Page 58 of Until the Sea Runs Dry

The fakeness of it all turned her stomach.

“But you’re living in his house, aren’t you? You must know some things about him?” He leaned over, coming in so close that she could smell garlic on his breath.

Loki growled a warning from the car, paws planted on the seat defiantly. Believing that he was encroaching on her space — which he was — he was letting the man know he should back off. He seemed to have no idea how small he was compared to the stocky man. No fear or hesitation. He only wanted to protect her.

Jane’s heart swelled with affection for the little guy.

Either the cop didn’t pick up on his warning, or he simply ignored it. He moved even closer. She backed away until her butt hit the side of the Cullinan.

“He took me in and gave me a place to stay in his pool house. That’s all I know,” Jane offered unwillingly, hoping that the small bit of information would satisfy his curiosity.

He pointed a finger at Loki.

“I don’t believe that for a second! Isn’t that his dog? You can’t read a paper without seeing the two of them around. You must be closer than you’re admitting if he’s letting you look after his dog.”

His eyes took on a hard glint again as he studied Jane.

“I’m telling you, that’s the truth. I don’t have any more information to give you.”

The fact she was having to explain herself like this struck her as harassment. Her blood started to pound, that sick feeling in her stomach growing by the second, her fight-or-flight instincts kicking in.

He’s just another fan, she tried to tell herself.

Just another person who wanted to share some of Logan’s limelight. But her nerves were starting to scream, and the hairs on the back of her neck were raised.

He was so close to her that she could see a vein pop in the middle of his forehead. She noticed small details of his face: a missed spot where he had shaved that morning, and the scars that criss-crossed his face after a bout of what looked to be chickenpox.

Loki strained against his leash, stretching it taunt. Jane’s eyes slid behind him to the passing traffic. Drivers peered at them with morbid curiosity, but no one stopped. No one wound down the window to see if she was being harassed by this cop.

No one thought she was in any danger.

Her pulse was racing now, and there was a strange pounding against her temple. The cop was saying something to her, but the pounding in her head was so loud that his words were disjointed. He might as well have been underwater for all the sense she could make of it.

Icy fear coursed through her body. Jane flinched, pressing herself against the car. The cop reached out to touch her.

Loki’s yapping turned into high-pitched barks as he tugged and twisted against his restraints. Her heart was slamming inside her chest now. She almost didn’t see the black limousine until it screeched up beside them.

The passenger door flew open as a powerful figure leaped out of the car. “Take your hands off her!”

The last thing Logan had needed was the distress call that had come through Summers. Thanks to Jackson’s meddling, he’d fumbled his new lines and had barely gotten through an entire scene. Subsequently Venger, their director, had spent the day screaming about his incompetence.

When he’d rushed off to help Jane, the last thing he’d heard was Venger kicking over a chair as he threatened to have him replaced. Still, his work issues had taken a backseat when he’d seen Jane, pressed up against his car, with that cop looming aggressively over her.

All the color had gone from her face. She looked as frightened as a child.

And something primal in him had been activated. He didn’t stop to think about his actions. He only knew that he had to get her away from him.

He had to stop that look of utter fear that had come over her face.

He’d shouted at the man, his voice carrying so much authority that it seemed he was the one in charge and not the policeman, whose hands dropped from Jane’s shoulders like stone. An ugly red flush crept along the sides of his neck. He jumped back.

“Mr. Steel! I… I was just asking your friend about her relationship to you.”

Logan’s eyes were as hard as the steel in his name.

He looked angry, furious even, his fists clenched down by his sides. There was the faintest residue of make-up on his face, as if he hadn’t had time to clean it all off before he’d arrived here, though he was dressed in his own clothes.

The drivers who had been passing by, disinterested in her predicament, slowed their cars. Some pointed their phones at them, recognizing Logan.

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