time. I'll go with you, of course. Ned can't go. He's knee-deep in appointments, and so is your uncle. Together, we should be able to wrap the problem up in three days, tops. I'm sure Logan will understand if you need a few days to take care of Sanctuary business. He can enjoy all the retreat's amenities while we're gone. After all, The Sanctuary is a perfect vacation spot for overworked agents.” She hauled out her cell phone. “I'll make arrangements for the company jet.”

Sonny snatched the phone from her fingers. “Are you ordering me to Sans Spring, Aunt Charlotte?”

“Far from it,” she said, snatching the phone back. “I'm thinking of the company. David's death has shot holes in so many of our upcoming projects that it'll take us at least six months to recover. Besides, you don't want to end up like your father, do you?”