“Sorry, I have to go feed my dog.” She eyed him suspiciously, and he cast her an innocent look. “What? You don’t believe a man like me would have a dog?”
She didn’t know what to believe. But she was suddenly intensely curious to see where he lived, to know more about this man. Because she knew so very little, and inadvertently he’d played a huge part in her life. Would maybe play an even bigger part in the years to come. She should know more about him. It was a responsibility. She’d done the basic amount of research on him, gone through the files to check that she wasn’t introducing some hard-core criminal into Jenny’s life. But he’d been clean since that one youthful indiscretion. In her experience people went two ways after a time in prison. Either they somehow turned themselves around, or they got worse. Logan must have made the decision to keep out of trouble, though he obviously came from a wealthy background, which would have helped. His father had owned the nightclub where they’d first met.
“How did you know where to find me?” she asked. She was pretty sure he hadn’t known she was a police officer yesterday.
“My father. He was convinced he’d seen you around somewhere—he has an extremely suspicious nature. He asked around, and in the end one of the bouncers said he recognized you from a recent brush with the law. Apparently you took down his particulars.”
“Nice company you keep.”
“Actually, he’s an okay guy, just has a hot temper and a crap tolerance for alcohol.”
They were driving through an upmarket residential area now, wide streets with Georgian houses set back from the road by large gardens. They were close to Hampstead Heath, one of her favorite parts of London. It wasn’t the sort of area she would have expected him to live—though again, what did she really know of him?
He turned off the road and pulled up in front of a set of metal gates. After he pressed a button on the dashboard, they opened and he drove through, along a curved drive that led to the front of a beautiful Georgian mansion. She knew a little about property prices around here, and this had to be worth millions.
“You live here?”
“Yeah. I moved here a few months ago. I lived in an apartment before that, in the city center, but then I sort of inherited the dog and…” He shrugged. “This place backs onto the Heath. It’s perfect.”
He’d moved house for a dog?
He climbed out while she was still trying to process the information, and came around and opened the door. She scrambled out, suddenly off balance.
The house was big, with a wide staircase leading up to a dark red front door, seeming more a family home than somewhere a bachelor would live.
“You’re not married are you?”
“Christ, no.”
His answer was emphatic. Obviously, not a big fan of marriage then.
What a surprise.
She stood for a moment staring up at the building, wondering what the hell she was doing here. Had she been totally deluded? She’d thought that she could keep her emotional distance, tell him about Jennifer, and allow him limited, controlled access if he wanted it. And it would all be smooth and painless. She’d always liked everything nice and clean cut, organized. As a child she’d striven to be the perfect daughter, then the perfect mother. She worked hard to be the best she could at her job. Now she had a weird sensation that she was about to screw up majorly. For one thing, she was getting the inkling that Logan wasn’t going to be controlled about anything.
She cast him a quick glance. He was standing by the front door, looking down at her. She couldn’t read his face; he was amazingly good at hiding his expression, though as she stared, something hot and dark gleamed in his silver eyes. He pushed open the front door and stretched out a hand toward her. “Welcome to my humble abode.”
Hmm, there was absolutely nothing humble about Logan, including his abode. But she forced herself to step forward, jumping as the front door clicked shut behind her. She was in a wide hallway, decorated in cream and dark red. It felt like a home. A number of doors led off from the central area and a staircase led up to the upper floor. The floors were wood and everything gleamed. She became aware of a scrabbling noise as Logan headed toward the door opposite. “Stand back,” he muttered and opened the door.
A huge dog hurtled out, sliding on the shiny wood floor. An unrecognizable breed, maybe some Great Dane, Alsatian, a few other things. He hurled himself on Logan, who rubbed his head, then the dog turned and raced toward Abby. She held her ground and he skidded to a halt, thrust his head against her groin, and snuffled.
Abby crouched down, pushed him away slightly, and stroked his massive head. “He’s lovely.”
“He’s a total monster. My brother took him in as a stray then decided he wanted to go traveling.”
“So you took him.”
“He’s a guard dog.”
Someone who liked dogs couldn’t be all bad. “Of course he is.”
“You like dogs?”