Mr. Dangerously Sexy

“Have there been any other emails like this?” he asked, smoothing the paper down flat on his desk.

“Not that we’ve seen. I’ve put a flag on this email address so I’ll know if he tries to contact anyone in the company from this point on.” Rhys bobbed his head. “Addison isn’t worried about this guy, but I don’t think we can ignore him.”

“You should have come to me first.” Logan raked a hand through his hair.

The vile words glared up at him from the paper, the threats waving at him like giant red flags. How could Addison have thought this was nothing?

Because she’d rather prove herself to be independent than come to you for help.

“It’s addressed to her, Logan. What would she have done if I took it you first?” He threw his hands up in the air. “I get that you two have this weird tug-of-war thing going on, but I’m sick of walking on eggshells around you two instead of doing my job.”

“If you see anything else like this come in, you come to me. Got it?” He banged his fist down on the desk. “I don’t care if the email says ‘top fucking secret, for Addison’s eyes only’ in big bold letters.”

Rhys sighed. “Fine. But you’ll have to back me up when she flips out.”

“If she’s alive and well enough to be shouting, then I’m happy.”

He’d promised Addison’s father—the man who’d been his boss and his mentor—that he would always look out for her. That he would keep her safe from this crazy, screwed-up world they lived in. Only once had he broken that vow. One night two years ago, when his willpower had failed him and he’d given in to the desire he’d managed to keep at bay for almost a decade.

“I’ve got my team looking into the sender’s details,” Rhys said. “But I’m not sure how much we’ll be able to turn up from a webmail account. People don’t usually use their real details, especially if they’re planning to send emails like this.”

“Just find out whatever you can.”

Rhys nodded. “You know she’s going to be all by herself this weekend, right?”

“No, she’s not.” Logan folded the printed email up small enough to fit in his pocket. “Addison is going to have a guest at the cottage, whether she likes it or not.”

2 (#ulink_9d11d0f6-2fb5-50d8-9005-ba42a5b42172)

ADDISON ROLLED HER shoulders as she settled in for the last leg of her journey. After driving for more than three hours, her muscles were desperate for a stretch, and she wanted something to eat that wasn’t birdseed masquerading as an energy bar. Thankfully, it wouldn’t be long until she reached her father’s cottage on Cayuga Lake. Then she could reheat the lasagna she’d prepared last night and crack open a bottle of wine. Her stomach grumbled at the thought of a hot meal.

“Just a little farther,” she said to her reflection in the rearview mirror. As if in response, her phone vibrated. “Again, Logan?”

He’d been calling every half hour or so since she’d made it through Newark. Despite ignoring him because her phone’s hands-free unit wasn’t hooked up, it had become clear he had a bee in his bonnet. That was Logan in a nutshell: dogged persistence.

Addison pulled over at a gas station and killed the engine so she could answer the phone. “Okay, crazy person. What’s going on?”

“Where are you?”

She pushed the door open and got out of the car. The air was balmy with summer warmth and she took the opportunity to get the blood flowing through her limbs. “I’m on my way to the cottage.”

“No, I mean specifically.” There was an urgency in his voice that made the hairs on her arms stand on end.

She told him the name of the gas station as she walked through its doors. Bright, harsh lighting made her squint and she was hit with a chilly blast of air-conditioning. If Logan was going to hold her up, she may as well grab a drink.

“What’s going on?” she asked as she opened the door to the refrigerator, stilling at the bellowing sound of a semi’s horn on the other end of the line. “Are you on the road?”

Silence.

“Logan Matthew Dane, you better tell me what the hell is going on right now.” She grabbed a Diet Coke and marched to the cashier. The man behind the counter eyed her warily as she handed the money over to him with what must have been a murderous look in her eyes. “If you intend on ruining my relaxing weekend I swear to God—”

“I saw the email.”

She groaned. “Then tell Rhys he’s fired. I mean it, turn around right now and go fire him.”

“That might be difficult.”

Addison wedged the phone between her ear and her shoulder so she could open her drink. “Why would that be difficult?”

“I’m already on the interstate.”

Goddammit. “You’re coming to the cottage?”

She walked out of the gas station, shaking her head. If Logan showed up tonight she would send him straight back home. Or at the very least, to the nearest town. Spending the weekend alone with Logan Dane was not in her plans.

“I’ll be there shortly,” he said. “And don’t take it out on Rhys. He did the right thing.”

“So the right thing is not listening to his boss when she gives him a direct order?” She leaned against her car and tipped her drink up to her lips. “I know for damn sure you wouldn’t let anyone pull that shit on you.”

Another car had driven into the gas station, and the guy gave Addison a sleazy once-over as he filled the tank of his red truck. Grimacing, she turned away.

“That’s beside the point. In this case, we need to take precautions.” Logan sighed. “I realize this isn’t what you had planned for the weekend. But the cottage is huge. You won’t even know I’m there. Unless of course you think my presence is too strong for you to ignore...”

“Your ego is too strong for me to ignore.”

“Ahh, come on. I’m looking out for you, Addi. I promised your dad—”

“I remember what you promised him. But you’re all overreacting. There is no threat. That email was sent days ago, and if Rhys hadn’t found it we’d be none the wiser.” She screwed the cap back onto her drink. “And I would be about to enjoy a peaceful weekend without having you around to bug me.”

“I won’t apologize for being careful when it comes to your well-being.”

She wanted to ask why he thought her well-being was his business. Or his responsibility. But she already knew the answer to that. Two years ago, during her father’s final hospital visit—the cancer eating away at his frail body—he’d passed the baton for her protection over to Logan. It was bad enough that he’d chosen Logan to fill his shoes as the head of Cobalt & Dane, but he hadn’t even trusted her to take care of herself.

“Don’t go into the cottage until I get there,” he added. “Wait in your car and keep the doors locked. I’m not far behind you.”

Gritting her teeth, she ended the call and slid into the driver’s seat. This weekend was going to be a freaking nightmare.

On the bright side, at least now she could count on Logan being at the retreat on time. A wicked smile curved on her lips. If he wanted to play protector all weekend, then she’d give him something productive to do. He hated spreadsheets with a passion, so she’d hand him some of the biannual forecasts to read. That should keep him busy.

She turned the engine over and flicked on her headlights. The sun had dropped significantly since she’d arrived at the gas station. It would be pitch-black soon, and the cottage would be dark. Secluded.

What if Logan and Rhys were right? A shiver raced the length of her spine.

“There’s no stalker, just like there’s no bogeyman,” she reminded herself. “There’s no zombies, no killer llamas, no Freddy Krueger and no...whatever the hell that thing was in Donnie Darko.”

But the words didn’t comfort her. A tiny seed of fear had been planted by the email, and now it was flourishing under Logan’s paranoia. She tapped the lock button and with a click, all four doors secured her inside. Shaking her head, she cursed herself for letting Logan get to her.

As she pulled onto the empty road leading toward the cottage, her lights swept across the horizon. Tall trees rushed past her windows in a blur of deep green. Growing up, the cottage had been her happy place—a haven where she’d spent time with her father and did all the things his busy schedule ordinarily excluded. Like fishing, inspecting butterflies and making homemade pizza.