Juliana had been twelve. Her mother’s death had torn her whole life apart.
And her father—he’d become someone completely different. He’d stopped caring about people. Only focused on things. More wealth. More houses.
“It was never home,” she said, staring at all the windows. “And it always smelled like a funeral.” Because of the flowers. So many had come after her mother’s death. For weeks the house had been overflowing.
Then the flowers had started to wither and die.
She glanced back at Logan and was surprised by the pain she saw flash across his face. “Logan?”
“I’m sorry about your mother. I heard...she was a great lady.”
This part she could remember so well. “She was.” Her mother had been the good that balanced out her father. She’d always made him be better. Without her, he’d fallen apart.
Juliana reached for her door. Her shoes made no sound as she headed up the elaborate walk. Logan was at her side and—
“You’re alive!”
The woman’s high cry had Juliana’s head jerking up. Then she saw Susan Walker, her father’s assistant, rushing toward her.
Susan caught her in a big, tight hug, a hug that smelled of expensive body lotion and red wine. “I thought you’d died! You disappeared after the explosion and no one would tell me anything....” She pulled back, gazing up at Juliana with wide, worried eyes. “I mean, on the news, they said that you’d survived. But I never saw you!” Susan’s words tumbled out too fast. “And I was so worried!”
Susan’s perfectly smooth face gave no hint to her age. She could have been thirty; she could have been forty-five. The woman had been a fixture in her father’s life for the past eleven years.
His closest confidant. The person who organized his life.
And...
Juliana was pretty sure, her father’s lover.
“We need to go inside,” Gunner said in a quiet voice.
Susan jumped, as if she hadn’t even noticed the men surrounding them. Then, after a frantic look around, she said, “Yes, yes, of course...” She ushered them inside the house. She was in a robe. A white silk robe that skirted around her ankles.
When Juliana entered the house, she heard the faint strains of music playing in the background.
They entered the den, and Juliana saw the wineglass on the table.
“I, um...I was just trying to relax a bit.” Susan’s lips pressed together for a moment. “You knew I moved in last spring, right?” She asked as her fingers nervously toyed with the robe’s belt. “I mean, it just... The move gave me better access to your father. There was so much work to do and I—”
“You were sleeping with him.” The words just came out. She wasn’t in the mood for more lies or sugarcoating. Her mother was gone. She’d known her father had lovers, and Susan—well, the woman had always been kind to her.
Susan paled. “I was his assistant! I was—”
“His lover.” Juliana rolled tired shoulders. “It’s all right. You don’t have to pretend with me.”
Logan and Gunner were silent, assessing. She knew they’d run a check on Susan, on all the employees who worked so closely with her father.
All of the employees had turned up clean, no connection to Guerrero. But Logan was still suspicious, and she knew the EOD was still digging deep for dirt.
“Who are these men?” Susan glanced first at Gunner. Then Logan.
“Her protection,” Logan said with a smile. “In light of all that’s happened, I’m sure you understand why we’ll be staying here with Juliana.”
“Here?” Susan parroted as her eyes widened.
Right. Well, with her father dead, the house was technically Juliana’s. Even if he had been sleeping with Susan. Talk about awkward. She didn’t want to make Susan feel uncomfortable, but this was where they needed to be, at least for the next few days. Just tell her. “We’re going to be moving in for a while.” Hopefully, it wouldn’t be for long. But in case it was longer, Juliana desperately needed a base to use so that she could get back to her life. She wanted to paint. Painting was her livelihood and she had work to deliver, but more, painting gave her a release. It could help take her mind off all the death.
Logan had told her that supplies would be brought in to her. When he’d said that, she’d almost kissed him. She’d caught herself, though, because she knew just where a kiss would have lead them.