Cavanaugh's Surrender by Marie Ferrarella Page A

me.”
    “I’ll walk you to your car,” he told her once they’d reached the ground floor.
    “Not necessary,” Destiny protested, but only marginally since she knew he expected it. If she made too much of a big deal about his walking her to her car, he might suspect that she wasn’t going home the way she’d told him.
    “Humor me,” he said.
    “You’re the primary on this,” she responded, symbolically waving a white flag.
    So he walked her to her car, and under his watchful eye she got in behind the steering wheel and turned her ignition key. The car was instantly ready to peel out. Instead, she slowly eased out of her parking spot.
    Using her rearview mirror, she could still see Logan watching her as she pulled out of the parking lot.
    Destiny didn’t let go of the breath she was holding until she had gone more than a mile. Remaining vigilant, she saw no sign of his vehicle following hers.
    She’d made good her escape.
    Releasing a deep, cleansing breath, she turned her car toward Paula’s apartment.

Chapter 8
    T he yellow police tape was still up. Just as she’d hoped, the police guard was gone.
    Destiny tried not to focus on the tape as she ducked under it. Just seeing it there, before the door of the apartment where Paula had lived, created an eerie, oppressive sensation in the middle of her chest.
    Using her key, Destiny let herself into the apartment, then eased the door closed behind her.
    Only then did she reach for the light switch and turn it on. The moment she did, she jumped, startled. Her gun was in her hand in less than a heartbeat despite the fact that her heart was beating fast enough to break the sound barrier.
    “Easy, it’s just me,” Logan said to her, his hands up as he took a couple of steps toward her. And then, he slowly dropped them to his sides, watching her with awe. “My God, that’s the fastest I’ve ever seen anyone draw their weapon. You should enter some sort of competition. You’d win, hands down—no pun intended,” he tacked on.
    Destiny drew in a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. For a split second, she’d thought she’d stumbled across her sister’s killer.
    “What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded, holstering her weapon. It took all she could do to keep her hands from shaking.
    “Same thing as you,” Logan answered mildly. Actually, that wasn’t true. He was here to see what she’d look for, fairly certain that left on her own, she wasn’t all that keen about sharing what she found.
    “I could have shot you,” she cried. Didn’t he realize that? Why had he been there, in the dark like some kind of creature of the night?
    “But you didn’t,” Logan countered. “I like to look on the bright side,” he added.
    “How did you know I’d come here?” she asked. There was no other way to interpret his standing there in the dark like that. He’d been lying in wait for her, confident that she was going to show up, even though she’d told him she was going home.
    “Just a hunch.” Because she was obviously waiting for more, he elaborated. “You had me going for a while—until you said that I was the primary.”
    “Well, you are,” she said. It came out almost like an accusation.
    “It was more the way you said it,” he amended. Logan shook his head. “It came out much too docile for you.”
    “What are you, an expert on me now?” Destiny stared at him, completely mystified. “You’ve only known me for, what, a day?”
    “Almost two,” he corrected, as if that explained it all. “And sometimes, you just know things.” He smiled at her with an air of satisfaction that immediately got under her skin. “I would have done the same in your shoes.”
    Her eyes narrowed as she tried to understand. Was he drawing parallels between them? Or was he just trying to get her to drop her guard?
    Don’t hold your breath, Cavanaugh.
    “So exactly what are you saying? That I’m just like you?”
    “Oh, God, I hope not.” He said