"Hit the road." Logan's expression was grim. "And get on your phone the minute you hit the highway. I want a call from ATF within thirty minutes offering to sell Monty to Sarah."
Madden began cursing.
"I'm not going to repeat myself." Logan took a step closer. "Listen to me. I was annoyed with you before, now I want to break your neck. Do what I tell you."
"I'm not afraid of you." But Madden backed away. He gave Sarah one last malevolent look as he got in the car. "You think you're so clever. Oh, you've got him now, but he'll get tired of you and I'll still be around."
"I don't doubt it," she said. "Cockroaches are great survivors."
"Unless they get stepped on," Logan said.
Madden opened his mouth and then closed it without speaking. A moment later he was in the car, streaking down the road.
"God, that felt good," Sarah said. It felt better than good, as if a gigantic weight had been taken off her shoulders. "Do you think he'll make the call?"
"I almost hope he doesn't." Logan turned on his heel and went into the house.
She stared at him in surprise before following him. "Why?"
"Because I want to crucify the son of a bitch." His tone was savage. "But you're feeling just fine because you punched that bastard in the nose, aren't you?"
"Yes. Why are you so angry? Madden attacked me and I took care of it."
"Did it occur to you that I would have done it for you?"
"No."
"I didn't think so."
"Why should you? It was my job."
"The hell it is."
"Stop pacing around the room and sit down. You've been on your feet too much today."
"I'll sit down when I feel like it."
She held up her hands. "Whatever you say. I don't care if your leg aches all night. It would serve you right." No, it wouldn't; he had just done her a great favor. She tried to hold on to her patience. "Look, I'm sorry I involved you in that ugliness with Madden. I owe you and I--"
"You don't owe me shit. We made a deal and I paid it. Do you think that's what this is all about?"
"All I know is that you're not behaving reasonably. It's not my fault that Madden is the bastard he is."
"It's your fault that you didn't let me help you. You're not alone in this world, you know. Would it have hurt you to let me protect you? Just once?"
She blinked. "I didn't need protection."
"No, you don't need anyone, do you? You're not wounded. You haven't got a scar to your name. Bullshit."
She stiffened. "Shut up, Logan. I'm sorry if your ego was hurt, but don't take it out on me."
"You should have let me help you."
"You did help me."
"Is that why your knuckles are bleeding?"
She looked down at her hand in surprise. "It's nothing. Just a graze."
He stopped before her. "And you're so tough that it didn't faze you."
"No, dammit, I was too busy trying to understand why you were overreacting to a little-- Let me go, Logan."
His hands tightened on her shoulders. "Why? Will you sock me too?"
"Maybe. If you deserve it." She looked up at him. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Nothing's wrong with me. No, that's a lie." He shook her. "You're driving me crazy. You're not alone in the world, dammit. You don't have to do everything for yourself."
"Let me go."
His hands opened and closed on her shoulders. "What's the matter? Are you afraid I'll jump you like your friend, Madden?"
"I know you better than that."
"Do you?"
Her chest tightened. He was gazing at her with an intentness that made her feel . . . She hurriedly looked away from him. "You're not Madden. And you said you were my friend. Was that a lie?"
He went still. "No." His hands dropped away from her shoulders. "It wasn't a lie." He walked back to the open doorway and stared at Madden's car, which was faintly visible in the distance. "And I'm not Madden. Why didn't you tell me you were lovers?"
"You didn't need to know to help me. It wasn't important."
"No? It feels damn important."
"It shouldn't. That was a long time ago and doesn't affect the present situation. The only use he has for me these days is to help his career."
"And what about you?"
"Get real."
"What about you?" he repeated.
"For God's sake, I was only a kid. I met him right after I joined ATF. I was lonely and I thought he-- He was very smooth. He fooled me for over six months. Then I broke it off. He didn't like it."
"Evidently." He didn't look at her. "He clearly found you very entertaining."
She felt heat rise to her face. "So?"
"Just commenting. I take it he's been fucking you in other ways since you stopped letting him come to your bed."
"That was crude."
"But true."
She didn't speak for a moment. "Yes. He always wanted to be the one holding the whip."
"I trust you're not speaking literally. I think even you would have said no to--" He broke off and shook his head. "Sorry. That wasn't necessary."
"No, and that was crude too. And none of your damn business."
"You're right. As I said, I'm sorry." He turned around to face her. "I suppose I felt a little hurt that you'd close me out. Friends don't do that."
The tension between them was gone, she realized with relief. Or had it just eased? She'd take it either way. "I never said I was your friend."
"But you are, aren't you?"
Days of closeness and working together. Nights of tending Maggie. Jokes, humor, familiarity. "I suppose I am," she said slowly.
"You're damn right you are. I've worked too hard to make sure you--"
The phone rang.
"I'll get it." Logan crossed the room in four steps and picked up the phone. "She's not available. This is John Logan. Talk to me." He listened for a few moments. "I'll have someone stop by your office with a certified check within the hour. Give him a notarized bill of sale in exchange. Thanks." He hung up the phone and turned back to her. "Sanders with ATF. He said he's the head of the K9 unit. You know him?"
"He's my boss." Excitement was surging through her. "Madden called him? He's going to sell me Monty?"
He nodded. "Tomorrow you'll have the papers on him."
Oh, God, it was too good to be true. After all this time and heartache, it was going to happen. "Really?"
He smiled. "Really."
Her knees felt weak. She sank down in the easy chair. "I was afraid he wouldn't do it. I couldn't believe . . ."
"Believe."
Monty was hers. No more threats. He was safe.
Logan's gaze was on her face. "You're . . . radiant."
She felt radiant. She felt as glowing as the sun. "He's safe."
"Yes."
She closed her eyes. "I've been so worried about him. Dogs are helpless. They can't protect themselves from cruelty."
"But you protected him."
She opened her eyes as she felt his handkerchief touch her cheek. "What are you doing?"
"You're crying." He wiped her tears and then handed her the handkerchief. "Why do women always cry when they're happy? It doesn't make sense." He went over to the sink. "And it's disconcerting as hell."
"Why?"
"Tears are a sign of sorrow, and it's primitive instinct for a man to try to heal sorrow in a woman." He was returning to her carrying a damp dish towel. "It messes up our minds when there's no sorrow to heal. Give me your hand."
"What?"
"You're bleeding." He took her right hand and gently dabbed her bruised knuckles with the towel. "And that's a wound I can heal."
"It's barely a--"
"Hush. You've got a wicked right hook. Where did you learn it?"
"Ray Dawson."
"Who's Ray Dawson?"
"He's a fireman, one of my EMT instructors. He said that in natural disasters or tragedies people sometimes go crazy. Looters, relatives of people you can't manage to save. You have to be able to protect yourself."
"I can see that." He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the bruised knuckles. "To make it better. Not scientific, but it satisfies my primitive instinct." He rose to his feet. "I have to call Margaret and make sure that she gets a man out to ATF headquarters right away. Anything else I can do for you?"
She shook her head.
"Sure? Dragons to slay? A diamond tiara?"
"You've done enough. Thank you."
"Enough for you, but what about me?"
"What about you?"
"I like this. It makes me feel ten feet tall making you look like you do right now. I think it may be addictive."
She swallowed. "You'll get over it."
"I'm not sure. We'll see." He pulled out his phone. "But evidently it's making you uneasy, so I'll go outside and make my call."
As soon as he walked out the door, she released the breath she hadn't known she was holding. Christ, she was actually shaking. The last thirty minutes had been too charged with emotion: anger, relief, bewilderment, joy.
And lust.
Don't dodge it. It was lust she had felt, lust for Logan. Strong and hot and basic.
He had felt it too.
But he hadn't pushed. He had stepped back and turned away.
And she had been disappointed. Stupid. God, that was stupid. A sexual involvement was the last thing she needed with a man like Logan. He was too strong and dominant and would interfere with her life.
But why would he interfere? They could be just ships that pass in the night. There was no way he would want any kind of commitment. She was really nothing to him.
Stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about him.
She got to her feet and moved toward the back porch. Monty was lying next to Maggie as usual but looked up and lazily wagged his tail.
"Some friend you are." She knelt beside them. "Here Logan and I have been working to get you out from under Madden, and you're in here making eyes at Maggie."
Beautiful. Love.
"How do you know? Maybe it's sex."
Love.
"Maybe." She stroked his head. "But you'll have to convince Maggie. She'll demand a commitment. She'll mate for life." But the bond between men and women wasn't as unshakable. A long time ago she had hated her mother's emotional instability and been determined to marry for life. But that was a child's dream. She had learned in a hard school that relationships between men and women were often casual and fleeting.