Page 90 of Duty Devoted
Four days.Four days of Logan as my constant shadow, and I still couldn’t look at him without feeling that familiar twist of hurt and anger in my chest. He’d been nothing but professional—standing just far enough away to give me space, speaking only when necessary.
But I wanted so much more…or so much less.
I shouldn’t have noticed the way my skin sparked every time he guided me through a doorway, his hand barely grazing the small of my back. I shouldn’t have cataloged each brush of our fingers when he handed me something. My body hadn’t gotten the memo that we were done with Logan Kane.
But I couldn’t deny one thing—I felt safer with him here. The crawling sensation of being watched hadn’t disappeared entirely, but knowing Logan was nearby made it bearable. No one was stupid enough to approach me with six feet two inches of lethal protection at my side.
I’d accomplished more at the hospital in these four days than in all the weeks before combined. Amazing what I could focus on when I wasn’t constantly checking over my shoulder.
Or when I had a presence I was determined to pretend wasn’t there, forcing my mind to focus on other things.
I grabbed my bag from the kitchen counter, hyperaware of Logan waiting just inside the doorway. He’d learned my morning routine quickly—where to stand to be present but not intrusive, when to move to maintain his sight lines without crowding me. Professional to the core.
The elevator was already waiting when we reached it, one of the perks of living on the thirty-fifth floor. I stepped inside, Logan following with that careful, maddening distance. The doors slid closed with their expensive whisper, and we began our descent in the same silence that had defined our interactions.
The elevator was the worst. The perfect time for chitchat, but never between us.
Twenty-nine floors to go. Twenty-eight. Twenty-seven?—
We lurched to a stop, the lights flickering once before steadying. My stomach dropped in that instant of weightlessness before physics caught up. I waited for us to continue our journey, but we didn’t move.
“What—”
“Let’s stay calm.” Logan was already moving to the emergency panel, his movements competent and controlled. “Probably just a mechanical issue.”
I watched him pick up the emergency phone, his voice carrying that particular tone of authority that made people want to comply. “This is the elevator between floors twenty-seven and twenty-six. Two occupants. We’re stopped.”
A tinny voice responded through the speaker, and Logan’s expression remained neutral as he listened. “Understood. We’ll wait for your update.”
He hung up and turned to me. “They’re aware of the situation. They’ll get maintenance working on it.”
“How long will it be?”
“They didn’t say.”
I moved to the far corner of the elevator, as far from Logan as the confined space allowed. The silence stretched between us, thick and uncomfortable. I checked my phone—no signal. Typical.
Eight minutes passed. Ten. At the fifteen-minute mark, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I grabbed the emergency phone myself.
“This is Dr. Valentino. We’ve been stuck in here for a while. What’s the timeline?”
The same operator, the same platitudes. They were working on it. We weren’t in danger. Just hang tight.
I slammed the phone back down with more force than necessary.
“They don’t know how long,” I said, not looking at Logan.
“I figured.”
More silence. The air in the elevator seemed to thicken with each passing minute, charged with everything we weren’t saying. I could feel him watching me, that steady gaze I’d once found comforting now just another reminder of what I’d lost.
“Do you want someone else?”
His question startled me enough that I actually looked at him. “What?”
“As your primary security detail.” He stood perfectly still, hands clasped in front of him in that military at-ease position. “I can arrange for Jace or Ty to take over. Would probably be easier for everyone. Or an entirely different company altogether. I’ll make sure it’s someone good.”
“Did someone force you to be here?” The question escaped before I could stop it. The thought had plagued me since themoment he’d shown up. That, just like Corazón, all I was to him was an assignment.
