Safe Haven

She tried not to watch the way his muscles moved under the smooth skin as he slipped it on. She swallowed. “Mr. Wilson gave me a ride.”

Logan nodded. “He’s a neighbor. You say I was supposed to pick you up at the bus station today?”

“Three hours ago, actually,” she said, and barely managed to keep the irritation out of her voice.

“Me? Logan Monahan?”

She was becoming impatient with his questions. “That’s right. You did hire me, after all.”

“Did I?” Logan knew he was making her nervous, but he didn’t give a damn. His first impression was that she was a strikingly beautiful young woman, with her long, jet-black hair and clear gray eyes. Maybe eleven or twelve years his junior—twenty-eight, or younger. She carried herself proudly, shoulders straight and her full breasts thrust out.

A closer look made him scowl. Although her skin was a beautiful milky-white, there wasn’t a drop of color in her cheeks. She looked strained, exhausted. The kissable mouth seemed to tremble. She appeared too thin and a bit wired, as if she were running on air and sheer guts.

“Oh, hell,” he grumbled under his breath. She resembled a wounded animal. All his life he had tried to fix what was hurt. He hadn’t always managed, though.

“I hired you?” he asked again.

Avery felt light-headed, but there was no way she was going to end up a fainting female—not in front of this man. With a hand that shook, she reached for the truck’s tailgate and sat.

“I believe your specifications were very exact,” she said, “and I was the only one to fit the job description. You needed someone with computer savvy and bookkeeping skills, a no-frills cook, a general dogsbody to do light housekeeping, even-tempered and easy on the eye.”

“You mean I didn’t demand a strong back and good teeth, too?” Logan propped one worn boot on the side of the tailgate and gave her a long, amused look. She tried to hide her quick smile by ducking her head.

“Denise didn’t mention those.”

“But you fit the bill otherwise?”

She steeled herself. “Yes, indeed, and feel free to call Denise if you want to double-check my qualifications.” Oh, she was qualified, all right. She just couldn’t back up any of her qualifications. The only one willing to vouch for her was Denise Kirk, and they’d been best friends since they were ten. Denise would lie, cheat and steal for her. Fortunately, so far her friend had only had to lie.

Logan laughed. Then he said, “I think I see my father’s hand in this. He’s Logan Monahan, Senior. Mac to his friends and enemies. He has a few other names I won’t mention—they’re for when he sticks his nose where it doesn’t belong, which happens to be most of the time.”

A heavy sick feeling settled in her stomach like a brick. “You mean I came to the wrong place? Your father hired me?”

“No and yes. And no again. Oh, hell.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t need any help.”

She’d come so far, traveled by bus, of all things. She’d borrowed money from Denise for clothes and the ticket, and now it appeared she didn’t have a job. She didn’t even have the money to buy a return ticket. If she wasn’t so determined to keep from falling apart in front of this man, she would have thrown up all over his boots.

Anything she might have said fled from her mind when a vehicle suddenly appeared around the corner of the barn and skidded to a stop beside the truck. Avery scrambled off the tailgate and jumped back from the cloud of dust and sprayed gravel that pinged against the truck. Unfortunately she backed into Logan Monahan. He placed his hands on her shoulders to steady her as they watched a young woman vault from the driver’s side.

“Dammit, Jessie,” Logan snapped. “You know better than to drive like that. Are you trying to kill yourself or me?”

Avery had the sudden sensation of being drilled clean through by a pair of knife-sharp, green eyes. Just as quickly, she was apparently dismissed as inconsequential, for the girl, Jessie, suddenly had eyes only for the man towering behind her. Avery figured her best bet was to keep quiet and let the little drama play itself out.

Jessie, she noted, couldn’t have been more than twenty. She reminded Avery of her own sister at that age, all brashness and swagger. The girl was beautiful, tall and slim, with an abundance of strawberry-blond hair, but it didn’t take much to see she was also spoiled and used to getting her way.

“I heard in town that Gus brought a woman out here, and Mac told. me you’d hired a housekeeper. You really didn’t need to do that, Logan.”

Logan’s hands were still on Avery’s shoulders, which she was all too aware of. She suddenly felt she was being used as a shield. Why, she wasn’t sure, though she sensed. Logan was in some distress. She stuck out her hand. “Hi, I’m Avery Jensen.”

“Oh, yeah. Hi,” Jessie said, rudely ignoring the extended hand. “Really, Logan, if you needed help, you should have asked me.” She glanced at Avery. “I’d be happy to drive you back to the bus station, and I’m sure Logan or Mac would compensate you for your time and inconvenience, but you see—”

“Shut up, Jessie. You don’t run things around here. The woman’s here and I’m going to give her a try.”

“But, Logan—”

“Drop it, Jess.” He waited as an older man climbed slowly from the truck. “Dad, I take it this is the young lady you stood up this morning.”

Mac Monahan dusted his hands on his thighs, pulled off his Stetson, then stuck out a hand to Avery. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I could have sworn that woman from the agency told me you’d be arriving tomorrow morning on the bus.”

“It’s okay,” Avery said. “Really it is. I managed.”

Mac laughed and turned a fierce scowl on his son. “You see, here’s a gal who thinks for herself. Took the bull by the horns and got out here on her own. Why don’t you let go of her, Logan? You’re holding on like she’s a fence post or something.”

Logan jerked his hand off her shoulders and took a step back. It was apparent to Avery that he was furious with his father.

“You old coot,” Logan grumbled. “You manipulated this little scene.”

“Logan, you don’t need a housekeeper.” The seductive tone in Jessie’s voice didn’t disguise the whine.

“Hush, gal,” Mac said. “This is Logan’s call.”

Logan gave a rough bark of laughter. “How kind of you, Dad,” he said, “for allowing me to run my life.”

Avery cringed inside. It hadn’t taken long for her to realize what was going on. At another time or place, she would have excused herself and been out of there in a second. Then again, if she’d been smart and less trusting, she’d never have gotten herself into this mess in the first place. Since walking away wasn’t an option, she had to endure being talked over, while the young woman shot dagger looks at her.

“I guess I’d better show Avery her living quarters,” Logan said wearily.

“No!” Jessie shouted, and looked ready to stomp her foot in a fit of temper.

With his son’s words, Mac perked up. “Great. Was that your gear I saw on the porch, Miss Avery? I’ll go fetch it.”

She didn’t know what had happened, but everything abruptly changed. Logan had hold of her arm now and she was being forcibly led away. “Just the one suitcase and my purse,” she said over her shoulder. “Thank you, Mr. Logan.”

“Everyone calls me Mac, honey.”

“Come along, Miss Avery,” Logan said. “My father is too damn pleased with himself as it is to have you batting your pretty eyes at him. Now, I’ve had a long night and hard morning. Maybe I’ll be able to hold a more intelligent conversation after some rest.”

She didn’t want to rock the boat of good fortune, so clamped her mouth against any notion of a tart comeback. She went with him silently and obediently, managing another quick glance over her shoulder to see that Jessie was following them at a discreet distance. From the look on the young woman’s face, Avery had made an enemy. It was easy to see that Jessie was besotted with Logan Monahan. Poor dear, Avery thought. She knew all too well that feeling. Look where it had gotten her.

When they arrived at the one-story Victorian, Avery couldn’t restrain a grin as Logan gave an irritable swat at the vines that tickled the side of his face. “I’d be willing to bet my father had the place cleaned out,” he grumbled.

“He does seem like the take-charge type.”

Logan laughed. “He’s a pest, and when he gets a burr under his seat, it’s best to let him have his way—for a while.” Logan placed his hand on the doorknob and looked at her. “Don’t get too comfortable. I’m a hard man to please.”

“From your father’s specific requirements, I figured that out for myself.” She decided he probably didn’t respond well to sass, and bit her lip.

Logan opened the door and pushed it wide. Avery squeezed past him, making sure she kept her gaze straight ahead and not focused on the exposed skin peeking from his unbuttoned shirt. “Oh, it’s wonderful!” she said and meant it. There was a small living room furnished with a comfortable chintz sofa and an overstuffed chair. The tiny kitchen was separated from it by a counter that would serve as a table. She walked around the room, then opened the only other door and found a furnished bedroom and bath. “This will do just fine.”